8 January 2013

Once upon a time in Hungary. Dry and sad.

Since we all agreed, that no one reads this blog anyway, the pressure to keep things in chronological order went down radically. I have to admit, that I was often cheating on calendar and putting posts in the right order just to keep the frequency of posts more or less even. But I don't care anymore.

Hungary I visited in the last days of August. I was still burned with Balkan sun but for couple of weeks I get a bit moisturized with humid North-German air and a lot of tears cried in the sake of one of my relationships in rearrangement phase.

I went to do some work, I was sure I will never fall in love again (or even back again) and determined. And of course ready to face all the scary stories about ugly, unfriendly, close minded, boring, exhausting Hungary.

And guess what. It is exactly like this: ugly, unfriendly, close minded, boring, exhausting. Not only the coincidences, I was there in, seeing animal abuse of one of the worst kinds in front of my eyes. Not only the annoying language, which makes me feel like I'd never like to learn it (which is pretty rare for me, I usually fall in love with every new language I meet and dream then for weeks about learning it, only to come back to learning German grammar, humiliated).
Not even the mood of "national pride" which you can feel on every corner, every newspaper, radio news, or even local specialties shop; the most disgusting type of nationalism, the one that grew so deep into the society, that is not even an issue anymore (I couldn't believe to hear about "the final solution of the Roma question" in the radio news, when I got it translated).
Not the ugly, dry, messy and unbelievable primitive rural landscape, boring Austro-Hungarian towns (including Budapest with a bit of post-soviet flow).
And at least, not the unfriendly people, not paying attention to anything, chaotic and somehow absent, even when it comes to their own businesses.
Or, actually, all of those things together. I may be prejudiced, I don't like from definition an atmosphere of national meat eating with a mission from the catholic god if you know what I mean. And I believe there are probably a lot of lovely places and wonderful people in Hungary. I'm just pretty sure, that I'm not going to look for them.
Last year in Hungary there was a drought, a real natural disaster which destroyed huge amount of crops and threatened the food industry. I saw it, creepy, endless fields of dead corn and sunflowers.
Maybe a catholic god got a little revenge upon all the nationalist to keep them busy with food crisis and pull them away from the "Roma question" for a moment.











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