Back to Budapest

This entry took me one and a half years to finish...

Before, 5 years of travelling. 5 years in different cities, different places, different countries. Mostly in Spain. Sometimes I was back in this city but always with the feeling of being a transitory visitor, a wandering breeze that comes and goes quickly. Nothing to think about, nothing to change, nothing to flow in. No point to interfere or start something because my way is surely going to take me far away again.

So why am I here? What has changed?

Maybe nothing. I still feel that I am a traveller spending some time in this city. I still feel transitoriness, I still feel that I am going to leave this city behind again and go where my calling takes me. However, my calling took me here last year. It put me down in this place and didn't let me go so far.

In the middle of July two years ago I already had the feeling that I want to be anywhere else but Budapest. Without any fixed idea however, I decided to go with the flow, and in 24 hours I found myself here again, having a place to sleep and a job to do without ever searching for any of it. Looks like it was not just me missing this crazy city, looks like this city was missing me as well. Hugging me with all her might, calling me for taking long walks and seeing its face changed and the same at once.

During that summer, I spent hours and hours walking on the streets of Budapest, searching for lost memories as well as signs of changes. And I have found both in abundance. How many spots on the riverside where I stood or sat years ago dreaming about long journeys, seeing the world through my own eyes. How many benches and corners where I was waiting for long lost loves. Sometimes they came, sometimes they din't. How much it mattered then. How insignificant these stories have become since.

I planned to stay until September, the latest. I stayed until December and left again, back to the eternal Summerland of the Canary Islands with a very light backpack and a very heavy heart. Then spring and a friend took me to London. To start a new city life there.
Well, London has chewed me up and spat me out in no time. I never felt so lost and insignificant then there, wandering around aimlessly in a completely poisoned environment. Two weeks was more than enough of that experience for a while. I came back to Hungary again. And, since last September, I have been living in Budapest again. For half a year now.

It took me so much time to put up with the fact that I lived in Budapest again. It is a strange feeling -- that I have to put up with it. I am offered so many things by this city: friends, music and culture. Places to live and money to earn and dances to dance and workshops to learn from. A mission to do and a sense of belonging. But also a sense of always being on the wrong side of things. And hiding and having to prove myself. Hiding behind words and concepts, proving myself through acts and work and organizing and writing and doing. In Spain being who I am was enough. Here, it never is. Here I am completely at home without ever really feeling at home.

But since I ended up here, I want to be a chronicler of this place again. Of showing a side of this city that may not be known to strangers and not appreciated by her residents. Budapest, seen through eyes that intimately know and love but still feel different and an outsider. Inside and outside, as before.

Can you imagine harmony between nature and the city?

I can.
I would love to live in  a city where this would be the rule instead of the exception:

These pictures were shot in Old Buda, close to Flórián shopping centre

On BKV

Last week I was travelling by tram in a remote outskirts of Pesterzsébet. It was tram no 52 I wonder how many people living in Budapest knows it. Suddenly I was struck by a certain sense of atmosphere that belongs only to Budapest public transport, just as a certain, and very definite atmosphere belonged to the tram rides in Prague or in Wroclaw. Probably it is true for every city in the world – that is those who has a functioning public transport system. I was moving in a completely unknown part of Budapest, in between nondescript one-storey buildings on a street without name in my head at least – and I felt very much at home.

I wonder whether this could have happened if the tram is not an old Ganz tram but one of the relatively newly bought German cars. I doubt it. Funnily enough, I have found that these type of trams are not supposed to be running any more. Who knows, I might have had a ghost experience.

Source: Villamosok.hu

For me, these trams belong to Budapest. Even now, as I'm writing this, I can feel the smell of some chemical, probably used for maintenance, that I felt so many times on tram 49. I can feel the hard bumps tram 19 produces, while you must sit on the wooden seats. I can hear the terrible squeaking noise it makes while descending into the underworld of the tunnel under Chain Bridge.

