Pagans, Problem Solving, Praha

A few weekends ago (er, almost a month now…) a group of 8 of us BSMers took a train to the village of Mohacs (moe-HOTCH) for a Pagan end-of-winter festival called Busojaras (boosh-oh-YAR-ash).

                

See those figures in sheepskin and wooden masks? Those are called Busos–sort of devils. The story goes that when Hungary was part of the Ottoman Empire around the 17th century, the people of Mohacs lived across the river on an island. To protect themselves from the invading Turks, they put on these masks and made lots of noise, and one stormy night, apparently, it was enough to scare them away. This is a tradition they now reenact every year as part of a Pagan saying-goodbye-to-winter festival–complete with an unsettling voo-doo statue of a Turk, which they ceremoniously yell at and throw various unpleasant bits of trash at.

So, although the Busos are supposed to be scary, they’re also meant to bring good luck to us, so it’s a good idea to be friendly to them. With that, everyone seemed to want a picture with one or two (or ten). Moreover, the festival is part of the Pagan festival of Farsang, which celebrates the end of winter. And I’m all for that.

On the train ride to Mohacs, we were trying to talk to one of the women, but, as she spoke only a few words of English (kicsit angolul), another Hungarian man came to our rescue, translated that we needed to transfer at Villanyi to get to Pecs, and then told us that he was, in fact, also going to Mohacs and would be happy to accompany us if he could practice his English (he was with his girlfriend, explaining that they were going to visit family in California soon). So, he told us all about the festival: about the parade,  the dancing, the museum, the cannons, and the coffin they float across the Danube to signify winter, and finished by speaking to the four females in the group, saying that the people of Mohacs tend to be overly friendly during this festival because it also celebrates the fertility of women (how many ceremonies can they fit into one festival?), and that the Busos may be a little…sexual in nature…and sprinkle paprika seeds on us (fertility seeds), but, he said, they are harmles. “Don’t be hard.”

Us with the friendly Hungarian and his girlfriend. From left: Sam, Andy, Reggie, the Hungarian, his girlfriend, me, Sharon, Sarah, Mel, and Thomas

Mel stands her ground against a friendly Buso

After four hours of sitting on trains after a week full of math, we immediately brightened up when we reached the main square. I wanted to buy a souvenier, like a small mask or a noisemaker, but, since they were all genuine items that people dress up in and reuse every year, they all seemed expensive.

Still, we got to see the parade, the dancing, the music, Busos throwing things at the makeshift Turk, firing the cannons, more music and dancing, the livelihood of the town (it’s a small town of about 10,000 which at least doubles in population over this week), the coffin on the river, and Busos as far as the eye could see. We got to the hostel, in the nearby city of Pecs (pronounced “paytch”, actually a major cultural center itself) around 11 that night, and for 3000 ft each, we had 2 rooms, each with 6 beds, all to ourselves, along with a PC and a full kitchen. The owner was also fantastic, and we played with his son, who did not speak English. That night, we all slept so deeply and so gloriously that we were ready to take a bus back to Mohacs on Sunday for round 2 of Busojaras, which included a lot of the same as round 1. But we also went to a museum which provided the history of Mohacs. We all slept for at least an hour on the ride back and, upon arrival in Budapest, I barely made it to my bed before I conked out again. Two days, two train rides, two bus trips, non-stop festivities, and I was out.

But Monday morning, of course, I was back in class for Mathematical Problem Solving, which is always a pleasant way to start a week. The professor is actually a high school teacher, which allows the class a bit of uniqueness among courses that are entirely utterly lecture-based. In Mathematical Problem Solving, we actually work out different strategies in class; plus, every lesson is something of a choreographed performance by the professor.
Next, on Tuesday, is Combinatorics, which is cool because, since we’re still only a few weeks in, I have a grasp on picturing what we count. Plus, the professor is very clear. Similarly, I find the notes my Geometry teacher writes to be so clear that I barely use the book (although it’s definitely my hardest subject of the 4). As for Analysis, we’re about 3 weeks in at this point and are already past what my Semester I Analysis course taught. Here’s my schedule in full:

Monday: 12-2: Mathematical Problem Solving
Tuesday: 8-10: Combinatorics
12-2: Topics in Geometry
Wednesday: 8-10: Topics in Geometry
12-2: Topics in Analysis
2-5: Intermediate Hungarian
Thursday: 12-2: Topics in Analysis
Friday: 8-10: Combinatorics
12-2: Mathematical Problem Solving

With 4 maths and 1 language, I luckily have some leeway to drop one class if I’m drowning. At any point in the semester, I’m allowed to switch a class to “audit” and not receive a grade for it.

