Tuesday, July 10, 2012

A Sunday in Slovakia

I woke up early Sunday morning to visit lovely Bratislava. Luckily, I arrived early because it took quite a while to get my ticket.  I got on the train just a few minutes before its mechanics rumbled, and it headed West. I read and watched the lovely views of sunflower fields and small towns.  I was also mentally preparing myself for my challenge of the day.  I had 4,20 leftover from previous travels and I was determined not to withdraw any more money just for a day trip.  I had packed lunch and dinner in preparation for my task.


I set the camera timer, and tried to jump
at the right time; I think I did pretty well.
Also, note my lunch/dinner.
Concert time!




Once I arrived, I took the bus to the city center (€0,70 down).  I saw Grassalkovich Palace and some of the rebuilt city center before heading to the historical center.  I wandered for a while until I found an info center with a map of Bratislava.  I really enjoyed the old sites, and enjoyed my lunch in the city square.  When I walked through the Primate's Palace (don't ask), I noticed that there was a free symphony concert later in the afternoon. Count me in!   The symphony was a college-age group from Poland, who were quite impressive.  When friends of mine go on choir and orchestra tours through Europe, I often wonder who goes to their shows, but apparently it's people like me. I ventured to the public restroom, and refilled my water bottle (0,30) before exploring more of the Old Town.   


View of St. Martin's Cathedral from Bratislava Castle




While near St. Michael's gate, there was a foreign tour guide explaining the history to some tourists.  An angry Slovakian tour guide who was giving a tour to a bunch of Americans started shouting that he wasn't even Slovakian, and that he shouldn't be giving those people a tour.  It was uncomfortable for everyone involved.  While Americans-- like any other group-- have our fair share of subtle racism, few Americans react well to outright racism.  After that event, her guidelings followed her more reluctantly.  


UFO Bridge
Slavin Memorial
 I walked along the Danube, and marveled at the incredibly bizarre UFO Bridge.  It's technically called the "New Bridge," but the guidebooks and my map called it the UFO Bridge, which is a much more fitting name.  I walked under the bridge where there was some really neat graffiti before walking past the lovely St. Martin's Cathedral to Bratislava Castle. Overall, the castle was underwhelming, but the view from it was quite nice.  I, then, took what felt like an insanely long walk to the Slavin monument.  It was an interesting and beautiful monument, and the views were incredible.  After that, I walked back down the hill and took the bus back to the train station (0,70).  The train was delayed half an hour, and as I saw the exhausted, hungry, war-worn backpackers, I felt no nostalgia.  It must have been more glamorous at the time.  I had a relaxing ride back to Budapest where I was glad that I had a bed with my name on it.  


Back in Budapest!

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Zumba Pajama Parties and Pride Protesters

Life in Budapest is going swimmingly as ever despite the sweltering temperatures.  Last weekend, I went to the House of Terror.  Though it sounds like a haunted mansion, it was instead, a museum. Fortunately, I knew that before going.  It is a memorial to the victims of the fascist and communist regimes of Hungary.  I had heard excellent things about the museum from peers and guidebooks, so my expectations were high.  The museum was sometimes touching, sad, and scary, but my overall impression was quite negative. Throughout the House of Terror, there was strangely dim lighting, harsh colors of red and black, and horror movie style music. It was as though the designers and planners of the museum were manipulating the visitors. The events which occurred were tragic and alarming on their own without creating a contrived setting. This was particularly ironic in the hall of propaganda. Despite the historical significance and fascinating aspects of the House of Terror, I left with a bad taste in my mouth. 

The next day, I walked around Heroes' Square and the city park.  Early in the week, my shower broke, which certainly brought some excitement into my life. Luckily a plumber-- with whom I could not communicate-- came the next day and fixed it.  Speaking of bathrooms (worst transition ever, I know), let us move onto our second edition of:

Things Amy thinks are bizarre about Hungary:

8) Perfumed toilet paper and only perfumed toilet paper.  I understand that some people must prefer it, but there should be an unscented option, no?

9) Popped collars on normal people.  I know that there are some people in the US who pop their collars, but it is almost entirely constrained to a specific age and social group.  In Budapest, men of all ages and types seem to find popping their collars as if it were a reasonable fashion.

10) Speaking of fashion, women seem to always be wearing tights. Sometimes with patterns, sometimes beige, but just always. With skirts, shorts, capris, sandals, flats... always.  

11) Also, smoking. all the time. everywhere.  I know it's a European thing, but why? In Budapest, someone smoking is the norm.  The outliers are us crazy tobacco-free people. I thought that it wouldn't be as much of a problem because you aren't allowed to smoke inside, but that just means people are smoking all along the sidewalk.

12) Because I included a laundry-themed point last entry, it only seems fair that I do so again.  Why doesn't Europe believe in dryers?  I understand that they use a lot of energy and will eventually ruin your clothes. Maybe that's it.  But after line drying my laundry for a month-and-a-half , my clothes are noticeably baggier. How do you deal with this? Do you just buy clothes more often? Resign yourself to baggier clothes? (Note: Although most of the questions I ask on this blog are rhetorical, I legitimately want an answer to the baggy clothes question.)

13) Most people who have ever been to Budapest will join me in the next one. The escalators are insanely long. When you step onto one, you cannot see the other end.  Getting on an escalator when you don't know precisely where it leads is a pretty strange feeling.


14) On the topic of public transportation: people talk on their phones in the metro, on the trams, and on the buses. I find it odd enough that they get service in the oldest metro line in mainland Europe. (Note: You know a metro line is old when it has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site.) The fact, though, that people have extended conversations whilst surrounded by commuting strangers is even more surprising.



My Fourth of July in Budapest was a lot of fun.  While at work, I listened to uber-Patriotic GO AMERICA music, and even shared some with my colleagues. I also made a few the USA beat the UK jokes at the expense of my British boss. I have been going to zumba on Wednesday nights with a Hungarian friend Sophia, and tonight was themed.  I didn't quite understand what was happening when they told us that it was going to be a "slumber party." I was told to bring pajamas, so I obediently complied.  It was only when I arrived that I realized we were doing zumba in our pajamas.  Looking back, it seems obvious that that was the case, but it surprised me at the time.  It was fun and bizarre, but something was missing from our workout experience. Luckily, after the second song, they filled the hole.  I know some of you may not have participated in a zumba pajama party, but let me tell you, they are incomplete without dixie cups of sangria being served after every few songs. Happy Independence Day everybody!



On Saturday, I participated in the Budapest Pride parade.  It was inspiring to see gay Hungarians marching together.  Unfortunately, there was a great deal of opposition.  Neo-Nazis dressed in all black with combat boots were shouting fiery things that I'm glad I didn't understand. At one point, they broke through the barrier and dozens of police officers forced them back.  As I watched their angry faces and prejudiced shouts, I was reminded of their homophobic counterparts in the U.S.  I wonder if the cruel American anti-gay advocates know that in Europe, those bigoted epithets they yell are repeated by Neo-Nazis. I wonder how the revelation that they were sharing beliefs with such a violent group would affect their views.  I wonder if it would.  I hope it would.