The Last Day in the Land of Paprika & Sunflowers: the Magyar Memoir Part 15

When I awoke from another night of comma-like sleep as a result of our busy, non-stop tourism of the past few days; I remember thinking, "this is my last day, yet there was so much more I want to experience, so I didn't have even a moment to lament". On that note, we were up and running until the heavy rain stopped us in our tracks. This weakened our resolve to get out and explore with the initial urgency we had just shared previous to this discovery. We eased into the morning by stepping into the quick-order counter next to the hostel. The cafe offered cheap internet so we ordered up a round of coffee, some toasted bagels and re-connected with the world, for the first time in a couple weeks. When I checked my Myspace account I noticed that a handful of my Hungarian high school students had added me. While this seemed a bit inappropriate, being in my 30s and having a bunch of 15-years-olds on my page, how could I say no?

After we finished our morning snack and exhausted our internet time, the rain had not ceased, but the day was slipping away, so we covered up, and set out on an adventure. I don't think we necessarily had a destination, we just found a direction we hadn't been and off we slushed. One of the places we stumbled upon was this second rate mall, the stores included a used bookstore, a travel agency, a briefcase store, and a few other nameless boutiques that were closed anyway, that was about it. We browsed in the book shop for a few minutes then realized there was nothing exciting about this place and headed back into the main corridor that lead to the exit when we looked up and realized how extraordinary it truly really was.


There are so many wonderful treasures in the most unexpected places in Europe. We ventured on, doing a little more shopping, I picked up the token tourist memorabilia for my family; the baseball caps, lighters, magnates, etc, all things that you can expect as a stocking stuffer from me. The rain was still unrelenting, but we pushed on, a finding historic looking building which we attempted to enter, but it was locked up tight. This was getting silly, we were soaked, that was when I saw a beacon of luminescent loveliness, otherwise known as "the perfect cafe". Ashlee was less thrilled than I at the prospect of claiming that window table for three overlooking the main thoroughfare, I guess she wasn't in a cafe mood. Actually Ashlee was a bit angsty that whole day, I think the rain was damping her mood (excuse the pun, my father must have suddenly possessed my body temporarily). It was true there was no patio seating, but it was raining, so the point was moot. As I pulled the glass door open, an overwhelming smell of pastries, presumably made on the premises, ensconced me. The furniture was pristine eggshell white...everywhere, from the comfortable Ikea armchairs to the velvet loveseats, each partnered with an classic marble top round cafe table or coffee table. Attractive, fashionable people were sprawled about comfortably, involved spirited conversation, the occasional cosy embrace, and few with stoic visages starring out the window clearly with their thoughts elsewhere. Was this my version of Heaven?! Was I dead and gone, if so, this seemed a suitable place to spend all eternity! When I think I have found a candidate for the perfect cafe designation, it best to order something truly indulgent, as this is the most accurate measure of it's perfection. "Are you ready to order?" "One cream brullet, a single espresso, and a cup if hot water on the side, please". (I can't trust Europeans to make a proper Americano, who cares that they bloody invented it!) Even in the grandest cafe on the planet, I couldn't risk there being ignorant barrista having power to sully the perfect cafe's reputation in my eyes.

I had procured a fashion magazine at some point during the day, and I gleefully sipped my Man.D-made Americano and cracked into my cream brullet and snapped of a square of dark chocolate which accompanies my beverage with the sheer contentment as the rain continued to coat streets outside and tickle the plate glass window at my side. I lazed in my perfectly proportioned armchair with my friends, my magazine and my treats, thinking that life doesn't get any better than this.