Last weekend, a Bryn Mawr friend studying in Prague, Caitlin, visited, so we tourist’d it up. I showed her friends and her the humongous synagogue on Dohany, took them to Szechenyi Baths in Varosliget (while it was raining–fantastic), and showed them Hero’s square on Friday. But on Saturday, while I was at Margit-Sziget, they took an epic walk from Kalvin Ter to Gellert Hill to Buda Castle to the House of Terror to Margit Hid to Hummus Bar, stopping at all the major attractions on the way. I only tagged along for the tail end, after searching out some thrift stores in my area. So, after having another delicious meal at Hummus Bar, we went across the street to Szimple, a bar, which was having a Purim party. Each of us voted for our favorite costume. Then I showed them Szoda and Mumus, the staples of BSM. After I walked them back to the hostel (they must have been so beat), there was still a BSM gathering going on near Astoria, so I show up, and what else is going on that a few rousing games of Set and Bananagrams. Neeeeeeerds.

And the aforementioned “supermarathon relay?” Over the weekend of March 20-21, I have officially been signed up, along with 3 others, to run 1 or 2 legs of a supermarathon (95 km, about 60 mi) around Lake Balaton, about an hour outside of Budapest. One leg = about 11 mi, so not too extreme. But I should probably start building up now. Our team name was my idea, a simple one: szigma–we are the sum of our individual efforts.
It’s going to be glorious.

Here Comes the Sun

It was the most beautiful day today, of all the days I’ve been in Budapest. No more snow, and all this sun in my eyes.
I have to apologize about temporarily abandoning this blog; as it turns out, the internet in our apartment has not been working, forcing me to be much more efficient with the internet time I do get (wi-fi at cafes, in friend’s houses, at school). Things to update on since I was last active:

1. Mohacs, including: masked croatians, dancing, Busos, and general festivities as part of Busojaras (also the history of it)
2. The five classes I have decided on (Analysis, Geometry, Combinatorics, Mathematical Problem Solving, and Intermediate Hungarian–not to mention Classical Algebra, which finished today)
3. Palacsintas! and Kadar Eatery! and another visit to Buda!
4. An unsuccessful attempt to attend Shabbat services at an adjoining chapel to the Holocaust museum, in southeastern Pest.
5. Finishing Enemies of the People, and about to start The Great Escape, by the same author, which will actually pertain more to my studying mathematics here.
6. Plans for the future: a supermarathon relay, a trip to Italy, Amsterdam, and, much sooner, Transylvania.
7. Pictures aplenty

Ah, and I leave you hanging. This weekend I meet a friend visiting from Prague, so we’ll do more touristy things. I feel the need to travel outside of Budapest, since my time in Europe is limited, but it seems there is always a new corner to explore here. And plenty of sun to enjoy.

Lim (maths)

And now, the descent into math classes…

As part of BSM, the first three weeks are allotted as shopping weeks for classes, so students can sit in on as many as they care for and then decide between them (registration after the third week). Everyone agrees this is a great setup because we can take in all the maths we want in the first three weeks and then dive further into fewer subjects after. Everyone agrees this is a terrible setup because we will take in as much maths as we can in the first three weeks. In that vein, it’s recommended to take about 5-8 maths for now then narrow it down to 3-6 once favorites become clear. The problem arises when they all are.

On Monday (with all classes in 2-hour blocks), I attended differential geometry, mathematical problem solving, and classical algebra. I quickly realized that with little topology and no analytic geometry in my background, differential geometry would not work. Mathematical problem solving was loads of fun, though; the first few problems we spent time on just push the boundaries of most students’ problem solving abilities. the professor is childlike and plays an ocarina to reconvene the classroom. It’s going to bring in some combinatorics, some number theory, some geometry, and some college algebra to hone students’ problem solving skills (good for the Putnam?). As for classical algebra, it’s an interesting concept; this American professor (the only American in the program) is going to teach an ungraded, 12-hour (total), 3-week “catch-up” course for students to make sure they have all the prerequisite algebra that a Hungarian entering this math program might have (“Everything Gauss knew when he was 19”). The first two sessions have been entirely on complex numbers, which I have never studied more than in passing, so I was attempting to focus, but…it seems the professor makes mistakes that I even notice, and jumps from one topic to the next so fast that if I’m going to understand complex systems, it’s not going to be his doing. And it follows four hours straight of math, so focusing is hard.

