With a sigh …
Posted: October 19, 2007
we got to Venice relieved. I don't want to offend any Hungarians who may happen upon this journal, but it was not our favorite leg of the journey.
Crushed beneath the concrete foot of USSR Communism, Hungary never regained much of its stature. While we were traveling through, it seemed to be a depressed place of angry people, not on whole, some people we interacted with one on one were very nice, but most were not.
The bartender here, at the Huteldorfer Hostel in Vienna, and I were talking about places we'd traveled and I asked her what she thought of Hungary. She's Austrian, she's been Hungary many times. She said the Hungarians are "all pissed off." Her theory is that the language is very hard to handle, the Hungarians are very poor, struggling against EU inflation without the benefit of being a Euro currency nation. So all travel season the Hungarians are inundated with people who have more money than them, might or might not be obnoxious, and cannot speak their language worth a damn.
Enter two genial bicyclists who try to get the language down, don't have a lot of money, in fact we're on shoestring budgets, and act quite tame in public, usually. We still paid the price of admission by every shop owner who scowled at us and just short of shooed us out.
Here is how you say thank you in Hungarian. Kosonome.
Here is how you say thank you in Italian. Grazie
Italian is a much easier language, the people, while swamped with tourists year round, have accepted their fate, sure, they won't work very hard for you, but they won't glare at you until you leave. We were happy to be in Venice, where one-syllable grunts will get you nearly anything you need.
Here's a script I came up with. The best scenario for this is that is to be shouted by both parties, and accompanied by wild gesticulations and general waving about of the hands and arms.
Shopowner: Pronto!
Me, entering a shop: Pronto!
Shopowner: Prego!
Me: Prego!
Shop: Si, si, si, si, si.
Me: Caffe latte!
Shop: Caffe latte! Si! Pronto! Prego!
Me: Pronto! Prego!
Shop: Caffe latte!
Me: Grazie!
Shop: Grazie!
Me, leaving shop after having drunk the best coffee of my life: Grazie! Ciao!
Shop: Grazie! Ciao! Ciao! Grazie!
Really, it was a wonderful contrast to our time spent in Budapest, where most transactions were handled with vague silences, pleading from me, and finally a dejected exit.
David has a lot more Hungarian to teach you, young man. We MISS YOU!! Are you home yet? The texting will begin momentarily…. xoxo, Barb
I am in Vienna. I'll be home in a couple days.
Hey Ollie, I could have told you all about Hungary and saved you the trouble of visitng.
You know they once tried to import "Wheel of Fortune" to Hungarian televison but it flopped because none of the contestants reacted with enthusiasm when they won — they just assumed it was a sham and they really wouldn't get any of the prizes. They even brought in psychologists to coach the contestants but it didn't work so in the end they just cut away from their faces. I also heard that one woman who won a living room suite refused to leave without taking the furniture with her — they had told her they would deliver it to her place, but she didn't believe them. And THAT, my friend, is Hungary. Also, everyone is out to make a fast buck with some scam. Pyramid schemes are HUGE there.
Oh, and "thank you" is even more complictaed than you suggest. It is spelled "kösönöm" and those O's with umlauts are sounds that American mouths cannot make.
David (whose 92-year old grandmother arrives in the States from Budapest today)
p.s. I really like your photos. I think I could travel with you (so long as it doesn't involve showdowns at the ÖK Corral because, unlike you, I *am* a pussy). Barb doesn't have much patience for me taking pictures of graffiti and architectural details. I always have to chase after her because she's wandered, obliviously, ahead, and it would be horrible to misplace my wife in some bolshevik backwater.
p.p.s. Venice was waaaaay too crowded this year. It was like being crammed into a disco-ball lit nightclub packed with thousands of unshowered, garishly-dressed Eastern Europeans.
David, all travel with me requires some altercation with police, bouncers, the local mafia or junkies. Some trips, all of them.
Here's something I can say that's pleasant about Hungary, It's the country I've most recently seen an old drunk man piss his pants, unseating Mexico.
Now, that is an awesome surprise that very few travel destinations are willing to offer.