Whirlwind of a Weekend

It's about 3:45 pm, and I sit here munching on my lunch, still in my pajamas. Today's concoction was a chicken risotto dish, which was surprisingly tasty and easy to make. I've reached an inner sense of peace in regards to cooking here. Thank goodness Mom and Dad sent measuring spoons and cups, I think I'd go crazy converting measurements all the time to grams and mL! The trade-off, however, is that in order to achieve a sense of satisfaction from my cooking, I must dilute the complexity of the recipe. One cannot waltz into Hungary and expect to whip up Bon Appetite's latest cover page. It's just not happening. Rather, I frequent yumyum.com, cooks.com, and allrecipes.com for simple meals with ingredients that I know can find.

Today's recipe only called for chicken, salt n' pepper, garlic, onion, chicken broth, rice, butter, and leftover cheese that I think went bad, but tasted fine in the casserole. Simple, basic foods. Sometimes I like to push the envelope (think American pancakes and chocolate chip cookies from scratch) but for the most part, every meal I successfully don't mess up is a source of pride and joy. It's sounds easy enough-- "just carry a pocket dictionary with you to the store" I was told-- but it's a whole different ball field cooking in a foreign country. It's not like home where I simply hop in the car, go to Giant, get everything I need, and come home. Not only that, but preservatives ensure that my food won't spoil until 2029, so my trips are much less frequent. All said and done, it's been a great experience and I've accrued a very nice collection of simple, tasty recipes.

Anyways, this weekend was a lot of fun. Friday night I headed out with a big group to a hookah bar-- there were 13 of us all said and done, and we were lucky enough to be seated in a private room where we enjoyed drinks, tea, and of course, hookah. I'm quite sure the waiter ripped us off, but it was a very nice experience regardless. One thing we've all realized is that Hungarians have no qualms whatsoever about ripping us off; perhaps it's because we're students, perhaps it's because we're Americans. Either way, it gets pretty frustrating after a while when you know it's happening, but you don't speak enough Hungarian to do anything about it. So we paid, and headed on our way. My friend Anna and I opted to stay and listen to a concert at the local Irish bar, Beckett's, and partook in drunken people-watching. Very entertaining, particularly because many were English speakers, so we understood what they were saying too.

Saturday I went to one of my favorite places in Budapest, Central Market, and bought my month's worth of Pick Szalami (it's amaaaazing) and bananas for the week. I did a little bit more souvenir shopping, and then took a stroll down the tourist trap of Vaci Utca. It was a beautiful day, and I was rather humored at myself because I simply wanted to walk down the street and listen to all of the English. The International vibes of this particular street remind me a lot of being in the States, so I walked along slowly, finding contentment in the chitter-chatter of American voices.

Later that evening I met up with a few other McDaniel girls, not knowing what sort of trouble I was getting myself into. We ended up at a nearby bar called "Szimpla" which was much more of a funky lounge than a typical bar scene. The drinks were reasonable, and the atmosphere was great for relaxing with friends. Time kind of meandered on by because before we knew it it was Midnight and we were off to try our luck at Disco Bank (on the right side of Nyugati Train Station)...

We needed luck because although the club was a scene to be reckoned with, the staff discriminates against non-Hungarians. If you don't speak Hungarian at the entrance, there is a very good chance you'll have to pay a exorbitant cover (as the Hungarian behind you walks in for free) or just get completely rejected. So, we swooped in like hawks on a group of single guys (only one of which spoke English) and convinced them (it didn't take much convincing) to let us be their dates. My escort informed me in broken English that I was to be a girl from Russia, and when asked where I was from (in Hungarian) to reply that I was from Russia. We practiced this exercise as we worked our way up the line, and the scheme worked. All of us got in to this incredible club without paying a penny! I can't help but laugh at the whole ordeal, but it made for a great evening as we danced the night away.

Prague and Vienna

This past weekend was nothing short of a wonderful adventure. It was the second study trip organized by the school- this time with the destinations of Praha and Wien. Our overnight train was not nearly as comfortable as the one Sarah and I took to Krakow, but we felt like seasoned Veterans nonetheless. Arriving in Prague at 6am is as rough as it sounds, but we did manage to refuel with an early breakfast and restyle our train-hair before heading out for the day.