I was in no hurry to to go, after spending an hour in the greatest cafe on the planet, but Ashlee and Mylo were eager to do and see more. We continued in search of something exciting, a museum maybe or other weather friendly activities. We looked at some more buildings, bought a few more things, but ultimately we gave-up and decided to just find a pub and throw back a few pints. We found a nice spot and actually sat in an interesting window cubbie, it was open to the outside, but was covered and enclosed by an awning and plastic tarp. So it was sort of enclosed only offered a severely obstructed view of the walking street out front. Our waitress was friendly, as there were few customers she joined in our conversation intermittently, focusing most of her attention on Mylo. After a few rounds, we ordered the special, soup and a sandwich of some kind, and called it dinner. Ashlee and I were taking a late flight to Brussels in a few hours, while Mylo would spend another day in Budapest before flying back to the United States. We tried to enjoy the remainder of our time together, laughing, and reminiscing, talking about the future, bitching about relationships, knowing that we would most likely never all be together again. Knowing that it seemed fairly accurate to say that our paths would not cross again without considerable effort, we didn't make any promises to reunite. It wasn't sad, it was life, and we each had one to get back to, which was a nice feeling. Ashlee had her sweet job and new flat in France, Janie had already taken the train back to Italy, Lana and Fedelio were still sleeping under the stars at the rock festival before heading back to Spain, Mylo had job lined up in South Carolina and a girl he had meet just before he left that he seemed increasing more motivated to get back to, and I was in love, a word that hasn't been in my vocabulary in a very long time. It was destined to fall apart on the basis of my inability to stay in one place for a convenient length of time, but for that moment, I still had faith in the prospects of having it all. That might be what I have missed most in the nearly two years that have passed since that day. Making the most of everyday and sucking every nanosecond of excitement out of each daily discovery, and trusting that he would be there when I was done gallivanting around Europe.

Later that night we returned to the hostel for the last time, I felt a wee bit tipsy but completely satisfied with the time in the land of the natural hot spring water fountains, killer Carpathian valley allergies, the fabulous fudlare, the menicing mosquitos and spiders, the two Arizonias, the Octagon, the dictators, the random squators, the Turkish bathhouses, the silly students, the cabbies and their smoking breaks, the cold cherry soup, the disappearing hostel, the Beaver, the goulash, the slow sticky train rides, the chained cow, the old fashion school bell, the bicycle traffic, the gypsy market, and the endless expanse of paprika and sunflowers stretching as far as the eye can see. I can't imagine the summer of 2007 without all of those elements.

-Fin-

The City by Night: The Magyar Memoir part 14

Following our exhilarating, yet exhausting, day at the baths, somehow we managed to get back to our "hostel neighborhood". We got cleaned up and headed back out for dinner, to the same wonderful spot where we had had the gelato the day prior. This time I had the Magyarian delicacy, Goulash. It was full of sausage and sweet paprika, even on a warm summer night, it is unbeatable! It was sort of muggy and warm out, we were seated on the patio facing the promenade and a view of the Dona. After swallowing a bottle of Egerian red wine,(Eger is a well known wine-growing area east of Budapest)too stuffed for dessert, an after dinner walk was in order to clear our alcohol hazed heads and calm our bulging bellies. So we headed back across the bridge where the afternoon market was held, toward the waterfront bellow the museums on the opposite side of the river.

As we approached the winding hill we had descended from the day before, we heard a commotion of happy drunken voices, but we didn't see anyone, just some work men silently setting up some tables and chairs in a beer garden that didn't appear to be open yet. We continued towards the hill, walking along the road, the noise seemed to be coming from the vaulted tunnel cut into the hill to allow cars to pass under. We looked up as the voices became more pronounced, sure enough, there were about 15 teenagers on top of cement edge of the tunnel entrance; laughing and carrying on from their precarious perch. It took only second for us to engage in a unspoken agreement to try to get up there. We analyzed their location and set up the stone path part way up the hill, then diverted off road through the trees and dirty in the directions of the voices. I might add this was a moonless night, and we had only our mobile phones to act as a makeshift flashlights. I trailed behind as I had flip-flops of some other non-hiking friendly shoes. I manged to navigate my way over tree roots, around, between and over boulders, and through small sharp thickets to a small clearing where Ashlee and Mylo were lingering, waiting on me. As I came into the clearing I let my guard down, safe at last, another successful night hike in improper footwear in a less than sober state of mind...uff!! At that moment I tripped over a stone retaining wall of some kind that's purpose is still unbeknownst to me. I fell face first into the concrete top of the tunnel for an audience of 15-20 Czech teens to see- these teens as a matter of fact!



