Full Circle

The jet lag is history; the suitcases are unpacked and put away.  We flew down to North Carolina and spent the weekend at my sister-in-law’s house.  Briggs and Henry were overjoyed to see us, although we weren’t quite sure what kind of reception we would receive.  We sat out on her deck the first evening enjoying the summer air, drinking cold beers, and sharing our stories.  While we were inside, Henry very quietly unpacked my handbag and ate the one piece of chocolate, wrapper and all.  My sister-in-law was so surprised.  Apparently, Henry never did anything like that during the entire 5 months.

We started the drive back, having packed a small cooler with lots of cold water and some snacks.  The a/c in the old Subara is on the fritz, so we had to drive with the windows open.  The weather in the South, from North Carolina all the way to New England was hot and steamy.  We stopped frequently to walk the dogs and give them something to drink…they were panting a lot, partly from the heat, partly from travel anxiety.  Briggs, I think I may have mentioned, has problems with bad teeth and rotten gums, so you cannot imagine the smell he blasted our way.  Let me just say that it was a long trip.  At one point, we had been in the car for several hours and I realized we still had 500 miles to go.  We finally pulled in at 2:45 in the morning.  But we made it; the dogs have settled back into their routines, love their walks on the beach and seem acclimated.

I am having a little more trouble settling back into our life here.  The incessant rain and cloudy skies haven’t helped. I am busy–my graduate course started two weeks ago, I assumed the responsibilities of department chair as of 1 July and I had to move my office–in addition to the normal responsibilities of family, home, garden.

This Fulbright experience in Hungary has left an indelible mark on me.  I find myself thinking of Hungary frequently, missing my cousins, missing my life there.  I also think of the person I was half a year ago and how much my understanding and perceptions of life have widened and deepened.  I knew that the Fulbright would be an incredible experience.  I am really happy that Bernard and I took advantage of as many opportunities as possible to meet Hungarians, to travel within the country, to get to know my family and to come to a better understanding of my heritage and how it has shaped me.

It exceeded my wildest expectations and my fondest hopes.  I know I am incredibly lucky and I thank God for my good fortune.

This blog really started with Henry’s ride, and I think it’s appropriate to say, that with our return trip home, we have come full circle, in more ways than one. I also want to thank you, gentle readers, for your support.  It’s been a pleasure and a privilege to share our experiences with you.  Thanks for tuning in and staying connected.

Farewell and best wishes,

Marcsi

Looking Back

I wanted to do a slide show of some of the other photos that you haven’t seen, but this blog doesn’t have that capability yet.  So, I thought I would share some pictures with you that reflect what I consider to be some of the highlights of our stay in Hungary.  They are not listed in any particular order or ranking…and I think for the most part, the pictures speak for themselves.

Taking the waters at Szechenyi Baths

Cafe life (lunch with Fulbrighters before Gypsies of Nagyida)

Graduation Morning - Eger, Hungary

Inside Parliament - Budapest

Farewell Dinner with my Cousins

Sharing Hungary with my Family

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Marcsi

A Quick Observation

Historic Downtown - Matthews, NC

We flew down to North Carolina last weekend to attend our nephew’s high school graduation and to pick up the dogs.   It was a very nice weekend, but I couldn’t help but notice the large numbers of morbidly obese people…

We drove everywhere…the distances are just too great for walking.

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Margaret

Carbon Footprints

In some ways, it’s been a bit of culture shock being back in the US.  Part of it is because we lived a really pared down existence in Hungary…we had a three-room apartment and we traveled so extensively that we were literally living out of a suitcase (one for the two of us) most of the time.  We learned to live with less.  I wasn’t as hard as you might imagine.

My daughter and I went to the market  to pick up a few groceries.  I was distressed because I forgot my grocery bags. In Debrecen, I would have walked to the piac and B and I would have used our nylon bags that I always kept rolled up inside my purse.  Even when we went to the grocery chains, like Match or Spar, we had to pack our own groceries and use our own bags. If we didn’t have enough room, we had to buy their bags.  Katie and I drove. The Stop-and-Shop provided a woman to pack our groceries, but she used those plastic grocery bags.  For a small order, we ended up with 10 of those bags. It’s not a huge deal, but I really felt distressed about it…a small piece of my European life was already slipping away.