On Tuesday, I sat in on an intro combinatorics course (big in Hungary), complex analysis (taught by the only female professor), and topics in geometry. Combinatorics was cool because the professor seemed like such a nice guy, but I think I will definitely despise counting problems by the end, e.g. how many different permutations of the letters in the word “optimization” are there? I liked complex analysis because the professor actually laid out the structure of the class by giving us some theorems we were going to cover; it meant a lot of different areas in a short amount of time, and I know most of the class didn’t quite follow the proofs yet, but I genuinely think she’d be a good professor. And topics in geometry was awesome. The professor moves at just the right pace inbetween too challenging and too comfortable. He began by saying, “nobody likes Euclidean geometry. We’re going to skip over Euclidean geometry.” Twenty minutes later, we were looking at Euclidean planes. But next week, I think, we’re going to begin spherical geometry (from a spherical perspective rather than a flat one), then we’ll do projective geometry (looking at transformations), and then hyperbolic (negating the fifth postulate about parallels).

I was starting homework for that class in a communal study room, and trying to find a shape which would give me a certain isometry. A BSMer who I recognized but did not know walked in, asked what I was working on, and then the two of us spent the next 15 minutes coming up with a single shape to fit the criteria. This is why I’m part of a fantastic program.

And Wednesday was all about Geometry, Topics in Analysis, and Hungarian language. I’m glad I decided to go with “topics in analysis” rather than “real functions and measures,” which is the advanced version, because we are moving very fast as it is in the topics class, which is supposedly intro-level. Although I’ve taken a Real Analysis I class, it mostly spent more than enough time on every definition and theorem, so we moved slowly; i.e. I think we’re going to cover the majority of that semester-long analysis course within two weeks of this one, and throw in a lot of new information/perspectives in that time. As for the afternoon (3-hour long) Hungarian class, it was with Erika, who I had for the intensive language course, so it was great. We sang a song about whales eating rasperries, and it’s probably good that there was no writing on the first day, because my brain was shot.

On Thursday, I returned to Complex Analysis, Real Analysis, and Classical Algebra, and Friday, I was back in Combinatorics and Mathematical Problem Solving. I really like all these classes; I think it’s going to come down to Complex Analysis vs. Real Analysis and Mathematical Problem Solving vs. Combinatorics…but I don’t want to make this choice. Could there be a problem in combinatorics here? Anything to keep me from deciding.

Pictures are Helpful

Why limit myself to words when I’ve already taken so many pictures?

(Language class, with Tanar Erika in the middle)

On Friday, we had our last day of language class. Our culminating activity was a skit written independently by each class, which was supposed to revolve around this running thread of dialogues. It follows an innocent love story between Kevin, an American, and Csilla (CHEEL-ah), a Hungarian who speaks no English. (Obviously, the skit was to be in Hungarian.) In our skit, a fight scene between Peter and Kevin was extended as I (Csilla) forgot to say “a Metro jon!” (the metro comes!), to cue Kevin’s death. It was almost the most eventful dialogue we’d had over the two weeks (next to the one entitled “Csillaszobajaban”, of course (in Csilla’s room)).

After school we went to this Mediterranean restaurant called Hummus Bar and bought 3 plates full of falafel, hummus, mushrooms, chickpeas, beans, and vegetables/spices. It was probably one of my favorite meals thus far.

That night, we made another attempt at Submarine Diszko, to no avail again–no diszko until March! It’s a funky restaurant, actually decorated to look like a submarine.

So instead we went to Mumus, where we’d been only two short weeks ago, and we danced to great music with great people. Even the Hungarians extended friendly arms and welcoming words to the strange crowd of Americans on their dance floor.

Then on Saturday, Anthony and I walked along the Pest side of the Danube and stopped to take pictures in the vicinity of Parliament, hoping to tour the building, also. (Post-1989, Hungary formed a democratic republic with a prime minister; the party system seems to be dominated by socialists and conservatives, and currently MSZP, Magyar Szocialista Party, is in power.) Then, since he hadn’t seen Hero’s Square, we went back to my apartment and to the park. I also went into the art museum, which has an exhibit on Degas and Picasso, but, as time was limited, we only went into the gift shop, where I stocked up on postcards.

Meet Attila Jozsef, the famous 20th century Hungarian poet.