Source: Wikipedia

Have you ever travelled by these trams? Or No. 21 or 42 or 47? They run to obscure places in the outskirts of the city, where tourists have nothing to do. This is the hidden side of Budapest not known to even those who live and work in the inner city. In a way, I think, these parts belong much more to Budapest than the iconic images of the Parliament and the Chain Bridge and the Buda Castle.

I love to travel on these lines, and not just trams. Every spring I plan to try out all these unknown buses and trams. I remember once we went with a friend all along the route of trolley 74, this most typical vehicle of Budapest. We had nothing to do there, we only wanted to check what kind of place Csáktornya park is. It had a vague taste of romantic castles ('Csáktornya' = the tower of Csák) and nice walkways in parks. But it was only a little bit disappointing to learn that it is actually a big socialist-era housing estate with ugly blocks of flats. The weather was very cold and it was snowing, so we had a coffee in a small pub near the trolley station and went back. Still, I think it was worth going – I still remember where that route ends.

Forrás: Veledutaztam

However, most of the time this plan stay what it is – just a plan. I usually try new lines only when I'm forced to do so. This spring, since I moved to Pesterzsébet, I have discovered whole new numbers that so far I haven't associated with public transport at all. Tram No. 52 is one of them. Bus No. 148 is another. And buses No. 212 and 36 and tram No. 21. I love how the trams meander between small houses. It gives me a thrill when the bus I'm riding, and which crosses the inner parts of the city on a strange route, suddenly turns onto a street I probably have never seen before.

And then I realize that I will never know this city completely. There is always something new to learn and to explore. And it's a good thing to feel.

Demonstration tomorrow

There is going to be a demonstration tomorrow, commemorating the victims of the recent catastrophes in Japan. It starts at 20:30 in Kossuth tér. Beside comemmorating the victims and showing their sympathy for the survivors, the organizers also want to call the public attention onto the dangers of using nuclear energy, especially in comparison with renewable energy sources.

Go and light a candle if you can.

(The picture is from here)

Finally

I must admit that I haven’t spent much time with this blog lately. The main reason was that I needed time to get rid of all the parts of my life that was obsolete, and to make place for the new. And find a new place for myself, too. This is what has happened, finally, just 4 days ago, when I moved to my new place. It is a big change in every sense: after 10 years, I’m back in the world of rented rooms, shared kitchens and the excitement every month if I can pay the rent.

Funny that I don’t feel it as bad as that may sound. Yesterday, an old friend of mine has just appeared out of nowhere, at least with her blog. She has just moved to Australia, and she wrote this:

It really does exist after all. I don’t know what I’m feeling.  I feel like those colourful little bouncy balls in that Sony Bravia commercial, happily bouncing down the street of San Francisco.

Well, I feel a little bit similar. Except that it is not SF, not even Sydney, Australia, but the good old bitch Budapest. And I don’t know where the bouncing will end. The last half year saw many of my old plans and projects going down the drain. My marriage, for one. My plans to go and perform on Cyprus for the summer. My „unshakable” belief that I found the people and the community where I belong. Okay, the last one may still be true.

However, so many things are over now, and I feel that I’m ready to say good-bye to them. Welcome change. Welcome Pesterzsébet.

(The picture is from here)

On the one hand, I feel that I compromised one of my basic convictions when I moved back to the Pest side of the Danube. On the other hand, I feel that even this is better than stay inthe same old, comfortable nothing where I spent the last half year, or more. It’s a funny coincidence that now I live in almost the same block of flats where 12 years ago two of the most important people of my life had lived. They lived here only half a year after we met, but one of the most intense half years of my life. Who knows what comes now.

This morning I woke up that the Sun was shining into my face through the window. Something that could not happen in any of my homes for years.

Celebrating that Europe is Mine, Saturday night

Avoid going to concerts at the Fogadó if you can.

Okay, this sentence may be a bit too forbidding, so I modify it a little bit: you may go there if you don't mind huge crowds and a terrible sound system, and you are okay with either having to sit through a Palya Bea concert or standing at the fringe of the crowd where you do not see anything. I may not be right about the sound system – it may be the just shape of the room. I am not a music expert – to be honest, I strive only for the 'conscious consumer' label in this field – but my experiences suggest that huge, rectangle-shaped rooms with very high ceiling are the worst places for listening to loud music. But it does not change the essential point.