We walked or used mass transportation wherever we went while we were in Europe.  Here we  live in a small town where it becomes a major excursion if you forget to buy milk after a certain hour.  We have to drive everywhere.  I drive a Prius, a green car,  but I drive nonetheless. America is a car-culture. I was sad to hear that one of the bus routes from Little Compton to Providence had been cut because of the budget crisis in Rhode Island.  It seems counter-intuitive to me.  Gas prices are rising again and more people have been  using the public transportation that is available…so what do they cut?  Go figure.

We had a washer, but no dryer, in our apartment in Debrecen.  Although I know that some Hungarians have dryers, the vast majority of the people we talked to only had a washer and hung out their clothes to dry.  The apartments with high ceilings often had a rack suspended from the ceiling and accessible via a rope and pulley system.  It worked really well and you didn’t have your laundry at eye level.  We used a drying rack in the small spare room…you had to plan ahead if you needed clean clothes because you had to allocate enough time for them to dry.  It was a little bit of a pain in the neck, but on the other hand, we weren’t using electricity which saved us and the environment! On the other hand, it is nice having the convenience of a dryer.

In the years before we left for Hungary, Bernard and I had already begun down-sizing.  I find that as I get older, excess really gets on my last nerve.  It wasn’t just giving away or donating things that we no longer needed or wanted, it was also saying no to too many commitments on our time…we really felt, at least I did, that it was important to have time that was unstructured…we really enjoy walking the dogs on the beach, sitting in our yard, getting together with friends and family over a leisurely dinner…taking things a little more slowly.  Despite our best intentions, life would get intolerably hectic.

I have really come to hate those periods of time when you are just surviving until the meetings, or the deadlines, or the tasks are completed…Europeans seem to have a better grasp of taking time to enjoy life a little.  I think that is what the cafe culture is all about.  In most Hungarian cities, for example, stores close around 1p on Saturdays and they are closed, except for some of the large international chains, on Sundays.  Bernard often took issue with this…saying that especially when the economy is so distressed, that stores (particularly those that might cater to tourists) should be open longer hours.  I only half agree with him.  I like the idea of families or young couples going to the baths or taking a walk on a Saturday afternoon….but maybe that’s just me.

Anyway, this is just a long winded way of getting to my point.  I thought I had pared down.  But after returning from Europe, one of the first things that hit me (and it hit me hard) is how much stuff we have. I have to do more purging.

On a positive note, the US is way ahead of Hungary on recycling.  In Debrecen, our apartment building had a separate site for the newspapers, but bottles and plastics all went into the garbage. Since we did a lot of our shopping at the piac, most of our food was not packaged…but, what there was wasn’t easily recycled.  Here in LC, we not only recycle, but we compost.  On the whole, though, one aspect of American life that I can’t help but notice is the wastefulness.  I hope the Obama administration will be successful in its efforts to promote a more green and healthy American economy.

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Marcsi

Jetlag

I think I am getting old.  Although we have been traveling extensively the last few months, the trip home from Ireland nearly did me in. Yesterday was our first day back home.  After traveling nearly 18 hours the day before (plus the 5 hour time difference), I really thought I would be able to sleep.  By 4am local time, I was wide awake and desperately seeking caffeine. So I got up, sorted through emails, watched the day grow lighter…I couldn’t see the sunrise (which is glorious here in Little Compton) because of the cloud cover and intermittent rain.

Bernard and I did the usual things…unpacking, laundry, making lists of things to do, etc.  Not everything went smoothly.  We couldn’t get my car started.  It’s a Prius and the battery is continuously charged as car moves.  Since it’s been sitting for nearly 5 months, it was dead as a door nail.  So, we called AAA, only to discover that in the last minute rush before we left in January, I had overlooked our payment.  Bernard mumbled something about things never being easy or simple.  In the meantime, I double checked on the book order for my summer graduate course, only to find out that my email from Hungary back in April had not gone through.  So I scrambled to get my order in. After a second effort, we did get the car and the battery (both of them) charged and we should be, according to the Toyota service guy, good to go!

