Dawn and Nicole

Our friend Dawn came to stay with us. She and I went to USF together and she does consultancy work in this region. One of the Fulbrighters wanted to meet her, so we invited Nicole over for dinner. Nice evening! Ron has perfected meatloaf, which may be strange to some, but his is excellent. Leftovers are a breakfast treat for me.

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In the Evening, Ain't We Got Peanut Butter

I am an avid note writer for Frommers.com and especially for Budapest. Loving this city, I have to share my enthusiasm with others and invite them to ask me questions before they visit. With the past riots, I posted the news as I knew it so that those planning on coming were not daunted by the happenings to the point of canceling their trip. There were about thirty e-mails from people far and wide asking me for updates and I was thrilled to be able to soothe their fears. One young woman was amongst the many and wrote a number of times, creating a pen-pal situation. She was a delightful correspondent who had a heart-warming story to share. She was a Desert Storm vet, who had to be in a wheelchair. Budapest is not wheelchair friendly, so I had my doubts about her ability to fully enjoy the city. After a number of e-mails back and forth, she asked me if there was anything I would like from the States. I never refuse peanut butter, but I also include that it is not necessary for my e-mail friendship. Cyndi and her husband Dennis arrived in Budapest and gave me a call. We arranged to meet at their hotel due to her mobility concerns. I went to meet and visit them this evening. I never expect any rewards when I post on travel sites, but when I meet special people such as these two, it renews my faith in the human race. Cyndi shared some of her history as an Army WAC and as a vet. Her stories nearly brought tears to my eyes, but she shared them with such courage, my heart swelled with empathy. Her cheerfulness and willingness to cope with the obstacles of travel with an electric wheelchair are beyond my scope of imagination. Of course, it was obvious to me that she has a fantastic support system in Dennis, her husband. His robust laughter interspersed with the trials and tribulations they have had definitely de-stresses any situation. They are a remarkable couple and I feel honored to have met them both. All good deeds are rewarded at some point, but Cyndi and Dennis gave me immediate gratification with a bag containing four jars of peanut butter. Each and every time my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, I will give a silent "Thank you!" for the gift.

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The Second Coming

Friday morning: We had a guest leaving today, a Peace Corps volunteer in the Ukraine. Wonderful guy and fun to speak with. Ron was cleaning and then went shopping. I had a coffee meet up with a young woman from the U.S. here to do some research. We were meeting at 10:00, but I was home by 11:30. I was doing some cleaning and computer work, neither Ron nor I were paying too much attention to the time and he was still out at the store. At 2:00 with the big hand straight up in the 12 and the little hand assaulting the 2, my mobile rings. It was Gabor to tell me that Istvan the plumber was at our door. As the cliche goes, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Istvan came in and went to work. He said he was going to flood our bathroom. He filled the tub to see if this was the leak. Then he flooded the floor to see if the drain in the middle of the floor was the problem. He was up and down into the neighbor's apartment. He believed that with the quantity of water, the leak should appear almost immediately. Neither one had an effect on the their ceiling. Ron had a brilliant notion to look out of our bathroom window. There is a drain type pipe that starts just below our window and continues down past the neighbor's window. It is rotted in some part. His idea was that the rain water collected in this pipe and leaked into their place. Istvan filled this with water and had a successful epiphany. This seems to be the cause of the problem; he bent the pipe so that rain water could not enter it, thus solving the mystery. The crux of this whole situation is that the pipe does belong to the building, but since we had the work done, it was on us to foot the bill. Three plumbers and one solution for 20,000 Huf. This fries my butt, but at least the situation should be under control and we do not have to deal with nasty SMS's any longer. If this is not it, I am going to blast the people downstairs with the advice that we have done all we are going to do and it is now up to them to pay for diagnostics, something that has not been forthcoming yet.