Palya Bea definitely had a good time last Saturday, and she sings beautifully, but I mostly know it from her Youtube videos and not from this concert. I understood the text only when I knew the song and even then it was not easy. And I really feel sorry, but I left Rotfront in the middle of the concert, because I realised that if I had not known them before (I didn't), I would not learn how good or bad they are now. It took me three songs just to decide what language they were singing. But so many people liked them and came to their concert, they may worth a second try.

The only sad thing about what I have to say is that generally I like Millenáris: they have very good programs, I love the big open park, and the whole event was free – that explains the crowd. But I can't help saying that it was not a good experience at all.

Winter Solstice

The year is coming close to its end. All real, warm colours have disappeared, except the yellow of willow branches and the dry brownish of the reed. 

I made this pictures just on the day of Winter Solstice, when all life seemed to stop, frozen hard. Except the continual buzzing and rushing sounds of the city around this small park, because we, humans never seem to be able to stop for a second.

I guess the scene looks pretty much the same now. But I feel so much fresher. Knowing that days got longer and longer, even if I don't feel it yet, helps. Christmas, the traditional minefield of a typical Hungarian family, being over without any big quarrels helps, too. But consciously inviting the new forces into my life and work on them helps the most.

While I watched these pictures, I could clearly revoke how I felt just a couple of days ago. Tomorrow I should go down again and check, if the difference is really in the eye of the beholder. And because lately, and sadly, this park became my only connection to Nature. And also to go and feed these poor buggers:

Who, by the way, seemed to have much better time than I did, even though spending half their day in icy water, the other on ice. 

A Fellow Citizen

Okay, first of all I must admit that these pictures are not shot by me. My (sort of ex) husband took them today, on his walk in the Castle District.

He found this particular resident of Budapest just beside the south gate of the Castle. For those of you who might not know Budapest, this is the very historic inner city of the town. In the late-autumn afternoon sunshine s/he was sniffing and hunting around, not bothered even by being photographed several times.

I simply love the thought that we share the city with fellows like her/him. I strongly support their further immigration. More hedgehogs to Budapest! Let's create hedgehog-friendly parks and gardens and let's learn to live together with them as they have obviously learnt how to live together with us.

And we don't even have to stop at hedgehogs.

Completely off-topic: my holiday cactus

This post is not about Budapest. This post is about a being I share flat with for almost two years now: a holiday cactus I would not even call this plant an “urban nature” being. My cactus is as much civilized as I am, and as weird and eccentric, too. Maybe it is because it is also a native alien here, in Hungary. As I learned here, holiday cacti originally came from the Brazilian mountain forests, but many of their present species were bred in England. And now, one of them took root in this city and lives in my home for almost two years now.
When it first arrived, there was two or three beautiful flowers on it, and lots of small buds. But none of them flowered – they simply fell off dry. We tried to find out where the cactus feels all right. First, it was in the living room desk, but I read somewhere that it does not like warm climate, so it was moved to the kitchen table. But there we lifted its pot a couple of times a day, basically every time we opened the window. Then we were told that this cactus is very much sensitive to the smallest amount of moving. So we let it rest on the top of the fridge. After all, it is a forest plant, it does not need so much light.

For more than a year nothing happened to it. No signs of illness or wellness, just existing. A bunch of green stuff in the corner. Then in the late spring we decided to put it out to the windowsill. There was everything this cactus does not like: light, warm weather and oen more moving of its pot. Well, this cactus definitely did not know how it should behave. It started to grow aggressively, then the first two or three small flowers opened on it– in the middle of June. It may have happened because it is my cactus truly: happy and blooming when everyone around is dying from hotness.

And now, back in its old place because of fear of frost, and it blooms and blooms and blooms. Almost at the right time, now.

Halloween at Cökxpon

The last night of October is the end of the year in the traditional Pagan calendar. This is the night of feeling the connections with one's ancestors and dead beloveds, as well as letting go of those fruits of the passing year that we do not need any more. So I spent Sunday afternoon in the forest, literally burying things from my past. But my evening was not about silent contemplation but about something entirely different.