This morning I am up again.  My clock is still set on European time, I think.  Still no sunrise…but I am thankful nonetheless.  My friends and family have been gone out of their way to welcome us home.  My friend Jane had our house cleaned and did some grocery shopping for us.  She and my friend Liz prepared soups and stews and baked banana bread and brownies…In the haze of fatigue caused by the jet lag, it is wonderful not to have to worry about what to cook.  Today I will do some shopping and tomorrow I will cook! So thanks to my friends and family who have called to welcome us home…we really appreciate your thoughtfulness and generosity.  It’s great to be back!

This weekend, believe it or not, we have to travel again.  On Saturday afternoon we fly to Charlotte, NC to my sister-in-law’s house…she is the one who has been taking care of the dogs for us.  We will spend Sunday there…it is my nephew’s high school graduation. You may recall Bernard’s nightmarish adventures driving the dogs down last January.   On Monday morning, we will drive back with Henry and Briggs.  As my sister dryly noted, hopefully on the return trip the dogs won’t lock us out of the car!  I figure, it’s two against two…the odds are a little better this time around.

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Marcsi

Siberian Iris

I’m dying to get out and work in my garden…thought you’d enjoy this picture from my backyard.  The fish survived the winter…I think.  The water is still very murky, but I definitely saw one of the orange ones swimming around.

The Beagle

Last year we traveled to London.  I had a grant and was doing research at the National Archives in London as well as a variety of other repositories in Salisbury and Wiltshire.  Between the work and then a little sightseeing on the weekend, it was a pretty jam-packed week.  I didn’t really have the time or the inclination to do any shopping, but I did pick up some Toblerone chocolates for my kids at the Duty-Free shop prior to our departure from Heathrow.

We arrived to Boston and were waiting for our luggage, when what I presume was a DEA agent walked by with a German shepherd.  The dog sniffed all around us, jumped up on some of the luggage nearby, and then moved on.  A few minutes later, another agent walked by, this time with a small beagle.  The dog sniffed, paused, and sat down at my feet, staring up at me with a fixed look.  The agent looked at me suspiciously.  I said, the dog must smell the chocolates in my carry-on bag.  The agent glared at me and said, “Maam, this dog is not trained to sniff for chocolates.”  He asked for our passports and our customs declaration form, scribbled something on it, and walked away.  As a result, Customs insisted on going through all of our luggage, including the dirty laundry.  They started with the large suitcases, my briefcase, and finally opened my carry-on.  Lo and behold, there he saw the Toblerone.  He said, “Oh, you have chocolates.”  I just fumed.

This time, the beagle got me again.  But it happened in Philadelphia, not Boston.  Before we left the hotel in Dublin, I grabbed an orange, intending to eat it before our flight departed.  Well, it took longer than anticipated to check-in, go through customs, security, etc.  I forgot about the orange in my purse.  Bernard reminded me, but I was tired and sleepy, and I promptly forgot again.  You probably know that they have very strict rules about bringing fresh fruits and vegetables into the country…it’s to avoid the Mediterranean fruit fly, mad cow disease, and other biological hazards.

I was standing with all of the luggage, waiting for Bernard who had gone to the restroom, when a woman in some kind of uniform walked by with a beagle.  The dog sniffed the luggage and walked by, then he suddenly reversed, began scrambling, and pulled her back to where I was standing.  He sat down and stared up at me. Busted!  She asked me if I had any fresh fruit in my possession and I had to admit (and surrender) my deviant orange.

Bernard, of course, said I told you so.  I don’t have much to say except that I admire the delicacy, if not the accuracy, of beagles’ sense of smell.  The rest that I would like to say is unprintable.

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Marcsi

PS:  I don’t have a picture, because it is strictly prohibited to take photographs in the Customs and Security areas of the airport.  Most of the time I am a law-abiding citizen.

Erin go Hungaria

High Cross (12th century)

Hungary and Ireland have a lot in common.  They are both countries that have been beat up by history, a long (and often sad) search for freedom and independence.  Both are countries where history is immanent–maybe that’s why I felt so comfortable there.  In the midst of everyday life in Ireland, you find the ruins of centuries old abbeys and castles.  We walked down a small narrow lane lined with incredible stone walls and crossed over into a field. After climbing over the turnstyle, we picked our way through a field of cows (carefully avoiding cow patties) in order to view a High Cross from the 12th century and the ruins of an incredibly beautiful Romanesque stone church, the foundations of which date back even earlier. Among those ancient ruins you can find fresh flowers on the headstones of recent burials. The cows in the neighboring fields are the source of some very excellent yogurt.