Prague was one of the very few cities that was not bombed into obliteration during WWII, making it one of the best preserved Medieval cities in Central Europe. A few words that we came up with to describe it include: Quintessential, Preserved, Charming, Cobblestone, and Photogenic. Our first activity was quite fun, for we climbed to the top of the clock tower in the central square where we enjoyed a clear view of the city. Once back in the square, we awaited the 11:00am performance of the Astronomical clock; a 15th century masterpiece, the clock comprises of an astronomical dial of the moon and sun, a Zodiac ring, a calender dial, and a rotating performance of the Apostles on the hour. Pretty cool, if you ask me. Before breaking for lunch, we took a brief tour of the Jewish District, which included walking through the Old Jewish Cemetery. It was used between 1450 and 1787, and has more than 100,000 Jews buried on the small plot -sometimes as many as 12 deep. Walking alongside these ancient tombstones in the crisp October air, watching the golden leaves drift and settle from the towering trees was a very surreal experience. We then broke for lunch, and finished the day with a visit to the Mucha Museum.



The next morning started as cold as ever as we made our way to the Castle-side of Prague, crossing over the picturesque Charles Bridge. The Medieval culture simply thrives in the district, and I had a great time admiring the ancient and gargantuan church that seems to pierce the sky in the middle of the great fortress. We walked down Golden Lane, which seems like a good idea in theory, but has inevitably been corrupted by tourism. The armour exhibit was pretty neat though, and I had a funny little moment when I sniff-sampled some clove leaf oil, for I accidentally got a bit on my scarf, but enjoyed the aroma for the rest of the afternoon! I was quite chilled by this point in the day, and warmed up over a glass of mulled wine and hot soup.


Our last excursion was to the Franz Kafka museum, which I loved. I've read one or two of his works, and really appreciated the exhibit in the sense that it was an invaluable experience for my English major. After some shopping, and fawning over the fantastic Czech crystal and glassware, a few of us settled down for a delightful dinner of pizza and Czech beer. The next morning we were on our way to Vienna! The SuperCity train we took rivaled any airplane, but without the obnoxious ear-popping and air turbulence, and a much better view of the fall foliage. They say it is a dying form of transportation, but I feel now that if I ever had the opportunity to travel a scenic route via train I would most certainly consider it.

In regards to Vienna, I loved it. On our first evening we had a most unique experience of taking an elevator up to a platform that had been constructed in the dome of an old Baroque church. Like the picture below, the interior is typical of the era; tastefully decorated with heavenly paintings across the dome ceiling. Now imagine yourself within arms reach of those paintings - that's where we were! We could continue our ascent to the very, very highest overlook from which the whole city could be seen, but the sway of the scaffolding was a bit unnerving, to say the least. For dinner later that evening, I was quite pleased with myself to have authentic Schnitzel with sauerkraut and a glass of the classic Austrian beer, Zipfer.

(Near)

(Far)

The next morning we headed out to the Hapsburg summer palace of Schönbrunn. I thought the building itself was impressive, but the expansive of gardens was incredible. The fountains, maze work, ornate french designs, all left me with an unwavering impression of splendor and grandeur. I really enjoyed the audio-guided tour throughout the palace too and felt like I walked away with a lot more knowledge than when I started. We visited two more churches after the palace, and in the second we were greeted with the throaty melodies of the organ. I love how the sound resonates off of every wall as if it was God's embrace itself.

We were left to our own devices for the evening, and I was very glad I chose to stalk the teachers. Something about adults always seeming to know what they want to do makes following them all the more appealing. Our first stop was an International speciality/delicacy store, which was just fascinating in the variety of things that were available. From American marshmallows, to British mincemeat tarts, to Italian seashell pasta, there was a cornucopia of things to choose from. Next on the agenda was a much needed coffee break, and it was here that I sampled the traditional Viennese Sacher torte. Mmm Mmm Good. It had begun to drizzle, and was still as cold as ever, so we slowly made our way back to the hotel where I called it a night.