I was bleeding in several places, but thank god I was wearing jeans, since my legs took the brunt of the skidding impact. After Ashlee and Mylo had composed their chortling over my collision with concrete, we gawked at the view (the way Clark W. Griswold does when they go to the Grand Canyon in the first National Lampoons Vacation) It was not as spectacular a view as my foreshadowing may have implied. We got back on the stone path and went headed towards the trolley that had taken us up the hill, where we found a footbridge that offered us a more civilized platform from which to take-in the city lights, there I took some of my favorite pictures of my trip. The first one is of Ashlee and I in the foreground, my finger bandaged with some random tissues someone had, and a few leaves still adhered to my hair; the lovely lit up city in the background. For the second shot, I managed to pull myself together and hide my wounds, that is the picture I choose to remember.

The Magyar Memoir- Part 13 Bath or Bust!

As I alluded to in the prior entry; Mylo had himself an interesting night previous to this lovely morning. After the rest of us had tucked ourselves in to the hostel. Mylo found another bar nearby, he started talking to one girl, who called a another girlfriend over, many rounds of pricey specialty cocktails were ordered and much conversation and laughs were had. The festive mood continued as thoughts of three-somes danced in young Mylo's head, until the girls invited another pit boss-esk man to join them, it was around this time that Mylo recalled an article he had read in one of his travel books, or perhaps in the English newspaper about how there was a "dine and ditch" sort of a scheme carried out by the Russians. He eyed the divine Russian vixens as they bated their heavily mascaraed lashes at him, then sized up the new Rusky at the table, and promptly excused himself somehow and and took off before he was stuck with a massive bar tab. Whether or not he paid for his own drink, I forgot to ask, as I was so entranced by the other details, which at this point I may have confused, but that's the story as I remember it.

The second day in Budapest was a big day- lots of tourism, but most of it at a snails pace, as Ashlee and I discovered on this trip that we shared a common passion. We were both on a personal quest to locate and hold court in "the quintessential European cafe". Thus, when ever we saw those familiar rattan folding chairs and round wrought iron tables in the distance, we had to divert the course of our tour to have a look, to confirm whether or not it was worthy of our patronage once we became overrun with hunger, thirst, or need of a restroom. With each cafe that peaked our interest we paused for a quick evaluation. Was there a patio? Was the interior design minimalist- yet with a distinctly cosmopolitan flair while maintaining the unique identity of the local culture? Were the biscottis made on the premises? Did they serve all their coffee drinks with a cocktail napkin on a saucer, cubed sugar and a dark chocolate square or wafer of some kind? Were the tables spaced out enough so that you wouldn't hit your knee on the table every time you crossed your legs, yet close enough together to listen in on other people's conversations? Were there any eye sores, such as ass backwards Americans wearing crocs, a fanny pack and a visor while asking the waitress embarrassingly idiotic questions loudly? I'll bet you haven't ever considered these factors when selecting a cafe to have a sit,a sip and a cig...well Ashlee and I spent the better part of the day developing our criterion and conducting a careful analysis. We did eventually select a suitable cafe that met our refined prerequisites, but it was not open yet so we had to get our morning espresso at some all-American truck-stop of a cafe...it was pure kitsch...disgusting I tell you! Although, the service was impeccable, I think, or maybe our waiter was just super hot, I forget. I think the coffee was good though the biscottis were probably pre-packaged.

Then I was almost hit but a bus...I bet those of you that were irritated about my snobbish description of the sub-par cafe are now intrigued by what's to come. Well, clearly I survived, but there is a video that captures the moment perfectly.( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YXagFzdIOtM ) Yeah, that was me. On the video you can't really tell that I took two steps back to avoid the bus, my fear sounds rather fake too, but that was not staged I assure you.

All this action and it was barely noon! We continued past embassy row, where I flipped off the Korean Embassy for no real reason other that to remind it that I would no longer tolerate Kimchi in my spaghetti and people driving around with a magaphone blasting loud sales pitches for used scrap metal for sale at 7am on a Sunday. (I lived in Korea for a year). When we reached Hero's Square...which is actually a circle, we met up with Janie, but she and her mates were on their way somewhere else.

We continued on to this castle thingie, it was pretty touristy, but there was some great architecture to check out, and there was a mot complete with row boats that you could rent. Naturally, we could not resist! Mylo rowed first, but I was giddy with excitement waiting for my turn to row. It turns out that, considering the many hours as I have spent on the rowing machine at the gym, I am not proficient oarsmen. I rowed us in circles mostly, and almost lost an oar, but I'm sure the couples in the other boats had a good chuckle.