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Ron's Brainstorm

Ron had a clever idea. Gosh, my vocabulary is becoming so British. He decided we should call the previous owner of the flat. He does after all have a contracting business and therefore should know a plumber. Though the gentlemen in question does not speak English, Ron called his son-in-law, Gabor, who does with some fluency. Gabor was quick to say he would call Ron back with some information and we were prepared to wait a week for this to happen. Shockingly, Gabor called back in 30 minutes with the information that the plumber was outside our door. It was like a magic act; it happens before your eyes, so you think it must be real, but you are never really sure of how it happened. There in front of us was Istvan and he spoke English. Two miracles at once, could our hearts take the excitement? Istvan looked over the bathroom, then went down to look at the neighbor's bathroom ceiling. When he returned upstairs with us, he said there were three possibilities off of the top of his head. This was two ideas more than the other plumbers had, so we took an immediate liking to him. He said he would return tomorrow to test each idea and see which one panned out, arranging to be here at 2:00 in the afternoon. This was convenient with the neighbor's wife, so all were in agreement. Personally, I wanted to chain him and stuff him into a closet until the appointed time. I know how these little leprechauns can lie their way out and you never see them again. When I dragged out the chains, Ron caught on to my motives and stopped me. Fingers are crossed for tomorrow. In the meantime, we had tickets tonight to a dance performance at the Trafo Theater with Kate, Philip, and Nicole, another Fulbrighter. It was a modern dance and other than the movements of their bodies, it was not interesting at all. Kate hated it and she is a choreographer. The two men were good-looking and the fact that they had their bodies almost completely exposed did lend something to the evening, but the woman rolling in 'blood' all over a canvas at the end did shock most of us.

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The Plumber: Continuing Saga

Ron has been persistent in calling the building manager arranged for us by our attorney. The manager said the plumber would come after 7:00 pm tonight. We decided not to exercise hanging by out thumbs waiting, but Ron has so much more faith in all areas of life than I do. He was almost willing to hold his breath while waiting. The messages from downstairs keep coming. I, being the faithless one, made the decision that we should watch some television shows we have on disc. After four episodes, it was 11:00 pm and the doorbell rang. Could it be the plumber at such an hour? No, it was the neighbor. He wanted us to come down to see the new bubble that had appeared in his bathroom ceiling. Not really a good time of the evening for home art appreciation, we went anyway. Yup, that is a bubble in the ceiling. Lovely how symmetrical it is. Okay, I can understand his frustration with this situation, but he did have the ceiling ripped out once already and just had it replaced without trying any productive resolutions to the situation. This should be a give and take on both sides, but he does not seem to know how to play the game even after we explained the rules a dozen times. We shared yet again that we cannot make plumbers materialize out of thin air, even if we were in our home environment. Here, we do not seem to know the magic words to make it happen. Dreading nightmares about our whole bathroom being ripped out to find this leak, we went to bed.

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Mystery Night

We had tickets to the theater with a group of others. One of my students tried corralling a group of twenty into going to get a 500 Huf discount, but it did not happen. Still, 2,000 Huf for just over $10.00 is not bad for a play. The venue was the Merlin Theater, which used to have a number of plays in English and is the 'international' theater in the city. When their long time acting troupe of three Brits abandoned them due to conflicts in artistic rights, their quality and quantity of English theater went into the pit. This play was performed quite brilliantly by two Brits. The play was "The Murder of Irma Vep". One stage set, multiple costume changes in the audience view, these two young actors portrayed eight different characters. On a scale of high school play zero to total professional 10, these two ranged about a six. Their performance was intriguing, but they projection left much to be desired in this small theater with limited seating. Being in the third row, we had difficulty hearing; those in the back rows must have had to read lips. As we all agreed upon leaving, it was an entertaining evening out, but it ended there.

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No Plumber

7:30 pm came and went, but no plumber who was due at 7:00. Ron called, but did not get an answer. Welcome to Hungary.