The next morning we were all armed with audio-guides and set loose upon the Museum of Fine Arts. I loved being able to wander about and listen to all of the valuable information that the guide provided; never before would I have considered spending the money on such a commodity, but now I feel like it is undoubtedly worth the fee. My favorite piece was Ruben's Four Continents (pictured above) but there were many other Italian works that I enjoyed as well. I then visited the few exhibits available in the Museum of Modern Art; uniquely disturbing, provocative, and abstract are a few words that come to mind. I didn't much like it, but I suppose not all art is for everyone. By now it was grey and raining, and I headed back to the hotel to join the other students for our transfer to the train station.

Upon our arrival to Keleti Station, we were strictly instructed to only take below-ground transportation in Budapest as there has been some rioting since last night. There is still a bit of unrest in the population regarding the political situation, however it is also the anniversary of the 1956 revolution, which began on October 23. I'm sure things will settle down by tomorrow, but we were wary nonetheless.

The trip was nicely planned, and I'm so glad I got to see the two beautiful and charming cities. They were so very different from each other! I'm a bit sad as I did not have the opportunity to attend a performance of the Spanish Riding School, an Opera, nor visit the Sigmund Freud Museum in Vienna; I feel like there is still much more for me to see and do, and so I hope to someday return to the city.

Only 9 days till Andy arrives! I feel like my excitement, were it to be rocket fuel or something of that nature, could propel me to the moon and back. It will be the highlight of my semester, no doubt! I miss him terribly, though I know that the time apart has allowed me to grow and develop in ways that I won't appreciate until I'm older. Aunt Shelley, if you're reading this, I shan't want you to feel at all slighted, for your arrival will be the highlight of my post-semester!

Afternoon with an Aussie

The study and preparation for my Midterm exams this week has been a pleasant reminder than I am indeed still attending college classes while living here in Budapest. I haven't mentioned much about them because they more or less fall under the daily hum-drum of life, but when test week rolls around, the studying and preparation is rather stressful. I've already knocked one down, but I've still got two more to go. One can imagine then that my afternoon showing an Australian fellow I'd met in Poland around Budapest was a welcomed respite to the drudgery of studying.

I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, but before meeting Frank, the only Australian culture I'd ever known was Crocodile Dundee and Outback Steakhouse. It was eye-opening in the sense that even though Americans and Aussies share a similar culture, there are quite a few subtle differences as well (and of which I knew nothing about!). We both agreed, though, that the friendliness of our homeland cultures is something of a rarity in Europe.

Frank slept in the bunk underneath me while I was staying at the hostel in Poland, and when he mentioned that he would be coming to Budapest in about a week, I (naturally) took the opportunity to offer my services as a tour guide. Even though I'm not an authentic Hungarian, I've certainly been here long enough to talk any one's ear off about Hungarian history and walk around the good sights without getting lost. Plus, I was thrilled to gab away the day in English. After touring the Castle district, we had some coffee in a local cafe and discussed the stereotypes of American culture. I really appreciated his honesty, as I think that understanding how other cultures view my own is an excellent way of broadening my "worldliness" so to speak. Language came up as well, and I was particularly intrigued to learn that Australians, too, have regionalized accents.

This brings me to my latest theory on the English language! In the states, one could distinguish the typical accent of someone from New York versus someone from South Carolina. The same goes for a bloke from Manchester, versus a bloke from London; or a fellow from Northern Australia versus Southern Australia. In Hungary, there is no regionalized accent; when asked of its existence, Hungarians will sort of raise their eyebrow as if contemplating the thought, and then inform you that everyone simply speaks Hungarian in Hungary. There is no characteristic distinction of dialect between the various regions. Bearing that in mind, I just recently learned that the English language requires the usage of only 18 muscles in the mouth; Hungarian requires 43. My theory, then, is that because the English language is physically easier to speak, it is more prone to the wayward deviations that we so often hear today. I'm no linguist by any means, but I find the phenomenon fascinating.