Finally, it was time for the grandest of our day's adventures...the TURKISH BATH, we had walked a long way to find it, over the river and through the wooded park...and finally we were sufficiently sweaty and ready. We were unimpressed with the first indoor pool, it was kind of slimy, so we continued to the outdoor pool, the first shallow pool was like a beef stew; a generous helping delicious meat both male and female, but there were way too many leeks, greasy geezers, which made our entry point into the pool tricky. Objective: bypass retiree central and get to the sexy side. Once we were in, we discovered this pool was really salty and about the temperature of urine, so we decided to try the next pool, it was full of children with inadequate supervision and therefore discipline, so this one was no good either,so we ventured on. Finally we had our Goldie Locks moment, and settled into a lazy river type pool, not too hot nor too cold. Ashlee, the sun goddess, decided to prematurely age her skin for a while on a deck chair, while Mylo and I explored the other offerings at the bathhouse. We found a crazy center-of-the-earth temperature sauna. What was interesting, beside the fact there there were toddlers in there kicking it with their parents, was there was a pile of snow outside the door for people to take in with them. After sampling the women only saunas, I went back outside to find Ashlee sound asleep on her towel with a killer sunburn smoldering on her back, I tried to wake her but she was out, so I let her be, and went to the snack bar...but never got there was I discovered a meditation room, where I communed with my inner chi, then feel asleep on my towel on a balcony overlooking the pool. What a great afternoon it twas.

MAGYAR MEMOIR Part 12 - Budapest Encore!

I just tuned-up the Cranberries to remind me of that fateful weekend many moons ago. (We listened to 3 bands that summer: a Hungarian Beatles's cover band record we found at the "Sik Sandor", Groove Armada and the Cranberries, we were just too lazy to change the music). Our time in Hungary was swiftly coming to a close. It was the last week of class, the finale being lots of pictures, hugs, and autographs in memory books. Followed by a thorough cleaning of 'the perfect flat', and by cleaning, I mean the disguising of any damage we inflicted. Our guilt dissolved while moving furniture around when we discovered tons of holes in the walls and other previous damage. After it was confirmed that we had done a passable job cleaning and were all packed, we arranged a taxi to take us to the train station, since the bosses seemed irritated at us. I think Norma left early in the morning, we left late morning. I believe we said goodbye to Lana and Fidelio the night before; who were headed for The Zigit Music festival for a few days. Janie had arranged to stay with an ex-boyfriend and his family for a couple days, and would meet up with us in Budapest. That left Mylo, Ashlee and I (the original trio). We caught that old familiar train from Cegled station for the last time to Budapest, this time we were not delayed. The weather began to change as we arrived in Budapest, it was cooler, a bit breezy and cloudy, but pleasant. We found our way through the nice area of Budapest, making our way to our hostel. It was really blue, and very big as I recall, sort of as if it were a giant's house. From the tall door frames to the big steps and high ceilings. We had a triple room for the three of us. We must have been on the third or fourth floor, the view out our window looked directly into an office building across the way, I sat fixated on the business going on in this office for longer than was probably comfortable for the workers inside. It wasn't just them that had captured my imagination; it was just the majesty of the whole city; we'd been in sleepy Cegled...it had been a while since I'd seen much hustle and bustle. It was invigorating. We decided to audition the hostel's showers and head out to see some sights. Sorry, no HOSTEL horror tales to report, it was a nice shower- nothing more.

Overwhelmed by the energy of the city we decided to take it all in right in the center of everything. In a main square, near a lovely fountain, we found a sidewalk cafe, and had extremely overpriced drinks and a bite to eat. Then we ventured across "the Duna" (Danube) and up towards the expanse of sprawling elegant museums. We took this queer little funicular up the hill. The line was not short, and there was a fair amount of pushing to get the best seat, and yes, we totally won that battle, sorry Hungarian kids, foreign tourists first! The sun was back as was the sweat attack once up at the top of the hill. We took some great pictures, bought some nice trinkets, Mylo dunked his head in a drinking fountain which disgusted some onlookers, even the carriage jockey had to squirt off his team of horses with a hose trying to alleviate the unbearable heat. That made me happy, I worry about horses, their line of work seem at bit slavish and depressing.