With the veil between this world and the other being thin, there are not only our loved ones that can get through, but all kinds of negative thoughts and entities as well. Demons if you like, otherworldly creatures of darkness, or simply the gloomy thoughts of inevitable death. Halloween is traditionally about frightening all those demons and negative thoughts away, by mimicking them and disguising ourselves as vampires, zombies, witches or other creatures of the night, and by making huge noise and revelry. Well, the Psychedelic Halloween Party at Cökxpon Café Theatre certainly did both.

When I arrived at half past 9, the atmosphere of the place resembled more to a nondescript chill-out evening, although I had to admit that the new design of the place is quite nice. The Man O'Mantra concert started around half past 10, and by then, otherworldly creatures started to infest the place. When the Cayetana started to play, quite a number of zombies and dark angels could be seen among the average concert-going audience. And after the concerts creatures of the darkness completely took over the whole place. My dark-witch-self enjoyed immensely discovering that the well- (or sometimes not-so-well) known faces are turned into Constantinos the Demon Hunter, or the Tree With Eyes. I spotted an executioner with excellent dancing skills, and an Islamic terrorist on his day off as well. They were all a nice company on the dancefloor. Okay, I must accept that at one point I was contemplating to turn all of them into newts, but I realised that I don't want to be surrounded by all those reptiles, so I decided not to do any mischief.

The zombies fell first, probably they have not eaten enough brain to keep them all night. But the DJs made quite a big noise so that no demon could get even close to Cökxpon and we could dance without trouble until the first morning of the Pagan new year.

Traces of forgotten stories

As I wrote before, a city is not simply a physical place or a collection of buildings. A city is a multilayered entity where ever-important events of history intermingle with its residents' everyday life for centuries. Sometimes these events leave their trace behind for us. To remember, to forget or to wonder about.

What were the things these clips and cords tried to keep here? Who put them there, when and why?

Most probably I'll never know the story behind these stuff. Still, it reminds me that this city is filled with millions of stories. My Budapest is full of my personal history, but there are millions of Budapests coexisting with it at the same place and the same time. These clips and cords offered me a glimpse of a Budapest almost completely different from mine, yet as much real and true.

Like yours, too.

Urban Nature 2

Moss growing on the steps by the Danube

The holiest river in danger

“What is the holiest river in the world? Some might say the Ganges in India. Others would propose the Jordan River or the River Nile. But I say the holiest river is the one that's closest to where you are right now.” Rob Brezsny

My holiest river is the Danube.

Thanks to our society's hunger for alumina, the extreme amount of rain we had and the mind-boggling uninterestedness, irresponsibility and greed or incompetency of the main representatives of the company, the river is in grave danger now. Last week's red sludge spill is reported to have been neutralised before it reached the Danube. But who can say that there will not be a second disaster at the same place?

Shall the Danube look the same as River Marcal does now?

 (the picture is from here)

The complete flora and fauna of Marcal are officially declared as dead. I repeat: complete flora and fauna. Dead. Not an animal, not a plant, nothing remained alive. Is this what is awaiting for the Danube as well? I don't know, I can just hope that it cannot happen.

What about us, living in Budapest, getting our tapwater from the Danube? Or what about those people whose sacred river was Marcal?  And what about those people, whose house, garden , pasture and arables are now covered by the highly toxic and radioactive red sludge? What will they do? How can they “stand up again” and live on in their poisoned home?

If you can, please, help them!

You can send money throught the following institutions:

the county magazine “Napló”: OTP Bank 11748007-20097158, in the memo line, please write “adomány”

Hungarian Interchurch Aid, see their website

Hungarian Maltese Charity Service: OTP Bank 11784009-20200673 memo line: “iszapkárosultak”

Hungarian Reformed Church Aid: CIB Bank 10702019-85008889-51100005 memo line: “iszapkárosultak”

Or you can call number 1752 (costumers of Magyar Telekom, Invitel or T-Mobile), one call costs 250 Ft.