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An Afternoon with My TA

One of my Teaching Assistants wanted to go to lunch with us today, but not being from Budapest, he had no ideas as to where. There is a vegetarian restaurant on the Buda side we have heard great things about, so decided on this. However, when we arrived, they are closed on weekends. At that metro stop, Batthany ter, there is a church of some historic interest, but why escapes me. The front door was open so we went in for a peek. The actual doors to the church were locked, so we were only able to see the church through the door windows. It is not terribly impressive, but our curiousity was satiated. When we turned to leave, in the vestibule on the step was a plastic cup with a note. I suspected that the person begging when elsewhere for a pitstop, but left the cup just in case. My TA read the note and then translated it. It was a prayer to some saint regarding charity, then he confidently explained "and the rest of it is asking God to hear our screams for help." I almost choked to death on laughter with the word 'screams' which probably was cries. When we walked out, I could not hold it in any longer, and exploded into rioutous guffaws at the change in wording as I mentally pictured people screaming at God for help. I quickly reassured our young translator that I was not laughing AT him, but how the words could be misunderstood. He was a bit self-consious for the next half hour, but soon seemed to get over it. We finally decided on the palacsinta place across the street, four filled crepes for 900 Huf. They were delicious. On the way home, we stopped at the Kossuth ter metro stop. There was statue installed in the lower level of a blind looking man seated with his arm outstretched and pointing. In front of him is a dog. We have been curious about this for some time, but were never with a Hungarian speaker at any time to read the inscription. The TA said it was the name of the artist and gifted by the BKV, the transportation company and the name of the statue. We were still in the dark. My brilliant TA said he thought the title was taken from Greek mythology, a muse of some sort. We had no recollection of this at all. When we returned home, Ron Googled the name and sure enough, the TA was correct. A very obscure mythological figure that looks over government institutions to keep them honest. Kossuth ter is the metro stop for the Hungarian Parliament building.

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Attorneys and Plumbers

Friday, we had an appointment with our attorney regarding the plumbing problem. Why would someone seek a lawyer for a drip? Simple, the drip downstairs is stressing us out with demanding SMS messages. That is correct. He is too fearful/anxious/angry/pathetic, (circle your choice of adjective) to speak with us in person. His SMS was three messages long and hostile. In a foreign country, you have no idea what credentials one needs for the job they perform. Are the plumbers here licensed for example or can anyone with the knowledge call themselves a plumber?

The second plumber dug out all of the caulking and redid the whole tub. He thought this would solve the problem, but it has not. We contacted our attorney for a couple of reasons: A) We did not know how legal this situation could get. B) He could advise us on a professional who could solve this situation for us. C) We are still unclear on what responsibility is the buildings and what is ours. Who owns which pipes?

After hearing the whole story, he said we did not have a legal issue and doubted if it would turn into one. That was a relief to hear. He has a friend who is a building manager for five different apartment/office buildings and per chance lives across the street from us. He called him to come over and advise us. This gentleman has a professional plumber on contract for the buildings he manages and he has agreed to assess the situation. He explained that under the tubs there is a basin. This basin may have filled with water and is now dripping. He seems to believe that he can determine this by taking out two tiles in the wall. He is coming over on Monday evening. We will have everything put into writing in English and in Hungarian, though the drip downstairs does speak English. I have to question the neighbor who had his ceiling redone knowing the drip was still happening.

We are holding our breath until Monday at 7:00 PM.

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My Reaction to the News Around the World

There seems to be a variety of stories about what is happening here in various news sources around the world. I have read reports in different parts of the US as well as the UK and have received many e-mails from readers who are strangers, concerned about our welfare. One US paper has the streets 'littered' with burning cars. This is far from the truth. From what we know, mostly through students, is that the riot happened on Monday night when citizens heard of a leaked tape by the current government that his party lied extensively to win the election. He promised lower taxes, we now have tax hikes, making Hungary one of the highest taxed countries in Europe. The riot was at the Hungarian National Television building where they broke into the building, set things on fire and destroyed equipment. Presumably, there was another demonstration by skinheads at Blah Luiza ter, which is two blocks from us. We had our windows wide open until 11:00 pm when we went to bed, but did not hear a thing. We later heard the street was closed as a precautionary measure. Demonstrations are continuing at the Parliament, mostly peaceful, to try to get the Prime Minister to resign. As I have said to others who have written me, I have taught each day this week, students have shown up for class, and life around all that I need to do has been normal. The transports are all running, people are busy shopping, working and carrying on with their daily lives. If you come visit and had your heart set on a Parliament tour, you will be disappointed for now. Otherwise, things seem to be status quo.

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Budapest Riot Updates

Update on Budapest demonstrations (Thurs., 11:00 CET)

By: CaboodleNews:10:00

Following are the most recent important developments relating to this week's unrest in Budapest:

• Following a series of confrontations last night between rioters and the police, 55 people were taken into custody and 17 needed to be hospitalized. "Accelerated" legal proceedings have been started against detained protestors.

