Tuesday, March 24, 2015

(NOT THAT) LOST IN TRANSLATION


When I arrived in Budapest, I knew very little about the city or about the Magyar people; everything was new, everything was there to discover. I have lived my whole life in Paris or its suburbs, so it was my only reference for comparison. I find this important to be precise about where I come from, because my culture has some influence upon how I perceived the Magyar people in Budapest. Again, I would like to point out that my notes are to be read while always keeping in mind that Budapest is the frame for my observations. I realize that all of them might not be true outside this frame. Now that I have established these few parameters, let's dive into the thoughts of a young student arriving for the first time of her life in Budapest, Hungary.


It's September, the weather is still warm, I have bare arms and the Duna looks silver with all these rays of sun melting upon it. I am having a walk in the Pest side, my new home, I am free to go wherever I want; the public transport can carry me quickly and effortlessly. The only problem is that I have no money and here controllers tickets are always on the lookout: impossible for me to cheat, like so many people do in the Parisian subways. I could simply go to an OTP bank, their green front scatter the boulevards, the “korut”, but I am still confused with the Hungarian currency, the forint. Even though Hungary is part of the European Union, the euro is not used here.
I choose to follow the path of tram 4 and 6, the line around the city centre that joins Buda and Pest. I am now in the heart of the city. While I'm admiring the Art Nouveau buildings, so characteristic of the city, my phone starts ringing. It's my mother calling me to make sure everything is okay, and just as I am about to reassure her, an ambulance passes by me its siren howling, covering every other sound. I am used to the roaring of capital cities, but here the ambulances are particularly loud.
My conversation interrupted, I realize that I am hungry. I ate not that long ago, but the more I see people eating slices of pizza the more hungry I become. I could easily buy one for myself; pizza slices are sold everywhere for less than one euro, most of the time in shops open twenty-four-hours a day . That probably explains why even in the morning, Budapest inhabitants are eating them. The access to cheap healthy food appears indeed complicated. In every corner, a fast- food restaurant seems to pop out and most of them also offer non-stop service. Budapest is a night-life city, and you can find at any hour food, alcohol and cigarettes.
Talking about cigarettes, this reminds me that I have to buy some. One thing that really reminds me of Paris are all the smokers standing in front of the bars and restaurants. Even if I am under the impression that a large part of the population smokes, smoking is banned in all public spaces. However, unlike Paris, Budapest provides garbage cans with ashtrays, it is by the way on clean streets that I am walking right now and it is so nice to be in a relatively clean city for once.
Now that I have buy and smoked my cigarette, as usual I am thinking about what my grand-mother always says when she sees me smoking: “You need to quit before your teeth start turning yellow !”. But as I look around me, I notice that a sign keeps showing up. The sign of a tooth. Dentists seem to be a common profession for Magyar people. Apparently, “dental tourism” is very developed in Hungary. My grand-mother can be reassured, I am in the right place if I ever want to have my teeth whitened.
But I am too distracted with my own thoughts. I need to focus. In Budapest a slight moment of inattention and you could end up run over by a tram, a bus or a trolley. Drivers are also ruthless, they drive fast and it is a big mistake to think they are going to slow down for pedestrians. And why should they not drive fast ? Pest is crossed by wide streets and avenues (the most famous being Andrassy ùt, a World Heritage Site) turning the city into a playground for drivers. I wonder if it is why pedestrians behave so well ? I am always amazed by those people patiently waiting for the traffic light to turn red, even when no cars are in sight ! Parisians are not that careful, and I need to control my urges to cross even when it's not my turn.
So here I am. Waiting calmly and serenely for the pedestrian sign to turn green. And with these few minutes of wait, I can properly observe the people on the other side of the zebra crossing. Especially this couple, showing their affection for each other in a very... effusive way. It seems that kissing and hugging in public is not a problem at all for Hungarian couples. But if straight couples do not hesitate to show their love, it does not look like it is the same for same-sex couples. Unfortunately, since I am here, I have not feel a gay-friendly vibe from Budapest. As far as I know, there is no neighbourhood known for its openness towards the gay community, as there are in other big cities. But I have to leave there my thoughts: it is finally time to cross and people are rushing.
I am getting tired of walking and suddenly decide to hop on a tram. It is a rush hour and I am preparing myself for the “let-me-go-in-first” battle. But at my bewilderment it does not happen. Here you actually wait for people to get off the tram before going in. It is the same with doors, a Magyar citizen will always hold it for you. But no matter how polite they are, once inside the tram it is the same dull and sticky atmosphere, common of every public transport. I am reassured, once in a train, Parisians are not the only one turning into grumpy and irritable beings.
Crushed by the crowd, I decide to go on a quest for a free seat. I spot one on my right and dash for it. But soon, I figure out why this seat was left free. Across from me, a homeless man is sleeping on his seat and, as usual in these cases, people try to avoid him. Seeing him reminds me that I have already saw a lot of homeless people in the streets. Sadly that is one of the “Budapestian” aspects similar to Paris.
A bit downcast by these signs of obvious poverty in a fully developed area like Europe, I finally put an end to my wander and decide to go back home. I soon realize that I took the tram in the wrong direction and that I am now completely lost ! I guess that seeing the panic on my face, a woman in her forties comes to me, and asks in English if I need any help. We begin to have a chat; and she seems very interested to know where I come from, why am I here and why did I choose Budapest as an Erasmus destination. And she's not the first one to ask me these kind of questions, Hungarians are -most of the time- really curious towards foreigners. They are mostly interested in the reasons that made me came here, as if they did not truly understand why someone would deliberately move in Hungary.
Thanks to this nice lady I know my way back; and as I am walking along Margrit hid, the sky turns suddenly pink and the silhouette of the Castle gets darker. The view is amazing and for a moment I just get carry away by it and forget everything. It may not be Paris, but it is where I want to be.



Since this day of September, I had the chance to get to know Budapest better, as well as other cities of Hungary. I know its flaws but also its (many) qualities. And if the Hungarians that I have met still appear a bit puzzled by my choice of moving here, I am certainly glad that I did. If Budapest still carries a lot of resemblances with other Europeans capital cities, the Magyar culture brings its unique touch. And if it is obvious that Hungary is struggling with political issues right now, I am very curious to see what will become of it in the future.  

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