There was a wedding party followed by a parade of guest that we watched filter past, on their way to a decadent party no doubt. We were not jealous of those poor sweaty people in their frilly dresses and heavy suits. We made our way to the Castle, and cruised the surrounding cobbled square, perhaps one of the most picturesque places in Europe. A spectacular view of the city, the Dona, and the "birthday cake" parliament building. (I didn't make that up, the Hungarians authored that insult for their most well-known piece of architecture).


We decided to walk down the hill this time, we wound through cobbled switchbacks and meandered through the surrounding neighborhoods, which were surprisingly silent compared to hustle and bustle near the museums. We paused only to use a public toilet that cost two Euro! It was much like an outhouse, yet with a bathroom attendant. (yes, we were perplexed by this also). We eventually made it down the hill where we looked at the birthday cake from across the river before heading back towards our hostel. We decided that there was no need to see the building close up as half of it was covered with scaffolding. Apparently it needs constant renovation...like the Golden Gate Bridge, I was glad to know it wasn't just America that was filled with shotty tourist attractions. We made another stop at a cheerful little music and craft fair that was just starting up. There looked to be some delicious smelling grilled treats, which we considered making our dinner, but ultimately decided to eat gelato and drink wine at a cafe along side the river. You never know with me; sometimes I prefer the plastic cup and paper plate dinner to the the crystal glasses and linen menus, especially when I sweaty and tired, but this day had been such a wonderful day- it needed to be toasted with the proper glassware. We each got a delicate ornamented ice cream sundae, which has yet to be surpassed both in flavor and presentation. The "fudlare" in Hungary is about the best their is in my mind. It was the perfect end to a perfect day of sight seeing!

On our way back towards the hostel we encountered a bit of rain, so Ashlee and I ducked into Zara to do a little shopping until the rain passed. Mylo went to look in another shop next door. I was amused that there was a man at the doors whose express orders seemed to be to bag people umbrellas. (Since then I have discover this to be a universal practice in many rainy cities, but this is the first time I had encountered it and it made me feel quite fancy.)(I bought a white dress that I was pretty excited about at the time, now when I see pictures of me in that dress, I wonder what I was thinking). By the time we had had a look at every garment in the store the rain had ceased enough to continue back to the hostel.

That night we had plans to meet up with Janie, her X, and one of his friends. We found them at an Irish pub just around the corner. We sat at metal tables outside where we had lovely view of the whitewash buildings and a impressive church in the middle of the square that sparkled intermittently as the moonlit night sky was interrupted sporadically by fast moving clouds. Our round of beers hadn't even arrived when we heard the thunder, we expeditiously gathered our things at once, as buckets of rain started to fall upon us. As the night progressed inside the typical Irish pub; complete with dark wood, darts, sticky floors and a stale basement smell, the beers continued to arrive one tray at a time. We talked European politics, and exchanged heated opinions (The Hungarian national pastime I gather, i.e drink and debate). I, however, was beat and could barely stay awake- we all were, well, except for Mylo and the boys.

Ashlee and I decided to head back and call it a night. Janie and her friends ended up heading back to their place across town, and Mylo had an adventure of his own which will be recounted in Part 13.

The Magyar Memoir- Part 11 (The Stones in Budapest)