• As of this morning, only a few dozen protesters remain on Kossuth tér, in front of the Hungarian Parliament. Some of the protestors confirmed to the media that a few "agitators" have been responsible for the violence and tension. Last night some of those protesting peacefully decided to send a delegation to State President László Sólyom to propose a "National Round Table" (Nemzeti Kerekasztal) to deal with the country's political unrest.

• An English-speaking woman who brought several kitchen knives to Kossuth tér was led away by police this morning. She said she had come to Hungary to protest for the removal of Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány.

• Despite earlier plans, neither former US President George Bush nor Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice are likely to come to Hungary for the 50th anniversary of the 1956 revolution next month.

• Local sporting goods stores have sold their entire stocks of baseball bats, state news wire MTI reported yesterday. MTI had surveyed stores because footage of some protests in Budapest showed rioters hitting a police car with baseball bats.

• A larger than normal contingent of bodyguards is accompanying Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány, and his home is being secured by police officers. He was also offered a safer vehicle than the current, but he did not accept it.

• At least two agitators were apprehended last night in Pécs trying to cause trouble at an otherwise peaceful demonstration. Meanwhile, unknown perpetrators broke the glass door of the local headquarters of the governing Socialist Party (MSZP) and painted "Death to MSZP!" on another of the party's office buildings.

• Budapest's Eastern Railway Station (Keleti pályaudvar) was closed this morning at 7:45 due to a bomb scare. Service returned to normal a little after 9 a.m. as no explosives were found.

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Bad Blogger Man

Okay, I admit it, I am a bad blogger person, not having posted for a over two weeks. Lack of things to blog about is not the issue, but just the opposite. There has been so much activity, getting time and mental energy to coincide to blog has been the problem. The university started yet again on September 5th. This year, we do not have any freshmen due the the new Bologna Plan that is changing university systems in forty-four countries. Yet, even without new students, the beginning of school entails creating lists of students, getting e-mail addresses and mobile phone numbers for communication, pairing them off into teams for oral presentations, regrouping them into a second pairing to lead class discussions, and finally a group of four for a CARE team, to teach them responsibility for each other. Many of these are concepts they only encounter in my classes. In addition, I am teaching two new courses this semester: Critical Thinking and Ethnic Issues in the US. Each class only meets for 1 1/2 hours a week, so to further their thinking skills and sharing with each other, I created a blog for each class. I post a question each week after class based on our discussion of the reading and they have to respond to it. This is an entirely new concept for them, so it took over a week getting all of them prepped for becoming a blog member and how to post to the respective blog. Creating a pictorial Over the last two weeks, we have had a second plumber come to inspect our bathroom. The downstairs neighbor had been complaining for some time now that there is a leak in his ceiling. This started last year, we had a plumber look at our bathroom, but he could not find any problems. He advised the neighbor who was intending to have remodeling done, to have it checked from their ceiling upward when the ceiling was ripped out. The next thing we heard, the neighbor had his ceiling replaced and complained about leakage again. We have yet to become aware of the result of their workers investigation. They are putting the pressure on us to do something. Logic demands that if you have the ceiling ripped out, you correct any and all problems and concerns before you proceed with putting in a new ceiling, but no, this did not happen. We had a second plumber who came and suggested the grout around the tub was leaking. He ripped the grout out and re-grouted the tub. The problem continues. Then there is the issue of responsibility. If the problem is in a main pipe, it is the building's financial concern, but if it is own of our pipes, it is ours. Our insurance will pay for the neighbor's ceiling, but not for the repairs of the pipes. The joys of home ownership continue from country to country. We have an appointment with our attorney on Friday to discuss the matter and to try to find a qualified professional that will finally make a recommendation that everyone has to live with. The neighbor is great at complaining, but not working with us. Though he speaks English, he will only SMS us or send his wife up to speak with us. Amongst all of this chaos, I had a crown done over a root canal. God, I love my dentist. The cost for a crown was 24,000 Huf or $113.00. This is what I paid for a teeth cleaning in California. Hungary is known for its quality dentistry and people come from all over Europe for dental care due to the cost. On the positive side, Ron found that the Traf0 theater was issuing season tickets for 5,500 Huf ($26.00) for five performances. This is the experimental dance theater, so language is not an issue. We went to the first performance on Saturday, the 16th with friends. It was a troupe from Belgium who presented a play/dance combo with amazing body movements. All of us were mesmerized and could not stop discussing it over coffee afterward. This is the crux of happenings in a nutshell. The museum quest has been put off for the last fifteen I have yet to visit, but it will happen. It is strenuous to try to commit to them when there are so many other things happening around us. tutorial helped enormously in making them independent. The first two classes were excellent and beyond my expectations. If they continue in this vein, I will be one happy instructor.

