Budapest 2007…

Posted on Wednesday 4 July 2007

July 2

One of the great things about history is that one remembers the fine things and forgets the day to day agonies. I’ll remember being pampered in first class on the transatlantic flight to Budapest. And I’ll forget the airport delays in Atlanta, and the girl who wanted to put her wedding gown [for her wedding in Istanbul] in my overhead locker, and the two and a half hour wait in New York sitting in the plane waiting to take off, and the friend’s bag that didn’t make the flight, and what a six hour time difference feels like. We decided that all we could handle was a dip in the "baths," a bus tour of the city, dinner, and bed [which was only slightly more than we could handle].

Budapest is two cities, Buda and Pest separated by the Danube. The classical architecture attests to its hey-day [not anytime recently]. Unlike the prosperous European cities, the buildings show their age, having taken a major neglect hit from the years under the Nazis and the Communists. Our bus tour guide, Agnes, was great and showed us her city proudly. The history was a sad one. Hungary was settled by the Magyars from the Ural Mountains in 900 A.D., but its location [East meets West] means that for most of its history, it has been an occupied land. Like the history of our trip, one had the sense of much forgotten hardship – more than most places. Hungary was occupied by the Tartars, the Huns, the Ottoman Turks, and then played second fiddle in the Austria-Hungarian Empire. In the mid 19th century, they tried and failed to become independent, and things got even worse with the First World War. They were linked with Germany until the end of the Nazi era, then they were consumed by the USSR. There was a brief [and proud] moment in 1956 when Hungary revolted against Russia. Their revolt was unsuccessful, but it was an emerging moment for Hungary’s national pride. Finally, when the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, Hungary was born as an independent country for the first time in modern history. I asked Agnes [whose parents were participants in the 1956 Revolt] if they have good government now. "No," said she. "The Communists changed their name to Socialists. Same government as before." But that said, Budapest is a beautiful place – "restoring" rather than "restored," "modernizing" rather than "modernized." Some of the buildings here surpass any I’ve ever seen – like their Parliment building, but the Internet  connection is too weak on the boat to upload pictures tonight.

July 3

Today, it was a drive north to the "bend" area of the Danube with a private guide, Gabriella, even better. The Hungarian countryside is beautiful – truly quaint. We saw ancient Palaces and Castles, cobblestone streets – country unspoiled by signs and "modern" construction. The Danube flows down from the Black Forest in Germany to the Black Sea through and is undeveloped by American standards. But for me, the best part of the trip was our talkative guide, a woman in her 40’s whe grew up in Communist Hungary. She was less hostile to the Russians than the older guide from the day before. She talked about the days before "the change" and after in a more balanced way – advantages and disadvantages. She was originally a psychologist working with handicapped children. Her training was Pavlovian – though she and her classmates had carefully hidden photostats of Freud and Jung. She and her teacher-husband married around the time of "the change." They were given a loan on their apartment contingent on having two children within their first four years, which they did. Her father lost his job in a factory that made buses ["obsolete"] when Hungary became independent, so he now has a small vinyard and makes wine. Her husband, a Latin teacher now is an editor.

Her version was different – the anxieties of freedom [freedom to fail] versus the torpor of socialism. She said that unlike Americans who "live to work," she misses the fixed hours of her life before, though she enjoys the opportunities after "the change." She did not like the Russians ["sercet police"] but enjoyed the security of the Socialist state [which, by our standards, Hungary still has]. What’s wrong with communism is "it is not human nature." She had an interesting take on our war with Iraq. In the 1956 uprising, the Hungarians hoped America would come and rescue them – "it was naive, but that’s what we hoped. Life in a dictatorship is hard. Rescuing the Iraqis might be a good thing." But she followed with, "You’re in a mess now. Was it about the oil?" Then she told us a Hungarian joke. "We [Hungary] sent 300 soldiers to Iraq. The joke was, "We’re always on the losing side. Americans didn’t know what they were getting." Favorite Presidents? Roosevent [World War II], "Jimmy" who gave us back our crown" [in Fort Knox from WWII], and Reagan [the Berlin Wall]. Our response? "Jimmy was from Georgia." She enjoyed our telling her that in American-ese, "the change" means menapause. You could see her planning to incorporate that into her next tour. Her comment? "Another hard time."

Like most places we’ve been in the world. The first day of a trip is about the differences. After that, it’s about the similarities." And, as always, they know a lot more about our history and culture than we know about theirs.

July 4

An amazing day in which I became a master of the Budapest Metro. We toured their Parliment – built in 1896 to celebrate 1000 years. It was the end of their Hapsbourg period and is an excess of gilt and marble. What followed was World War I, World War II with the Arrow Cross [Hungarian Nazi Party] and then the Communists. There is a Museum here, the Museum of Terror, that chronicals those years – the holocaust, the persecutions, the executions. I did all right until we got to the 1956 Revolution. The Hungarian Revolt was amazing. The citizens rose up and drove the Russians out for 12 days – then columns of tanks from Russia arrived and squashed it. The joy of the people marching in the streets singing was excruciating, knowing what was to come within the week. The reprisals were horrible. The museum is in the building the Nazis used for their torture and executions, then the Russians "liberated it," but subsequently used it for the same purpose. The story is told in contemporary newsreels.

I tried not to think too much about our War, our torture, and Gitmo, but it didn’t work. I wanted to think "never forget" – not to hear about Bush commuting Libby’s sentence [on July 4th!]. I’m in no place to talk about that right now – I’ll just rant. The idea of America renouncing the Geneva Conventions, torturing prisoners, politicizing our justice system, and having a President that undoes the decisions of our courts is way to close to what I saw in that museum today. Way too close…

  1.  
    Smoooochie
    July 5, 2007 | 8:16 PM
     

    I met a woman today on the train while I was riding home. She was in her early to mid 60’s and said that by the time she realized how much she wanted to have a career travelling it was too late. She was married and with kids so she couldn’t travel. She went on to say how now she doesn’t travel because her husband doesn’t really like to stray far from home and because she’s “too old.” That made me feel sad. Sad that people give up the things that they want to do because of age or other people’s dislikes.
    I came home and read this travel journal again and was reminded that life is what you make it and that fulfilling life wishes doesn’t have an age limit on it. Thanks for writing this travelogue, Mickey. I always enjoy reading them and then seeing the fantastic photos Abby’s mom adds. 🙂

  2.  
    joyhollywood
    July 6, 2007 | 7:47 AM
     

    Smoooochie, I can’t seem to comment on your blog but I wanted to say something about what you wrote today. I was very much like the woman you met on the train. I’ve been married for over 34 years and my husband and I haven’t been on a plane together since our honeymoon together. My Mom has taken me to Europe and a few cruises much to my husbands chargrin. I aways wanted a garden and finally after a second brain surgery I picked up the phone and got my garden. After a third brain surgery I got a hot tub. Much to the opposition of my husband. He’s an engineer that fact might help you understand that if it’s not broken or a necessity you don’t really need it. There’s more to my story but I don’t want to bore you. M, I hope you don’t mind that I used your site for a short biography of myself. I wish you a wonderful vacation today and everyday. Oh by the way Smoooochie you are right, life really is what you make it.

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