After the excursion, Anthony and I helped cook food for about 10 of us and then met up with Dan, Sam, and Sam’s new roommate Andy for a Hungarian folk concert. Oh my goodness. Siraly is a cafe that Sam had heard of, so we searched it out on Friday afternoon, and then decided to attend this advertised concert on Saturday. In the band, there was this ridiculous fiddler, a bassist, a funky female vocalist, and this crazy beatboxer/percussion guy. At one point, the beatboxer took the stage and explained his act beforehand (in Hungarian), but we could only guess that he was beatboxing himself though a bunch of daily routines (shower, brushing teeth, cooking, etc.), set to popular music/rap/hip-hop tunes he interspersed with his voice. After the music ended we lingered in Siraly (all very tired) and planned out a Sunday trip to the park for a pagan pig festival, some throwing around a football (not my idea), and possibly baths. Unfortunately, I was torn between going to the park and taking a run to Margit Sziget…and landed on Margit Sziget. I’ve been seeing a lot of a lot of people for a lot of time lately, so it was simply a personal preference. After a day where I was mostly exhausted, I cooked dinner for three of us and we bought a nice dessert. Then we all fell into a happy/sleep/food-induced coma

I’ve been reading a book my grandparents had told me a lot about before I left, called Enemies of the People, by Kati Marton. It documents Marton’s journey through discovering the corrupting forces of her childhood in Budapest, via secret police (AVO) files kept about her family in the Nazi and Communist eras. These have relatively recently been made available to the public, which would certainly be a strange experience. I’m only at the point where Rakosi is put back in power and her father has been arrested as a spy (he is the only remaining journalist reporting to USA from behind the Iron Curtain). What a story, though! Page after page after page reveals the injustices against her family and the true heroism of her parents. The reading is fairly light, even for someone who isn’t a history buff, so I would highly recommend it.

Next weekend I take a train to Mohacs for an end-of-winter festival, but right now I’m occupied with figuring out my internet. (Typing from a computer lab in school.) Happy end of winter!

That’s it, I’m Starting a Stamp Collection

Hungarian fun fact: asking a female if she wants to see your stamp collection (“belyeggyujtemenyed”, plus accents) is a not-so-subtle way of trying to get her to come back to your place. Alternatively, Prof. Erika explained, it can mean that someone wants to sell you LSD. Next to the phrase that Anna, my Hungarian runner-friend, sent me (which will not be revealed in a family-friendly blog), it’s basically the most scandalous Hungarian phrase I know.

Tonight Brittany made cheeseburgers (with hot sauce and eros pista), oily pasta, bread, and salad for five of us, and we coupled it with plenty of wine. With plans for the weekend beginning to take shape (submarine dizko and/or boat-jazz dizko, the circus and/or underground caves, parliament tours, statue park, shopping, Hungarian film festival, Farsang party, plotting a maths schedule, plenty of choices), language school about to end, and people in my flat cheerily chit-chatting, I am so pleased. I feel there is so much good to come.

A Night at the Opera

The title is pertinent, but I should give my extensive update in chronological order, starting at the weekend.

On Sunday, Brittany and I bundled up for a cold day, and then stripped down to take a dip in the hot baths that are famous in these parts. We went to one in the nearby park, and oh man was it luxurious. The building was palacial, and in the lobby there was so much antiquated artistry I could not decide what to take a picture of. For about 20 USD, we got a day pass to the baths and wound our way through the maze of halls to find the locker room, and then somewhow stumbled upon the outdoor baths in the courtyard. And wow, if I was astounded by the lobby, I was dumbstruck and senseless by the time we found the baths. Picture: three large oddly-shaped pools with steam rising above them and snow falling onto the steam. Golden palace towers on all four sides. Probably about 10 Greek-esque statues scattered around. People rolling around in their bathing suits in the snow. Everyone, laughing, smiling, happy, relaxed. Not a care in the world.

We started out in the third bath, the hottest one, in which two old men were playing chess, but it seemed as though the majority of people there were couples. So we moved on to the first pool, which was less hot, but had massage jets to sit on and a circle whirly-pool which kids (along with everyone else) could ride around in. As for the indoor baths, they were more like large hot tubs. There were so many, though; no wonder the locker room was tough to find.

After the baths, we were both hungry, which just made for some unpleasant crankiness. We finally landed at a pub-ish restaurant near our house and I ordered breaded turkey stuffed with salami and cheese, she had turkey with apple and Camembert, and we both had soup beforehand. Classic Hungarian food. So filling.

Today, Wednesday, started out with a trip to the embassy in Buda to get our residence permits, which allows us to travel outside the country beyond our visas. We gathered at 8 AM (ouch), and to get a day filled with official paperwork started right, about five BSMers showed up a few Bloody Marys down. I suppose it was a good day.

After getting stamped, we stopped by a school store to get supplies, and then Anthony and I went to the West End Mall at Nyugati Polyaudvar (subway station) to check out and possibly begin the fashion assimilation-transition towards Hungarian looks. (impression: neutral colors, dark jackets, sweaters, tight jeans with boots/heels (everyone here feels a bit taller for that, which I like), straight hair, classic pieces) Entirely unsuccessful, but hopeful. I headed home right after, hoping to conk out before our night at the Operahaz, but no such luck.