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Our 13th Anniversary

As difficult as it is to believe, today is our 13 year anniversary. During the day, we did not do anything special, but in the evening, we met up with Kate the Fulbrighter and then another Fulbrighter, Chris. The four of us went to see "Click". The plan was to continue on after that to Bombay Express for the 'All-You-Can-Eat' Indian foof dinner. The movie was out so late, Kate begged off. She had given a video of "Dirty Dancing" a tongue in cheek joke since she is a professional dancer. Chris stuck it out with us and we also met up with Walker and Bill at the restaurant. It was a great day in the neighborhood.

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Schizoid Day

It was a glorious day, warm, but not excessively so making it the perfect day to do something different. A friend of ours, another ex-pat suggested we try the chair lift some time, claiming the scenery from the top was like none other in the city. We called one of my students, Balazs, who likes to practice is English with every opportunity. He admitted he had a severe fear of heights, but would join us anyway. This is a different Balazs then the nephew Balazs. We call this one "Junior". The nephew arranged for this Balasz to be our year 'replacement' interpreter/translator/friend/nephew while he is in the States for a year.

Taking a detour, we have booked another trip to Africa. This year, we are going to South Africa, then Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, and then back to South Africa. For all of my travel knowledge, I screwed this up badly. Our friend in South Africa had suggested a trip that starts in Victoria Falls on the Zambia side and then ends in Cape Town. When I contacted the agency, I was warned that a decision needed to be made soon, since it would be over Christmas and bookings are fill fast. With this in mind, we went to the travel agency to book our flights. Fly into Johannesburg from Budapest and then out of Cape Town. For my entire Internet searching, manipulating, and coercing, I could not beat the fare the travel agency had found so we bought the tickets. Here is where the first blunder started. I should have checked more tour companies before buying the tickets. As it was, we did not like the tour suggested. It was short, more than we had planned on spending, and most nights were spent in sleeping bags on the ground. My last days in a sleeping bag were in Boy Scouts and I vowed then, never again. Prompted by foreseeable back pain, lack of sleep, feeling grubby and grumpy, I surfed the Internet in search of other tours. What I could not and still cannot justify in my mind is how poverty-stricken underdeveloped countries can be so expensive to tour through. Many of the agencies I tried contacting sent a responder message. "We received your inquiry and will respond as soon as possible." For some, they fell into that black hole, I never heard back from them. Others did the hard sell, but still with sleeping bags on the ground for hundreds more dollars than the first tour suggested. Now we had tickets and no tour within our budget, what to do? More hunting, more searches, more pleading for cooperation and a reasonable cost, but to no avail, we had to rethink this situation. Here is where my travel IQ went plummeting. All of the other tours we checked into started from Cape Town and ended in Johannesburg. The complete opposite of the airline tickets we had purchased, based on the first suggested tour. Searching, hunting, inquiring, networking, and bribing, was no use. All of the other tours were backward for our flights. After flogging myself with wet travel brochures, we groveled, gave in and booked a 21 day tour that exceeded the cost of any trip we had ever taken, putting my moniker budgetnomad on probation. We booked a tour that starts in Cape Town the day after we arrive, goes through Namibia, then Botswana, and on to Victoria Falls in Zambia, leaving us there. Unless we intended to hitchhike from Victoria Falls to Cape Town, we had to book another flight . We also had to book a flight from Jo'burg to Cape Town at the start of the trip. I can handle the sound of lions roaring outside my accommodations, but the sound of a cash register cha-chinging in my head makes my blood run cold. Many, many dollars later, a hefty balance on the credit card, and raw nerves we were now set to go. We have tickets from Budapest to Johannesburg, tickets from there to Cape Town for the same day, one night in Cape Town and then we start our 21 day tour. We end in Zambia, where we have a flight back to Cape Town and two nights there before flying home to Budapest. Since we have lovely friends in Cape Town, this hardly seemed like a reasonable amount of time to spend there with them. Originally with a nine day tour, we would have had so much more time. We returned k to the travel agency to see how much it would cost to extend our time in Cape Town. I had a bad omen when she asked if we wanted to pay for our tickets today. While holding my breath, I said they were paid for already and have appeared on my credit card. Clearly and slowly, I enunciated we ONLY wanted to check on the cost of changing our return for a few days later. She asked which date we were thinking of, but there was no 2007 calendar around. Using our mobile phone's calendar function, we arbitrarily stated January 15th. Again, I reiterated, we do not want to make any changes until we know the cost and give it some thought. Her fingers were flashing over the keys of her computer's keyboard, faster than a jaguar after its prey. She rose from her chair and walked away, returning with two sheets of paper that she handed to us. "This is your new itinerary." She pleasantly utters. With this, I asked "How long do we have to decide on this before we actually make the changes?" The difference was $311.00 for both of us. She looks at me quizzically and states. "I made the changes." What? What? I told you twice that we did not want to do anything, but gather information. What was going on in my head is not printable. When she realized her mistake, she tried backtracking to the original reservation. Opps! The seats were gone. We would have to be waitlisted if we wanted our original flights back. Now we have worked with this agency long enough to know this is not a scam they pull. This woman's English was not suitable for dealing with English speakers. It was obvious by her co-worker's face that he was disgusted with her performance. Acquiescing, we went with the flow of fate and paid for the changes, will concerns that any further negotiating, we would not have seats on any flights at all.