"Weekends" were the only motivating factor that kept us from jumping ship, since the bosses became progressively more annoying with each passing week. My students were cool, and I actually did look forward to seeing them each day, my main class was silly and made everything fun. The class I had for just one hour was a bit more serious, but they were all so sweet, I loved teaching them. However, by Friday were ready for the weekend! While we were still in Szeged I was doing something on the computer and Mylo came in and said, " hey the Rolling Stones are going to be in Budapest in a few weeks, so you want to go with me? I stupidly asked the a good question, but the wrong way. The way I should have asked the follow-up question would have been "who else is going", but I was too assumptive, and said "is Ashlee going?" He said no, she did not want to go. Again, key follow up, I should have asked "why", but I didn't. He said to me, he really wants to go, and I should come too, because it will be fun if we both go. He even offers to buy half my ticket. I really should have been more suspicious at this point. I say it's ok, you don't have to do that, I'll go, it does sound like fun. Later on I find out the catch…Norma's going too, Mylo, me, and the non-stop chatterbox- super! After consulting with Ashlee and Janie about the hell I was suspecting might insue with only one other person to shoulder the Norma nonsense, I recruited them to come with us to Budapest. We concocted some scheme where we tell Norma we are taking the last train back to Cegled, but we make sure that we get separated after the concert. So that she doesn't look or wait for us, we call her and say don't worry we will take the morning train or some bullshit, when in fact Ashlee, Janie, Mylo and I booked a hotel near the stadium where the concert was. On the way out of town, all five of is take the train to Budapest, it insanely hot, and the train arrives early, so we have to hall ass, and run across track to jump on the train. The train only stops in Cegled for like 3 minutes total. We find our way to our crappy plastic bench seat in the steerage section, after being asked to leave first class…déjà vu for Ashlee and I . We are all squeezed into a wooden box with a window that hardly opens…it's only an hour- right? Hahahah, nope! The train breaks down on the outskirts of Budapest. I was so ready to just walk the last 20 miles! Most people couldn't take it and got off the train and just stood next to it smoking or got a cab. The sun was setting, it was only about two and a half hours until the concert, it was frustrating for everyone, apparently except for me. I was really tired from the long week. The four of them were standing in the galley of the carriage where the door was open to get some air, and maybe some information on the state of affairs, but me, I was passed out, sawing some serious logs in our hot box. It was a monumentally fantastic nap, I sleep until I left the train start moving again, it might have been an hour, I don't really know because I was out cold. It was only a short distance to Nugatti station from there, then a quick subway ride and a quick taxi to our hotel, not sure how we managed to ditch Norma, but somehow we did, Mylo and I ran in dropped off our stuff, while we kept the meter running on the cab, the we rushed off to meet Norma again and go to the show.



The show really was fantastic, and memorable! It had finally cooled off a little that night, there were fireworks at the end of the show, even Norma was actually pretty fun to hang out with, mostly because she was so into the music that she shut up for once. Mylo and I drank a healthy amount of beer, which probably helped as well. Norma ended up leaving before the encore in order to not miss her train, Mylo and I actually felt bad that she wasn't able to stay to the end as she was having such a good time, we;d never seen her so happy. After the show, the crowds were mad, no chance we would get a taxi, the street cars were packed, we weren't even really sure which one to take, but we did know approximately where the hotel was, so we just started walking, and walking, and oh my god walking! I'd been standing at a concert all night, now I was walking 40 blocks home, I think I had bad shoe on too, so most of the walk I did in bare feet! It took over an hour, and one stop for snacks at a gas station, but we made it, and I had another phenomenal night's sleep in an air conditioned hotel!

The Magyar Memoir- Part 10 (Waterpark!)