Ah, and the Opera. Taking the metro there alone, I dropped my cheap running watch on the sidewalk, which is the type of thing I’ve done so many times before but never get less frustrated about. Now I keep looking at my wrist for the time, and then sigh longingly. Things lost thus far: one watch, one earring, a bit of money. Not bad.

But the opera and the operahouse were cool. They were playing Csajkovszkij’s (Hungarian spelling) Anyegin, or Eugene Oredin. I recognized a few pieces, specifically the first dance scene in the third act, but it was a performance I was generally unfamiliar with. More importantly, though, the tickets were 400 ft–about 2 USD. How could I pass that up?

Ignorantly, we forgot to look up the synopsis before coming. The opera was in Russian, so they did put subtitles up on the screen above the stage, in Hungarian. In the first act we would nudge eachother in the elbow when they posted an easy phrase like “nagyon orulok” or “miert nem tancolsz”, but luckily one of the group gave in and invested in a synopsis program in English during intermission, which cost little more than what tickets plus coat check cost each of us separately, and read out loud the plot. Then we were able to say, “Ohhhh, the guy in red is rejecting that crazy woman with the blanket dance but she’s going to get with a prince.” Certainly a worthwhile show, and such a gorgeous venue. I took my camera, but forgot to take pictures–I suppose that means I might just have to go back.

Get on Your Dancing Shoes!

Mom, Dad, all that staying up late and practice running on little sleep has, in fact, paid off this weekend. Last Thursday morning, Brittany and I announced that we would be hosting a dinner party on Saturday. This was a whim we had on Wednesday evening, walking home, as a few of us were raving about the dinners Brittany was making. I said that everyone in the program should come for dinner at least once, so we decided a dinner party would be the best way to showcase Brittany’s cooking and our apartment (which, with so many chairs, is made for this type of gathering). After dinner, we were planning to head out to Club Verne, which is advertised as a submarine disco club, a place below Christy’s and Sarah’s apartment in the eighth district. It was described only as a disco that looks like a submarine; whether the decor is submarine-esque, or it’s simply underground (would kill the hype), or they just really enjoy submarine-themed songs, we had no idea. But submarine disco was definitely going to be a highlight. For the dinner party, Brittany and I gave directions to our apartment and asked everyone to bring something small (bread, salad, etc.), but we were careful not to invite everyone (our apartment has at least 15 chairs, but not 40). And then we wrote lists, lists and more lists–but we didn’t actually start doing anything until Saturday. I guess I should first recount Friday night.

In school, a bunch of us picked up an issue of “Time Out: Budapest” and decided to scour it for good dance clubs. So on Friday, we went for one called Corvinteto near Blaha Luzja Ter (aka Blaha), right above a supermarket (Tanar Erika, langauge school teacher, raved “all the youth love that place”). Colored lights, graffiti, loud music, it was definitely the place to dance and not to talk, which was mostly a change from us BSMers’ previous gatherings. That night I tried the famous Hungarian pear Palinka and met some Hungarians using my basic vocabulary (hallo, hogy vagy? jo, es te?) but mostly English. Anyway, we stayed there until at least 2 a.m. They played a lot of music I’d recently been feeling including Arctic Monkeys, MGMT, and Florence and the Machine (hey thanks Mark for all of that music), but it had already been a long week of 8-hour-class days coupled with attempting to get settled, so at some point we all made our way home.

Therefore, it was by accident that Brittany and I slept into the afternoon on Saturday and did not start any party planning until around 2 (with guests arriving at 6:30, dinner at 7). We knew we were to provide shepherd’s pie, carrots, fruit salad, and libations, so she headed to the grocery store to get cooking supplies and I went straight for the Great Market near Ferenciek Ter to get fresh fruit and veggies. As it turns out, it was closed, which for a minute made everything that much more frustrating. But I found one of many fruit and veggie stands instead, and cursed that I forgot to bring a bag (here, they charge to fill a plastic bag with food, and the plastic bags are very flimsy anyway). So, with plum Palinka in one hand, juice in the other, and a bag filled to the brim with fresh produce, I got on the Metro in the wrong direction. And did not come home until around 4, when, luckily, Britany had already started peeling potatoes and cooking beef. We worked like madwomen: peeling, chopping, frying, laying out, mashing, opening, mixing, baking (figuring out how to light a gas oven is an interesting ordeal), and cleaning/preparing the house in the minutes with less to do. But it all came together around 6:40…when we received about 3 guests. After that, they started coming in droves;  a  couple to buzz in. Then a group of five. Then six others. By 7:15, we were laying out bread, bruschetta (Nick’s delicious contribution), cheese, and wine, and each subsequent item seemed to be so easily vanquished, so we cut into the shepherd’s pie and carrots around 7:45, to rave reviews. This was definitely an accomplishment, considering not only that we had no idea where to light the burner on the oven, but we also had no way of knowing what the temperature was, or set a timer. About 18 people got some of the entree, 15 got chairs, and 6 others showed up later for dessert. There was also a fantastic ratio of side dishes that people brought; lots of bread and cheese, but it was all demolished by the end of dinner. The desserts stayed out, as did the wine. And by the end of the night, all 11 bottles of wine/palinka that were bought/brought were wiped clean. Add that to the six or so wine bottles that Brittany and I had previously cleaned out ourselves (sometimes with guests), and the shelf of empty bottles we’re keeping is slightly…..embarrassing?