Back on track again, we traveled the metro to the stop where we were to meet Balazs, and then the three of us took bus 156 to the end of the line arriving at the chairlift. Tickets are only 500 Huf each way, making this a bargain. The lifts are just like you see in the movies at ski resorts, but since I do not ski, I have never been on one before.

Balazs and I rode together; three to a seat was impossible. The scenery downward was treetops and bushes. We kept estimating how much bodily damage we would have with this breaking our fall. It was peaceful once we could beyond fear.

At the top is a lookout spot, which Ron was determined to climb up. The road was about a ½ mile up on a ninety-degree incline. It kept me from having a cigarette on the way up, but had one at the top to celebrate making it. Once at the top of the hill is a memorial building which is 100 years old. Balazs was not translating the many word-filled posters with photos of years gone by. Ron had to climb to the top of this too for the view. I thought the view was just fine, but followed anyway. Flying ant like creatures filled the air at the top. When they landed bees or wasps, I am not sure what they were, attacked them. This kept the bee things from leaving me alone. They must have liked the smell of my shampoo; they kept going for my hair.

We had choices for the way down, but I wanted to do the chairlift again, this time riding alone. It was so peaceful. We then took the bus to the cogwheel and stopped at an out of the way café for a coffee. An excellent day! But a bit of disaster was to follow this evening.

Apart from spending more money than we had anticipated, it was a day to live in our memories for some time. I have some air shots of the chairlift ride, but have to download them from the camera yet.

Tonight, we were watching a show via the laptop computer. I had the laptop plugged in, but could not figure out why it was not showing on the television. One of those “Duh!” moments, I did not have the cable from the TV into the computer. However, the screen looked dim to me and I bought this computer specifically for the high density lighting for photo and video editing. Still in my “Duh!” phase no doubt, I could not figure what was wrong, but since we were watching the TV, it did not matter.

After fifty minutes into the show, the balloon popped up on the computer screen warning the battery was running dry. That was why the screen was dim, but it was plugged into the socket, so it should not have been running on battery juice. Vroom, the computer went out like a date on rohypnol. Ron went to check the plug, plugged it into another outlet, the lights came and went with the movement, but then hiss, spark, sizzle, snap, crackle and pop. The power cord was shot. The computer is only 4 months old, but in Hungary, after 3 days after the sale, you are in the hands of the WARRANTY people. I have the number for Tosiba’s authorized fixer upper, but was assured they do not speak English. Tuesday is coming and classes start, so I have ready access to translators once again.

There is no way to tell at this point if it damaged the computer or not. It is one of those wait and see games. The middle of the day was so great. I have to remember the chairlift peace and drift baccccccckkkkk.

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