Church Doorway at Dysert O'Dea

The Celtic tribes and the Magyar tribes lived together for a few hundred years in the Carpathian basin, before the Celts moved north and eventually ended up in Ireland.  You can see traces of this cohabitation, especially in the traditional music.  We went to hear some fiddlers playing traditional Irish folksongs in a pub in Dublin–you would be amazed to hear the similarities between their tunes and the fiddlers we heard in Eger back in February.  Gaelic and Hungarian are both languages that are difficult for non-native speakers to comprehend, much less learn.

Stopping in Ireland was probably a good idea.  I think it will  help to ease our transition back to life in the States.  Everyone speaks English (well, sort of). The clothing, the shopping, the food…they are all much more similar to what we are used to in the US, and the Irish don’t charge you for a glass of water.  I know this may sound trivial, but I love ice water.  We didn’t see ice cubes for almost 5  months (except once when my friend ordered a Jameison whiskey in a bar in Pecs)!

Yesterday, we arrived home after a bear of a trip that lasted over 18 hours.  We had a two and a half hour layover in Philly before the final flight to Boston. We sat down in a sports bar (8 tv screens on the wall in front of us), ordered a draft (a local brew called Devil’s hop) and split an order of spicy buffalo wings!  People watching was just as excellent as it ever was in Europe!

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Marcsi

Herding Cats

I have always admired tour guides; after traveling together with our family group my esteem for their work has  skyrocketed. Bernard and I took the train to Prague where we met our son, daughter and her friend.  We spent two days taking in the sites, trying out local cuisines, and spending time catching up with one another.  My son Bernie and his girlfriend joined us the following day.  By the time we left Vienna, we were a party of eight, as my niece Margaret (the other Margaret Muranyi) who has been studying in Grenada, Spain for her junior year abroad, also joined us. Traveling with 8 people can be a little challenging…especially when you have specific trains to catch. Even meeting at a given time in the morning to do a little sight-seeing can depend on everyone’s natural biorhythms (if you know what I mean), everyone not getting lost, or remembering exactly where we agreed to meet. It’s not unlike herding cats…but it’s also great fun, if you can keep a sense of humor about it.  At given times, tempers frayed a little, but all in all, we had a blast! We spent a little time touring in Vienna, visiting the Schonbrun Palace, the Kunst Museum, and other sites, before we hopped on a train to Hungary.

As nice as those cities were, it was great to come home to Hungary.  The kids got to see a little of Debrecen, see the university, our apartment, and I think they got a real taste of what our life has been like during the past five months.  Some of my students had invited me for a glass of wine…we all sat in an outdoor cafe on a narrow, cobble-stoned street near the Great Church…the waiter finally asked if he could close his book…it was time to say goodbye. Our  friends all said, “come back!” It was a special pleasure to share Hungary (at least a little bit of it) with my children.

On our first night in Budapest, we scored a great table at an outdoor cafe.  We watched the match between Manchester United and Barcelona on a large-screen t.v.  Margaret, having spent the past year in Spain, naturally rooted for Barcelona.  The rest of us rooted for Man U, of course.

Hungarians for Barcelona

Go Manchester U

There was  only one other table outside…it was full of wild Hungarians rooting for Barcelona. It was a friendly rivalry, but they had air horns, and we didn’t.  Their team won, and ours didn’t.  The pub offered a special menu with English and Spanish specialties, but the beer was Hungarian all the way! Passersby stopped to catch up on the score and cheer … people watching was almost as interesting as the game itself. All in all a memorable night.

My cousin Marian met us up on the Var…the kids got to see the  castle, the Fisherman’s Bastion, and the Citadel.  We ended the day at the Gellert Baths…historic baths in a spectacular hotel decorated in Art Nouveau style.  I hired Andrea, the woman who organized our monthly Debrecen tours, to give us a tour of the Parliament and the Pest side of the city.  She gave a wonderful overview of Hungarian history, architecture, art, and some of the little stories that enriched our experience.  We ended up at the Szechenyi Baths, where we “took the waters” in a thermal spa complex that dates back to the 1880s.  It felt wonderful after hours of walking.  I also booked seats for a Hungarian folklore dance and musical review followed by a dinner cruise on the Danube. Budapest is incredibly beautiful all lit up.  I wanted them to have a real sense of Hungarian culture.