A smashing success. We were going to head to Submarine Disco, but everyone was so enthralled in their discussions that we never did. About ten people stayed past 1:30 a.m., at which point Brittany and I were so falling-over-dead-tired that we needed to kick them out, so we crashed in bed without cleaning up anything and this morning worked for hours sweeping, taking out trash, washing, dusting. Nothing broken, one blanket lost. Success.

And the plan for the rest of the day? Turkish baths. Grocery shopping. Study vocabulary so we can learn 4 new conjugations tomorrow. Get some sleep. Perhaps.

The Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner Club

I like my apartment, but definitely the best part of my living situation is my roommate. Not only does she keep me on a healthy sleep schedule which gets me to class at least ten minutes early, but she cooks. And how! From a few servings of chicken, some fresh veggies, sweet n sour sauce, and one lemon (all in all about 2000 ft, about 11 USD), she has made two really simple, sumptuous chicken and vegetable dishes, and nearly the best butternut squash + onions I have ever had (very sweet–next to Thanksgiving squash, of course). Most nights we invite a guest or two over and the food splits nicely between three people. They, as we, have always left satisfied.

But certainly the other highlight for me is breakfast. Coming from the cold cereal end of things, I was at first noncommittal when she wanted to make omlettes for us every other morning. But after the first breakfast (where she used up her Vermont cheddar), there’s no way I can turn this up. I’ve definitely been converted to hot breakfast. Our staples are generally yogurt, bananas, bread, milk, and jam, so that first meal is always extremely satiating and can hold me through 1 p.m. For that, I have no trouble getting out of bed at 7 a.m.

Tomorrow, Brittany and I venture to the szupermarket and to the great market hall (fresh fruit and veggie stands as far as the eye can see, in a giant building that looks like a train station) to prepare for a dinner party we’re hosting for BSM-ers on Friday. [Edit: changed to Saturday. We definitely need more time to shop] What we’re making will be a surprise, but we’re going to attempt to accomodate about 20 people, which will definitely be a feat in our situation (luckily, everyone should bring a non-entree item). But it’s something I’m definitely excited about, especially to showcase my roommate’s cooking and the fresh food here. I’ll probably end up doing more planning than cooking, but hopefully will be able to make a dessert, handle some vegetables, or make some other tiny contribution.

And yes, there is also Hungarian food. Oh man, is there. A typical Hungarian dish consists of lots of meat (good luck to Bridgit who’s a vegetarian) with creamy paprika sauce along with some potatos or side starch. For lunches and quick meals, fast(er)-food Gyros/Turkish places abound. City Gyros, a few blocks from my apartment, and the Turkish corner restaurant near Babilon language school (why don’t I remember the name?) definitely have my loyalty. Besides that, I’ve tried goulash (famous Hungarian meaty soup, quite good), pizza mexicoi (“mexican” pizza a.k.a. crust, red sauce, ham, and corn?), donor, cheesy baguette, and some cabbage and vegetable soup…But, really, the highlight of Hungarian cuisine has been the pastries. Outside the language school is an awesome chain called PrimaPek, but generally there’s a pastry shop within walking distance from any point. For 195 HUF (1 USD), I can get a croissant filled with pizza fixings/nutella/vanilla/ham/cheese. Or a cheesy roll. Or a chocolate bun. Or the famous “Turo Rudi”: frozen chocolate surrounding a stick of sweet cottage cheese. I’ve only tried about two of these items, but there will be opportunity for all. With time. 

We finished dinner a good while ago and topped it off with a glass of wine each, but now there’s food on my mind again. Where did that leftover squash get off to? I’m feeling Hungary.

