Reporting from Budapest, Vol. 1

Time for some bookkeeping here.

Days in Budapest: 5
Snowfalls: 3
Week-long high:  1.6 C
Number of sun sightings: 0

Honestly, I'm more amazed that daylight trickles in every morning from the perpetually gray sky than I am convinced that the sun still exists.  No one else on the BSM program has seen the sun this week either.  I need to do some digging and find out if this is the usual for Budapest winters:  if so, I may be re-temporarily expatriating to southern Greece.

All kidding about the weather aside, my first, partial week in Budapest has been nice, even if shockingly cold for a South Carolina boy.  The biggest problem with BP so far is the annoying Hungarian habit of closing everything early (eg no metro after 11:15 PM and our school closes at 6 PM).  Obviously, this demands some fundamental American questions, such as "Where do we study math at 2 AM?"

To introduce my readers to Budapest, where to start?  According to T. S. Eliot,

What we call the beginning is often the end.  And to make an end is to make a beginning.  The end is where we start from.

(I'm sure several of my former English teachers are cursing me for the formatting of that block quote.  Blog-based text editors aren't all they're cracked up to be.)  This quote is significant for two reasons.  Probably more than two.  Primarily, it demonstrates that even Eliot ended sentences with prepositions.  As a secondary point, and perhaps more germane to our discussion, Eliot's quote is extremely meta and suggests that I should wait until June to write about this experience.  (Shout out to Dr. Mossinghoff for actually using "germane" in a math lecture last semester.  Must have been the only time I've heard it since SAT prep.)

Contrary to Eliot's advice, however, I will start at the beginning.  I think there is a good quote about starting at the beginning, too, but I will spare you the excess digression.  This brings us back in time to Tuesday at Ferihegy International (Budapest's main airport.  Wikipedia suggests pronouncing it "ferry hedge."  This is wrong but not far off.  More on the "gy" later.).

As I mentioned, my arrival in Hungary was totally free of customs officials and passport checks.  I now suspect this was because Hungary is a Schengen country, as is Germany, and everyone on the plane either was German or had gone through German customs.  It still strikes me as strange.

My flat-mate ("flat" seems to be the chic Euro word for "apartment") is a guy named Lucas from St. Olaf.  He's also in the BSM program.  Our first apartment was not quite to our liking, so Anna, the extremely helpful Student Coordinator, arranged for us to switch into our present apartment.  Our flat is a little bare, but BSM has some sort of relationship with the landlords for them to provide basic things for the apartment -- beds, kitchen utilities, blankets (albeit miniature versions of their American cousins), linens, desks, chairs, etc.  So essentially, as a BSM student, you receive a minimally-but-functionally furnished apartment.  In my opinion, some things could be a little more adequate (eg our lavish collection of three dinner plates) but I'm picking other battles.  For now, a tour of our flat.

The facade

Mosaics on the walk up

The courtyard

The digs

The view from my bedroom

The view, accompanied by a Túrórudi, a Hungarian treat:  basically a roll of sweet ricotta cheese covered in chocolate

The bathroom.  Note the sit-down shower and radiator drying rack (right wall).

The kitchen

Magnets on the fridge.  No idea what this says, save "Coca-Cola" and "Coke."

My Hungarian might be rusty, but I get the gist of this one.  (Presumably an ironic souvenir left behind by last semester's residents.)

I'll leave you with that rather flamboyant portrait of Hungarian cigar salesmen.  I've got some Saturday shopping and housekeeping to catch up with.  I'm planning to write a little about language school and the city itself soon, check back again tomorrow.

NB.  To clarify some Hungarian rules of pronunciation, their "s" is roughly like an English "sh."  Their "sz" is just like an English "s."  And their "gy" is impossible to pronounce.  Hence, Budapest is pronounced Budapesht; Erdos, Erdush; and sajtburger, shyteburger.  Sajt is Hungarian for cheese.  This pronunciation probably accounts for the historically poor performance of the sajtburger among Brits at Hungarian Micky D's.