This is how I described Cegléd. Perhaps because it was summer, perhaps for a variety of other reasons, many of the stores were shut during the day as well as the evening. Many with grafettied rolling shutters, it just saddened me a bit. This is also kind of insulting, I referred to Cegléd as the IE of HU, meaning the Inland Empire* of Hungary. Retrospectively, this is not an accurate description, as I have much disdain for the IE, where I lived either in or on the cusp of for much of my life. The comparison had more to do with the the fact that Cegléd was an hour from everything, much like the IE.
Although there wasn't a whole lot to do after work without a whole lot of effort and travel outside the city, I was in no hurry to expedite my time there. I hadn't really figured out what I would do next, and by this point I knew the job, and just wanted to enjoy the moment as best I could despite the extreme heat.
Most of us realized that our time in Hungary was fleeting, so we decided to make the most of our weekends. In order to do this we needed to unify in NOT being available on weekend for the dic's meetings and other whims. Starting Friday afternoons we wouldn't be tourists, not employees. We started with a trip to the Waterpark/ Turkish bath, located just outside the city, deep within the corn fielded suburbs. This is were I embarked on one of the scariest- yet most exhilarating moments of the trip.
At the water park they had the highest half pike I have ever seen, fiberglass lined, with a constant flow of water for lubrication. The idea is you sit on a tube and go down and up and down a few time, and eventually slide down into a pool at one end. Seems innocent enough- right? Perhaps this works if you're a child; but a fully grown adult that had regularly been indulging in goulash and fatty cholesterol ridden sausages hasn't the same effect. I was fired up to experience this ride, so I hit the sloop with full force in my tiny child size tube (it was nothing like a cloud of watery air goodness, as I had expected). It was like jumping butt first into a empty swimming pool, while covered in Vaseline. I was totally out of control- on my first trip up, I caught major air, I could see people below pointing in horror in slow motion, as I was a few inched higher than the guard rail! As I feel back into the earth's atmosphere I hit the ramp with as much force as a 50 mile per hours car crash, I'm sure I had at least minor whiplash at this point, but the ride continued a few more times up and down each time more painful and disorientating as the last. What fun ;~()
After that adventure, I tried a few tamer waterslides, which were still bit much for my fatigued body, so I retired to the lazy river, which was a good pace for me for a while, but it wasn't long before I made my home in the Turkish bath watching the pre-melinomic half dead seniors play chess, yup, that was where it was at. I liked that it was possible to get a beer, which could be taken in the bath, although the thought seemed insane based on the fact that we were outside in the sun, on a 100 degree day, in a 110 degree salt bath.
The adventure didn't really end there. When we left the park at closing, we watched as the last bus into the city pull away in a puff of smoke. We had no choice, we had to call the dictators for a ride, as we couldn't manage to get a taxi to come all the way out there. Not the best end to the day, but thankfully, they came and rescued us. I slept very well that night.

* The IE: It's not that this is a bad area, well some parts are very ghetto, but for the most part, it is simply a suburb located 30-60 miles east of Los Angeles. Some of it's notable features include some of the worst air quality in the United States, uncontrollable residential spral, culturally mixed populous, but in no real integration. There have been attempts made in the last ten years to create some high end shopping areas, to serve the nevou rich that were, up until the recent economic downturn, buying up the plethora of new mcmansions being built (on a naturally flood plane and directly in the path of a wind tunnel). Overall, the area is mostly a working class and middle class conglomeration. My theory is people don't choose to live hear, they just get trapped here, by way of job, lack of job, loved ones in need, or being knocked up by someone here. Talented, interesting people generally leave as soon as they are eighteen if they were raised here, or if they are outsiders, a job brings them here, and then they can't leave.*Victoria is an exception. *I am sort of an exception; but I think I could classify myself as being part of the financially trapped. The way it works when you live in the IE is first, complacently sets in, and eventually people just resign to the fact that this is what life is suppose to be like: void on conciseness, culture, and community.

The Magyar Memoir- Part 9 (the gate of the Great Plain)

Or as I liked calling it, “exactly an hour from anything and everything”…you find the quaint little town of Cegléd: population approx 39,000, but it feels like about 150 in the summertime. Cegléd boosts the biggest Calvinist church in Central Europe, it also has a long history; the town dates back to 1290, it seemingly didn’t survive the Mongol invasion structurally, but in the latter 1300s did come back into its own, and has been growing ever since. It later became important ‘safe town’ as it was sympathetic to the peasant uprising of 1514. The Turks and the Hapsburg empire both got their hands on it but and later lost their grip of little Cegléd. Then there was the whole Soviet business, but we won’t talk about that. Apparently, the Golden age of the town occurred during the turn of the last century when the bulk of the town was constructed, including Kossuth Secondary School…where I taught. 100 plus years later, I don’t think much as changed. It’s a sleepy little town, although it does have a Tesco, Vodafone shop, exactly two internet cafes, a movie theater, less than five restaurants, a few really nice bakeries, and no pubs. For all other modern conveniences, you must head Budapest or Szeged. It does host a Turkish bath and water park (all-in-one) on the outskirts of town as well as a very expensive and somewhat green public pool, both of which were lifesavers during the month- long heat wave, which had befallen us.
The hour train ride to Cegléd from Szeged was interesting nonetheless, an hour without any possible interruption from the dictators; we reveled in our air-conditioned quiet comfort, part and parcel of our first class tickets. Each of us ipod in ear, book in hand, by this time we had gone pro when it came to ignoring Norma’s annoying banter; and relaxed for what felt like the first time in three weeks. I took this time to do a little journaling, and reflecting, hoping the train might take it easy by which extending my time on the air-conditioned train. Every time I looked at Lana and Fedelio I burst into uncontrollable laughter, as packing was a problem for Lana. Therefore she just wore all the clothes that didn’t fit in her suitcase- jeans, a dress over, a t-shirt over that, etc. Then Fedelio decided to defend her by teasing me about my ultra-sporty American attire (which I deserved, I was looking especially white socked and sandled) He put on my baseball cap, tucked in his shirt, rolled the sleeves, pulled up the socks, and gave his best all-American smile, as I snapped pictures of the tacky duo. Due north through the Carpathian valley, heading towards the hot dusty planes of Cegléd otherwise known as the gateway to the great planes.
When we arrived at the train station, the dictators were waiting, (waving in slow motion based on my memory of the day), as if we had just returned from a year-long trip round the world. Our group was divided; one car would be driven by the dictators, the other car, a local that spoke a few words of English, but not more. We clamored trying to be the first into the local guy’s car. Lana and Fidelio drew the short straw, they gave us a obvious “F-You” expression as we speed off. We were treated to a tour of the whole town, by our local ambassador- it took five minutes. The Arizonia restaurant…the other Arizonia restaurant, the ice cream shop, the cake shop, the bakery that’s only open in the morning, the church, the old church, the main square, and our finally our flat.