Nagyon Örülök

(So nice to meet you)

Language class is pretty cool. What I probably find the coolest is that 3 days ago I could not speak a word of Hungarian, could not even read it coherently, but today I feel confident that I could go into the local market and buy some fresh fruit. The language school (separate from maths school near my apartment) is broken up into 4 classrooms, each with about 10 students. So far, we’ve covered the alphabet, counting, fruits and veggies, basic conversation/introductions, direct object, pronouns, prepositions, about 7 conjugations, and other little phrases, notably about 20 different ways to communicate that I’m an American student and I don’t know much Hungarian. The class is structured smartly, so that vocabulary is more focal than sentence structure/grammar/verb tenses, which would be massively difficult to grasp in 2 weeks. So even if we’re saying the equivalent of “forints how much wine are?” and become an endless source of entertainment for Hungarians, at least we don’t need a translator.

Although it’s about a 40 minute hike to the language school, my roommate and I insist on walking. This means she gets up at 6 and I get up at 7, which, if you know me, is an exceedingly unusual schedule for me to be on. But we usually make a nice hot breakfast and get a very pleasant chat on the walk before sitting for hours on end.

The teacher, Erika, is very good. She takes time out to answer any questions we have about the city, slows down/speeds up accordingly, and knows which phrases are the important ones to learn. And, strolling through the city these days, the other students and I will proudly point out “look, husbolt! meat market!” or “feher–that must mean it’s white wine”. And we always toast “egeszsegedre!” (to your health), thank “kosonom”, and excuse “boscanat”. Of course, our accent tends to be entertaining for the Hungarians we talk to, but sometimes everybody needs a good laugh. Entering a club called Szoda on Friday night, we were stopped by 2 serious-looking bouncers who started firing off in Hungarian. Timidly, I requested, “angolul beszel?” (do you speak English?) to which they guffawed and responded, “magyarul beszel?” (do you speak Hungarian?). But then they ushered us inside with bright smiles on. Aha, you silly Americans.

Speaking of this weekend, I should mention it has been exactly as I’d hoped: busy. Most of this has revolved around one of the student’s (Mike’s) 21st birthday.
Part I: On Thursday night, we enjoyed a strawberry-yogurt-flavored, nutella-frosted (nutella is everywhere) birthday cake, and later went out to a Mexican-ish restaurant called Iguana (near Parliament). Although it didn’t exactly go along with the “immersing yourself in Hungarian culture” thing (very Americanized), the place was comforting and yummy. And one of the first nights I really felt like I clicked with a group, mostly made up of the students in my classroom.
Part II: I went exploring a lot on Friday, but that night we we hit a bar near Babilon (language school) called Katapult, then continued on to Mumus, this wonderful artsy/smokey (really they all are) hole-in-the-wall that we remained at way past our bedtime. Walking there, I made myself notorious by administering a concussion test when one of the students hit his head smack dab on the pavement. He was fine.
So when we finally got into Mumus later, we got to experience this awesome stalagtite/stalagmite-paper-mache room with a laser sunflower on the wall (Mumus is simply impossible to describe), and before I left I got to hear a song in which this mob of dancing, belligerent Hungarians on the dance floor (Anthony proudly reports, “Hungarians are terrible dancers. This is great for me.”) shouted out the chorus containing the words “Magyar” (Hungary) and then “Amerika” (USA). I can only imagine what was said.
On a side note, I have never administered a concussion test. Muna, my beautiful hallmate-frosh at Bryn Mawr, told me about getting a flashlight shined in her eyes to check how fast they dilated, so that’s what I did. She plays rugby–enough said.
Part III: Went to a small apartment party/getting to know you on Saturday at Mike’s apartment in the ninth district (near a bunch of museums). This was a great topper to the weekend. I feel like I have a great majority of the 40 or so names of students (who are doing language course) down at this point. Then come another 30 when maths starts…

Of note is my aim for this experience in Hungary. I realize much of the study abroad culture these days revolves around drinking and doing less work, but this is not my idea for the semester. I purposefully chose a program that is not exactly mainstream, one that is academically rigorous, and one that has an intriguing culture, to get an experience that’s best for me.

On Saturday, I took a long run all the way to Buda (I’ve witnessed exactly one runner since I arrived in Budapest. Anna from Bryn Mawr informed me nobody runs in Budapest).  On the way, I stopped to gawk at the Operahouse, St. Stephen’s Basilica, Parliament (again), a large academy, the Chain Bridge over the Danube, and then Buda. Budapest is truly a beautiful city, and I feel as though I’m getting to know it better every day. I only wish I could have taken someone on my run to be able to say, “Wow, check out that statue!” Hopefully I’ll get those pictures up soon.