After coffee I extended the invitation of returning to the flat for dinner- I was making Spicy Hungarian Mushroom Soup- and so we enjoyed a great meal and more conversation. I learned a lot yesterday, and I'm so glad that my understanding of the country now extends beyond kangaroos, Sydney, and the Great Barrier Reef. I believe Frank was equally intrigued by my friendliness and self-confidence; attributes that he doesn't encounter much in the European women that he's met on his travels. Overall, it was a great learning experience, and a nice break from the doldrums of student life. As I am so often told, I'm learning a lot more from my semester abroad than a college class on the Main Campus could ever teach me.

P.S. Congrats Al Gore!

Life without Internet

Prior to our arrival in Budapest, we were all asked whether we would like Internet in our flats. I'm quite sure everybody did, and we were told that more details would be available upon move-in. Once we had arrived, we met with the international student who was in charge of our Internet needs. While discussing the various options we had with, we were informed that because our flat was in a different district, it could be up to three weeks before we could have Internet installed. We thought this was alright, and agreed to wait for a call.

The catch about installing Internet here is that a minimum 5-month subscription is required; we're only here for 15 weeks, which means we're automatically paying for a month of service that we won't use. On top of that, we also have to pay for the land-line through which the modem can be installed, as well as the wireless router if we want WiFi. Stuff like this sure makes growing up a lot less glamorous! What's more, bills here are paid through the post office; students will receive their bill at their flat, and must physically go to the local Posta (where very few speak English) to pay. Compared to this, paying bills in the States is a cakewalk.

For the first five weeks or so, Sarah and I were lucky enough to be able to "borrow" Internet from an unsecured wireless network (measures were taken of course to secure my personal connection) and we continued to wait for the call about our own Internet installation. Towards the end of week 5, the call finally came, but there would still be a week or two delay because of scheduling an appointment for the installation itself. Ironically, that same week our luck finally ran out with the "borrowed" internet we had been using. As you can imagine, having Internet in the flat just didn't seem worth the hassle anymore. It would be a very expensive investment considering we're nearly halfway through the semester now, so we said "Thanks, but no thanks."

I really miss being able to talk to Mom and Dad on Skype, and also keeping in touch with friends from home. Most people aren't alive and functioning at 6am USA time when I'm on my lunch break at school. I joke that it's probably a good thing for me to be living the "simple life" as I've never not had Internet until now. The high-speed Internet access I enjoy at school and at home is something I really took for granted, but I've been surviving alright without it too; there's just fewer blog posts, as you may have noticed.

My Polish October

Despite the cold and rainy gloom of the weekend, I still found Krakow to be absolutely charming. It's very pedestrian-friendly, has a great central square, beautiful architecture, a gargantuan castle, delicious pirogis, and lots of dragon-lore.

On our first day there, Sarah and I took a walk around the Planty that surrounds the Old Town. The medieval walls that surrounded the city were largely demolished after 1807, so the city filled up the 50 or so empty acres with a series of connected gardens and parkland, now known as the Planty. After our stroll, we returned to the hostel to rest a bit as neither of us had gotten much sleep on the night train. I'm sure part of it was simply nerves, but it's hard to sleep when a small army of Border Control officials knock on the door at one in the morning! I can't really complain too much though because we had to buy 1st class due to the last-minute nature of the purchase and it was quite nice and comfortable.

The next day was a sobering experience, to say the least. We visited both the Auschwitz and Birkenau concentration camps. The barbed wire fencing and gate looming above with the words "Work Makes You Free" were all too real for me as I walked into the camp. It's not easy for me to articulate how I felt as I walked through the very buildings that victims of the Holocaust had lived in, been tortured in, and died in, but I know for sure that no amount of education could ever evoke such feelings. By the end of the day, any threads of happiness in my heart had been numbed by the cold and calculated Nazi cruelty that I had experienced.