Compared to the Sik Sandor, this flat was fantastic, actually compared to any foreign accommodations I’ve had, this place was spectacular! Top floor (with an elevator) view of the park, and the church, walking distance to school, and the two Arizonias, the two bakeries, and Norma was not walking distance from our place, (she was given a single across town), as was Laura and Fidelio. So it was Ashlee, Mylo, and me, three bedroom, two bathrooms, a washing machine, a TV, a stereo, cute kitchen, we were pleased! Except for one thing…Janie who would be replacing the chicken pocked Craig. Where would she be sleeping, we mused? We ran in to Lana and Fidelio when we went to dinner at Arizona No# 1, so we invited them over after to have a coffee at our place. We explored all the alternatives strategically. I could sleep on the couch, Mylo could sleep on Lana and Fidelo’s couch. Lana and Fidelio could move in to our place since we already knew and liked them, and Janie could have their place, we could make Janie sleep at Norma’s, no too mean, we pondered all options, and settled on me sleeping in the living room, and giving Janie my room. When she arrived, we all crossed our fingers that she wouldn’t be another Norma, since we were so close to accommodations bliss. When the Dic’s dropped her off, and left us alone (well, went next door, so that they could listen with a glass to the door), we realized that Janie was great, a perfect addition to our household and staff.
After the weekend the dictators decided they couldn’t allow me to not have a room, and decided to find a single flat for Mylo, so that it would be just the girls in the dream flat. We all felt bad about this, as he was our buddy, and deserved to get to live in the nice flat too. They found him a crap sublet around the corner, which meant that he sleep there but the minute he woke up, came directly to our place for breakfast, and stayed until bedtime.
There were a lot of rules at the dram flat, such as we could not eat anywhere but in the kitchen, nor drink anywhere but…you guessed it in the kitchen. In fact, the getting the security deposit back in it’s entirety was such an issue, sheets were delivered and we were directed to cover everything, so our placed looked like we were about to paint at all times. It was way too embarrassing to have any one over ever, good thing we encompassed what felt like 90% of the town population.
We loved this flat, and actually really enjoyed our tradition that we fell into of all having breakfast together while watching the BBC each morning. (In case you weren’t glued to BBC World in July of 2007, what you missed was a plethora of coverage about the US presidential coverage of the YouTube debates, and the inauguration of Pratibha Patil…what, you don’t know who that is?!) (India get’s a female president, why can’t we have one!) Then I’d grab my fan (to take to my classroom) and swing by the morning bakery for a coffee, on my way to school. My students were very nice, polite, funny, and eager to learn. I found them to be much worldlier then my classes at Szegvar, but I guess that’s to be expected as this was a town not a farm village. After school, it was usually a walk over to the other Arizona, for lunch, then we took turns saturating ourselves in cold water to remedy the near heat stroke conditions. All except for Ashlee, whose crazy Irish ass, would actually go lay out, in the sun, or worse yet, go jogging!