And today has been more about sleeping, getting things done, studying the language, and visiting a nearby park (Varosliget). Hopefully Brittany and I will pay our rent soon (whoops?), get the bed fixed/figure out laundary, mail a postcard or two, and maybe someday I’ll find a bank that won’t charge Bank of America customers an unfair amount per transaction.

But til then…egeszsegedre! At least we have our health.

Report Number Egy

Almost a week into studying abroad and I give in to starting a blog.

This semester, I’m living in Budapest, Hungary as part of a study abroad program called Budapest Semesters in Mathematics, to (among other things) study math, eat food, travel, meet others, talk to them, learn new things, try to make sense of the language, traipse, carouse, enjoy, explore, and experience. I got here on Monday and for about another week I’ll be taking an intensive “survival Hungarian course” at a nearby school to get me through some Hungarian conversation for the rest of the semester (then starts the math). And by intense, they mean intense. But more about that and my first encounters with the city and students later.

Here’s the very first report I sent to my parents (on Monday night) to notify them that I was alive and happy:

Jo estet!

So, my first flight went smoothly. I didn’t sleep a wink, the babies didn’t seem to have an off button, and the curry chicken was more mush than curry, but I got to start about 5 different movies and received 3 hot lavender towels. Positive reviews all around for Jet Airways India. We were a little late, so I was rushing in the Brussels airport, as they shuttle you through their massive chocolate store/food market extraordinaire before getting you to the gates. My gate was then changed three times in the next 20 min, so I got plenty of walking in before I checked into my flight. At my real gate, I realized I had misplaced my baggage receipt (looking back on it, I think I was much more occupied with the passport, the forints, the cell phone, the laptop, the boarding pass, my sanity rather than a little luggage sticker), so I was stressed, mostly because the woman checking me in, who was with a Strousberg flight boarding before mine and seemed just as tired of in-transiters as I was of being in-transit, was berating me and telling me to keep searching for the receipt (which was least helpful). Luckily, once Strousberg boarded, she left, so I took a deep breath and approached the Malev woman, who was WONDERFUL! When Grandma was praising Malev, she was right. The woman had me wait some more, but said she’d personally make sure my luggage was on board. She left, answered a call, asked me, “you have 2 bags?”, then gave me the thumbs up and a smile. An international symbol of good fortune, huzzah! The plane was practically empty, but I got a sandwich and took off around 11:40, 2 hours late, and eavesdropped on my first full conversations in Hungarian. What a language.

And when I arrived, right there was a woman (Ticia?) with a board reading “Leah Boylan”, such a welcome sign.  She whisked me into a taxi in which the driver was texting while shifting in a standard and occasionally catching the steering wheel and we made it to the apartment in one piece (kind of). Anyway, it’s in the most convenient location, about a block from school. I live on the second floor in a building centered around a little garden (with a balcony looking over it!).

After showing me the place, Anna, the woman in charge of our lives, gave me a walking tour of the area, and once we made it past the school she said, “you can find your way back, right?” and allowed me to fend for myself, which definitely helped solidify my understanding of the area.

Otherwise…my roommate’s name is Brittany and she lives in Vermont/goes to St. Michael’s. We commiserated on past roommate troubles and got all the awkward important issues out of the way first–then went to the grocery store to fumble our way through buying bread, jam which turned out to be made of apples, what we thought was peanut butter but was more like nutella, what we thought was yogurt but was butter, juice, pretzels, and a bottle of red wine (all in all about 2000 fts, split between us both–little more than 10 dollars!?!?). Then we ate some of that along with the snacks BSM left us, and talked about our respective math deparmtents. After dinner we met her friend from a past REU, in this same program.

Tomorrow we try walking to the Babilon school (for intensive language classes) to see whether it’s a feasible trek for the next few weeks. On the way we’ll also find a bank to exchange our 200 ft bills, I’ll “top up” my cell phone, and we’ll find some sort of fruit vendor. 

I haven’t met my landlady, but she seems nice and even allowed us to wait to pay rent. Hopefully I’ll get in touch with her ASAP about my bed, because two of the posts it’s resting on are most of the way unhitched, so it, er, normally collapses when I sit on it. Currently, it’s resting on 2 stacks of books. This apartment, I think, has housed many a BSM-er; there are shelves and shelves of donated dictionaries, hostel guides, maps, wine lists…works for me, as long as I have somewhere to sleep.

I am safe and tired and pleased, and I hope all is well with the rest of them. Will send pictures as they come. Love, Leah