i think this is the first time i've ever been back so late from going out. thank you, europe, for 3:30 last call. i even managed to avoid the night bus and get the metro, which starts running at 4:30 am. the early early morning crowd is a real treat.

tonight was also the first time when I realized-- i think it hit me in the toilet stall in Szimpla, as i was looking around at all the notes left by visitors to Budapest-- that i'm really here for a while, not just passing through, and i might even feel like i belong to this city, even if only for a little bit. the birds were chirping so loudly by parliament and all over kossuth ter, and i couldn't think of a more hopeful sound.

typical

Michael- "Sara said, 'haha we're so old.. you have a travel agent and I have a timeshare.' If that makes me old, then I don't want to be young."

Budapest night bus = nem jó

Okay, so I debated not writing about this for fear of seeming like a wuss, but whatevs.

I went out to Szimpla (a "beer garden," which is as awesome as it sounds) last night with a bunch of CETPers. It was pretty chill; I got to meet a lot of other people teaching in Budapest and in the rest of the country, attach faces to stories (CETP is like a summer camp or something in that way, freakin' rife with gossip- I love it), and hear about other people's experiences here. Everything was real swell until I agreed, not too reluctantly, actually, to throw palinka into the mix (that's the national Hungarian liqueur; tastes like fruity moonshine with a laundry detergent aftertaste). About two shots and one beer in, I felt like I wanted to crawl under the table into a fetal position and die. I swear to God, that plum-juice-mixed-with-Tide enfusion gave me an ulcer. For sure. Not wanting to reveal myself as the little bitch that I was (I was representing UMass, after all), I powered through till about 1 am, sitting there with my Dreher, sober, nauseated, and exhausted, using Herculean feats of strength not to upchuck all over everyone.

When the others decided to go to another nightclub, I decided it was time to pack it in and take the "night bus." How, where, what, I didn't know. I'll spare you the sorry details, but basically, made a few laps around Deak Ter and Astoria, being directed, re-directed, and misdirected by Hungarians and foreigners alike, none of whom knew what the fuck was up with anything. The bus drivers had no desire to talk to me, and probably thought that my smudged make-up and greenish skin tint was a mark of being trashed, and the unfairness of it all made me want to up chuck more. At one point, some dickwad with a cellphone ran up to me with arms spread wide, shouting what at first I took as "PUSSY!!!!". I then remembered that "puszi" means "kiss," which wasn't a sight better, and I ran away, practically weeping and muttering "er, koszonom, but nem." So finally I caved, and I took a 1000 ft taxi ride home (that's about $5-- freakin' worth every penny.)


Note to self- figure out transport prior to leaving house. Not being prepared= definitely nem jó.

In a Budapest McDonalds, watching DC on live cam.

Surreal. Amazing.

Highlights from Hungary

I'm now sitting in a Burger King by Oktogon where I can get unlimited free internet for the price of a Whopper and a water bottle (which is about $5, in case you were wondering). I'm not buying anything next time.

Orientation came and went, more or less. It was fun and tiring at the same time, and I was really glad to move into my own flat. The strangest part, of course, will be living completely by myself, which I have never done nor had the desire to do, though the apartment is small enough that the lack of another human being is not really palpable yet. We'll see.

Unpacking didn't take very long, as I only brought two medium suitcases. This was awesome when I was still transient, but might be problematic, as I realized I only packed 8 long-sleeve light shirts, and spring starts at the beginning or March here. It's probably fine (the motto of Hungary, from what I'm told). Also, no one seems to know how to use my washer.

Burning questions answered/unanswered about Hungary:

"Is that a slice of mozzarella or lard in my sandwich?" (still not sure)

"Can you get a Liter-sized stein of beer for under $5 in Budapest?" (yep)

"Did they just refer to the coming ice storm by the name of a famous national pastry!?" (yes: 'THE BIG DOBOS TORTA IS COMING!!!')

"Is wi-fi amply available?" (nope)

"Did that elderly gentleman just run down from his booth 10 feet away just to help me put on my coat?" (chivalry is not dead in Hungary)

"'Szex Shop'? 'Szendvics'? Whaaaa?" (yes, I love Hungarian)


Hopefully, my apartment will have internet within the week, but I won't be surprised if I don't get hooked up till February. So, over and out, for a while.