One of the most horrifying stories was how the Nazi's kept the hair of the victims in the camps and used it to make valuable felt socks and blankets for German soldiers. Soviets found over 230 bags of it- over 15,000 lbs of hair. As we were walking through the museum of stolen possessions, we entered a room that had over 2,000 lbs of that same hair on display. It was utterly shocking. In the following rooms were hundreds of suitcases, pots and pans, hairbrushes, and shoes; it is believed that Nazi's collected somewhere between 15 and 16 million pairs of shoes from their victims. Walking through the square were thousands of people were executed, and then through the crematorium (the smallest one, holding only 700 people) gave me an awful sense of reality.

Though very little remains of Birkenau, the vastness of the camp and hardship of life is incredibly profound. Looking down the barbed wire perimeter, one cannot see the end; I felt like the sheer size of it was incomprehensible until I was actually standing there, imagining the endless rows of barns filled with thousands of victims. Life was so difficult that the average leg nth of stay at the camp was only three months; for me, that was mind-boggling.

The next day was a bit happier, so to speak, as we were visiting the salt mine of Wieliczka. Naturally I was compelled to lick the walls once or twice, but the mine itself was quite interesting. I was most intrigued by the fact that everything about it is man-made; it is not a "natural wonder" per se. No longer used at full capacity, the salt production of the mine comes from the distillation of its salt water and is distributed locally. To the best of my knowledge, it's something like 700 years old, and 327 meters deep (about 1/4 mile). The miners would keep horses in the caves for power, and I was very surprised to learn that the last one left only 6 years ago! Overall though, I thought it was pretty neat operation; the Poles refer to it as their "White Gold."

After a long day, we got back on the night train and returned to Budapest, knowing quite well that when we woke up we would be walking from the station right into class. I'm exhausted at this point, but it was a good trip and well worth it. Next week are the mid-term exams so I'll be studying this coming weekend. Quite alright though, because in two weeks I'll be touring Prague and Vienna!

Krakow, Poland

The last two days have been quite a few "firsts" for me: first time on a Night Train; first time having my passport checked and stamped at a border crossing; first time in Poland; and first time staying in a hostel. To put it modestly, until I actually checked into the hostel, set my backpack down in the room, and then sat down at this very computer, I was freaking out. I am a creature of habit, confident in everything I do that I've done before. Buying tickets to another country, and then actually getting on the train and going, is as crazy to me as Strom Thurmond coming back from the dead and running in the next Presidential election.

The hostel where we're saying is very nice, and we're just about to head out to explore the city. It was quite an adventure getting here, but it's certainly not over just yet.

House of Terror Museum

Sunday morning was a most sobering and eye-opening experience as I walked through the House of Terror Museum. My head is still reeling from all of the emotions that I felt as the horrors of the Nazi and Soviet occupation were exposed. The first room is the most shocking; TV's show graphic footage of Nazi bulldozers pushing hundreds of bodies into pits, goose-stepping troops, and the devastation of Budapest after World War II. Other TV's show Hungarians welcoming the Soviets (who had "liberated" them from Nazi Germany) with great tanks and missiles parading down the street, undoubtedly thrilled at the notion that with the Soviets will come a better life, and a better Hungary.

Boy were they wrong. Interrogation rooms, isolation chambers, a torture cell, and the most horrifying reconstructed Death Row, located in the dark, damp and moldy basement were all contributors to why this particular house was known as the "House of Horrors." Hundreds of innocent Hungarians were imprisoned, tortured, and executed here. It is awful beyond my comprehension. The very nature of the building is chilling: It had originally been used as a headquarters by Nazis, but once the Soviets came to power, they moved their headqaurters into the very same building--Andrassy Ut. 60.

It really became a reality though once Dr. Mandy started telling stories of people she knew who had lived through these terrifying times. Her neighbor was a wealthy woman in the 1940's, but one night a car showed up and the Soviets told her and her husband that their (relatively nice) house was being confiscated and they had one night to pack two bags. They were "internally deported" so to speak, and sent to the countryside; forced to live and work amongst the peasants so that they may be re-educated in the ways of the working man. Awful, just awful.

The experience touched me in a way that I hate to remember, but never want to forget.