What about your sacred river? Brezsny says:

“Go to that river and commune with it. Throw a small treasure into it as an offering. Next, find a holy sidewalk to walk on, praise the holiness in a bus driver, kiss a holy tree, and shop at a holy store.”

Back home

I just arrived back home from the Balkan Rainbow Gathering, that took place among the beautiful mountains of Macedonia,

And look what was awaiting for me just around the corner, in my favourite park.

It seems that, at least now, this is true for me everywhere:

Urban Nature

Have you ever thought about the connection between Nature and the city?

It is traditional, almost obligatory to regard the urban environment as opposed to nature, like the countryside or a forest. And it seems a logical one. After all, cityscape is man-made, while outside it we find wild, untamed growth of life, don't we?

In my opinion, the picture is much more complicated. Untouched natural landscape is something that probably exists somewhere in South-American rainforests or in the Himalayan mountains. Maybe in some highly protected areas in Europe. In Hungary, there is no such thing. We, humans are present here for thousands of years, and we have not left anything untouched. All our landscapes now are the results of excessive human activity, even if at some places this activity means we are trying to restore the way things were one or two hundred years ago.

On the other hand, Nature is present almost everywhere in the city. Okay, let's forget about shopping malls and underground parking lots. Apart from those, every square centimetre of earth, every crack in the pavement is a possibility for plants and animals to set their foot here. It is a source of relief for me that we cannot finally destroy life on this planet. As soon as we stop destroying animal and plant life, they are back again to sprout and grow. And if let be, the process is up to this:

(picture found here)

All right, I accept that these pictures give a rather bleak suggestion about our future. But does it have to be so? I could imagine a city that is in symbiosis with Nature. I would be happy to live there. So I just collect those examples where, instead of plucking and clearing, we should try to find a way of coexistence.

A lamppost in Nature's hug:

Welcome on board

Welcome to everyone on my new blog, Budapest From Inside and Outside. This blog is about Budapest, my Budapest, the city where I was born and where I have been living most of my life. We are in a special love-hate relationship, at least from my part. There are days when I feel gratitude that I can live in a city so full of amazing sights and great people. And there are other days when I feel like I want to scream, close my eyes, plug my nose and never set foot on its pavements again. Me and Budapest – a couple together for a long time, who are driven crazy by the other's whims and caprices but cannot imagine being perpetually separated. No matter how much I wanted to leave the city, and how many times I tried, I always ended up here, enamoured and full of frustration again.

As a teenager, I loved to stroll through the labyrinth of uniform streets on the Pest side, watching the buildings and finding funny institutes and companies hidden in them. Later, with a friend of mine, had excursions on the outskirts, sometimes on the very boundaries of the city, and met surprising symbiosis with nature: would you have imagined that rabbits and deer lived about 15 minutes walk from the Soroksár shopping malls? Nowadays I find public sculptures and memorial plaques more and more interesting. (Beside trees, of course, my all-time favourites.) After all, this is what makes a place a city: not the streets and the buildings but the layers upon layers of accumulated history.

And why in English? Well, I feel that 6 years of intensive study of English language, literature and culture radically changed my worldview. Or rather, I found a way of seeing the world and expressing what I see that matches my personality much more than my native culture. Of course, I am Hungarian, my mother tongue is Hungarian, and the characteristics of my home culture are graven in the founding structure of my inner personality indelibly. Not that I would like to get rid of it. At least, not anymore. I accepted this as I accepted my English-speaking personality, mistakes and all. And the fact that I'll be forever a half-foreigner in my hometown. Being at home and an alien in Budapest. I'm standing inside and outside at the same time, understanding and not understanding what I see and hear and experience here. Translating from one language to another, from one culture to another is impossible without understanding. So, this blog is partly an experiment to translate my experiences and make better sense of Budapest. For myself.

But beside being a personal experiment, this blog also aims to be useful for others. I try to introduce my city to foreigners living here. To show it from a perspective that is unique such as every perspective is unique. I hope many people will join me in my years-long tourist trip in my native city. Welcome and enjoy your stay here.