Our party also got a chance to meet my cousins and their families…we had a wonderful dinner at Rita and Bandi’s house…home-made Szeged-stylei fish soup and Hortobagy pancakes.  of course, it was all washed down with copious amounts of Hungarian palinkas, wines, and beer. In the past, I think they had a tendency to view my Hungarian roots as mine alone.  They now realize that these are also their roots, their family, their heritage.  I think they were all a little sad to leave Hungary so soon. My cousins all said, “come back.”

So, here I am writing this blog.  B and I are on a bus from Dublin to Galway, on our way to meet some good friends of ours. We have left Hungary; we have left continental Europe.  We return home to the US in a few days. It’s bittersweet, but then, I realize that I prefer it that way. My friend Annamaria said that she liked the fact that as a historian, I am able to live in both the past and the present.  I think she’s right.

Thanks for tuning in and best regards, Marcsi

Together Again

Today I signed the last student registration book and handed back the last final paper.  My teaching responsibilities in Hungary are officially over!

Yesterday we shipped a box of winter clothes back to the States via Magyar Posta…hopefully we will be able to avoid the excess baggage fees which we incurred on the way over here.  I have returned the bag of extra kitchen ware that Erika Kiss had brought over when we first arrived…hopefully the next Fulbrighter will be able to use some of these when they settle into their new housing.

The suitcases are out…we are trying to distribute the clothes evenly between them. Said some farewells over pizza, beer, and really bad jokes last night.  Tomorrow B and I take the train to Prague where we will rendez-vous with some of our kids.  The rest will join us on Friday, as will my niece who is spending her junior year abroad in Spain.

I missed my daughter Kate’s commencement on Sunday.  But tomorrow we will be together again and we will lift our glasses and celebrate.

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Marcsi

The Long Good-bye

When we arrived in Hungary, it seemed like we had plenty of time. Four and a half months felt  like eons — we  believed it would enable us to explore Hungary and take some side trips, and still leave us time in Debrecen to experience and be part of the everyday life of the University and the city itself, not to mention long weekends with the cousins in Budapest.  In the last few weeks, time has accelerated.  The reunion in Fribourg, which we began planning before we left the US, is now a memory.

This coming Tuesday is my final class in Hungary; that is to say, I meet with my last class one final time to hand back their papers, give them their grades, and sign their registration books.  We will rendez-vous with the kids in Prague, travel with them back to Debrecen and Budapest, and then in two weeks, we depart.  It seems incredible to me. It is time to say good bye.

We already started the process.  We have already had a few “lasts”–the last renewal of the monthly pass for the trams, the last time we had to pay for the cable or fill the phone.  I have already had the final meeting with the students in Miskolc and with one of my classes at Unideb.

My thoughts are already turning to the logistics of getting home….I am making lists.  I wonder about my garden and my little fishes; whether or not we will have to jump my car.  I am already being cc’d on email communications at Providence College so that when I take over as department chair on July 1, I will be iin the loop regarding new policies and procedures.  At one level, my mind is filing these details.  But at another level, I am thinking of leave-taking.

Many of my first cousins are in their seventies.  They are retired and there are no trips to the US being planned.  So I realized that I must begin to say good bye to them, not au revoir.  That is hard and I don’t really want to think about the implications.

Remnants of Barracks at Birkenau

On Saturday  we took a tour of Auschwtitz and Birkenau–which are located about an hour and a half bus ride outside of Krakow, Poland.  It was sobering and defied my ability to imagine. Bernard and I were discussing that despite the fact that we have been to the Holocaust Museums in Washington, DC and in Berlin, and now to two of the concentration camps, we still cannot understand how so many people could commit so much evil against their fellow humans.  We spoke with our tour guide, a Polish woman in her mid-forties, who gave us a wealth of information and background as we walked through first Auschwitz, then Birkenau.  Bernard asked her how she keeps from getting depressed or desensitized after repeatedly doing the tour.  She responded that it was important work — she always reminds  the people in her tours to go home and enjoy their lives…to thank God that they were alive.

So that’s what we are doing…not taking anything for granted and appreciating every last moment.

Thanks for tuning in and best regards,

Marcsi