I am in Budapest. Budapest, as in Hungary. You may or may not have noticed I am not using contractions. This is because I am using a Hungarian keyboard, which at first glance is a QWERTY but has certain, er, quirks (qwerks), which I still cannot get used to. For one, the apostrophes. Two, Zs and Ys are switched, thus often producing the mysterious new pronoun zou. Anyway. This is my poor excuse of a segue into the attempt of answering the burning question: Budapest?! Huh??

Basically, it's pretty sweet. First impressions so far are that it's quite beautiful, but there's also a curious element of opposites going on, especially in terms of architecture. Side by side you will see two buildings, one with beautiful stone sculptures, oxidized copper facades, tall columns, and all that European old charm that Americans drool over simply because it looks like it could have been around before the Louisiana Purchase was a twinkle in Jefferson's eye, and then one building that looks like it was airlifted out of Kruschev's Moscow. Also, that European quaintness is doubly contrasted by the graffiti thats absolutely everywhere, even on what I would consider really fancy buildings. The strip malls right outside the city look very much like something out of Ware, Mass., so there are dreary consumerist brushstrokes added to the mix right there.

I found out that I will actually be working mornings at the high school in Pest (the flatter, newer, larger half of the city east of the river) and spend afternoons at the kindergarten in Buda (older, more posh side west of the Duna). So I will be crossing the river every day in the tram. I think that's the part I love most about living in cities, familiarizing myself with the public transport system. I find out where I'm living in a few days, which hopefully will be central enough. It is now almost 10 pm, and bed calls to me. Over and out for now.

Hello from London!

Specifically Leyton, East London, which is Danny's adorable place of residence. The neighborhood, from what I gather, is comparable to Allston/Brighton in the sense that it's all residential, the streets being rows upon rows of adjacent, pretty much identical houses. Many of the people who live here are from the Middle East, so you can see why Danny fits right in.

So far, my second experience in London has been totally different from my first. I was afraid I wouldn't have time to do anything different and new, but as it turns out, the only overlap so far has been two trips to Camden Town yesterday. Camden Town, for those who have never been, is basically Hot Topic and Faces, were they to have a baby and metastasize to the square area of a village. Colorful, hip, lots of cheap outdoor markets and tattoo parlors, etc etc. That was also, incidentally, where I got My Red Coat two years ago.



Last time, I had defined London through the typical touristy things, like Tower of London, the incredible museums, walking by Buckingham Palace, Parliament and Big Ben, etc. This time, I had hours to kill while Danny was at work (the GAP, if you can believe it), so I got to walk around different neighborhoods that I hadn't seen before, without the pressure of having to "see stuff." I think the strangest but most accurate way I can describe it is this: when we got on the Tube from Heathrow two years ago, what struck me immediately was a smell that seemed to be everywhere. It was like, soap or shampoo or something, but it was just everywhere I turned. I don't think anyone who has spent more than a week in London would agree that this city smells like it gets scrubbed down with Herbal Essences every night, but I stand by it. This city smelled great the entire time I was here (okay so it's probably just the government-issue all purpose cleaning solution they use, but bear with me). When I came over this time though, I only caught brief whiffs of it every once in a while. Sure, it probably just means they cut the budget for public maintenance or something, but I'd like to think that it's a representation of my own disillusionment or rather the ability to see a broader reality of a place I was obsessed with for so long. London is no less amazing for the lack of a pedestal, however, and if you haven't been yet, consider going sooner rather than later, while we still have Katie here.

Today we're going to the other side of the river to check out the Globe (nearly jizzed me trousers when I walked by it), the Clink: Ye Olde Dickensian Gaol (it's really just the Clink), and just walk around the South Bank snapping photos and digging through our fanny packs while wearing Hawaiian shirts. So perhaps this will be a plog after all.

Packed up

Books packed: Little Women, Understanding and Using English Grammar, Lolita, Hungarian dictionary and phrasebook, Teach Yourself Hungarian, Holidays on Ice, Fingersmith.

DVDs packed: Felicity (Season 1, duh), Amelie, A Little Princess/The Secret Garden, Mrs. Doubtfire.

Decorative items: African wall hanging from Katie, creepy Victorian mask from Meredith, Norman Rockwell's Save Freedom of Worship, Shakespeare.

What else could one need to feel at home?