Bureaucrapest

This week brought a whole new appreciation of the word bureaucracy. I made my first steps to holding a resident's permit. This document allows me to legally stay in Hungary for the year, so it is pretty important.There is  long list of requirements: bank account statements, application forms, photos, copies of passports and proof of insurance, documents from the school and the dorm, and several  of the most expensive postage stamps I have ever bought. Ninety dollars worth (18,000 HUF) of payment became four little postage stamps to be affixed to my documents. I gathered all these materials in a purple, plastic folder and made my way to the office on Tuesday. 

Here is an example of Hungarian Forint (HUF).

Thank you photo machines.

I climbed on a tram that brought me to a bus that brought me to a communist era building that is really a black hole. In this black hole you must line up and you must wait and wait and wait to take a number. Then you must find a seat in a big room with at least fifty other people and you must sit and sit and sit. You need to look hopefully at a small electronic board and watch as numbers spring up and pass. In the end when your number arises you go to a one side of a glassed cubicle. Show your papers and sign and sign and sign the documents. I have never seen so many stamps to validate a single piece of paper before. All-in-all a four hour experience not including travel. sigh. Hopefully in 15 or so days they will decide to let me stay in the country and send me a registration card. Keep your fingers crossed. 

Despite this bleak experience the sun shines down in Budapest. My soggy Washington blood can barely take all the sunshine. I find my self looking at the endless sun symbols with despair on the Weather Channel. It was with some joy that last week I had my first rain shower. It came as the light was fading and the sky became lovely and grey and the wind began to pick up. The weather is pretty muggy here so it felt like I could breath again. I opened my windows wide and tried to capture it.

Speaking of taking a breath, my classes have officially begun. I will be officially be up to my ears in readings, presentations and essays. I am excited and terrified by the challenge but I hear that many people live through it and so I hope to as well. I went to the Central Market, the largest fresh market in the city, to prepare myself for this diligent learning. Think Pikes Place times two and insert the Danube instead of the Puget Sound and you sort of get the idea. I have not been able to find Kale so I may die a small death but there are other pretty  vegetables to sustain me. The most ubiquitous vegetables are: kohlrobi, cabbage, celeriac, tomatoes, potatoes,carrots and paprika (peppers). It is pretty fun to see so much Kohlrobi. 

Descending into the Metro.

I liked the monkey on this door.

Brassica central!! The kohlrobi is front and center !

A display in the market.

 I hope the weeks brings good things to you and I'll keep you update on my scholarly life and explorations of Budapest!

Around Every Corner

When I applied to graduate school, I was warned that it would not matter where I lived because I almost certainly would not be able to have time to enjoy it. The first two weeks has encouraged monastic solitude and as I sign up for classes and look at the syllabi, I see it will only get more acute. However, I can't help but think that being able to take a walk around the block and see the magnificent Parliament building, be greeted by the lions of the Chain Bridge or get a beer and sit by the Danube, that it doesn't hurt to be a monk in a beautiful place.

Peeking at Parliament

The Danube

It looks like I scanned a postcard but I didn't!

The fierce Guardian of the Chain Bridge

Beautiful details like this litter the buildings here

Getting my Barings

Just before I left for Budapest I was staying with one of my best friends. We got on the subject of obituaries and decided we wanted to become masters of our own narrative. We laid on the bed coming up with what our obituaries might be if we died this year. Mine was: Rose Oliveira: She died mid-transformation, trying to break out of her cocoon. I thought that this was a good metaphor on my fears of leaving for Budapest. It's a big change and I wasn't sure if I would be able to transform. The first few days were severe and I felt very deeply the space left by leaving behind Patrick and Euri, my family,friends and the northwest. I tried to fill that hole with tears but eventually I got my legs on the ground.

From Empty to...

slightly LESS empty!

 So I am slowly making my little space more full. Making it into the cozy place I love to live in.

And I think I can make this place feel like home.

Countdown

Janus is the Roman God of beginnings and transitions. He looks both ways at once and I feel a kinship with him. In July, when i thought about August, I wanted to slow down the speed of its arrival.  I knew August would slide through my fingers. Now in the middle of August I feel more like Janus.The face which looks back is looking hard. It's trying to remember each detail because it will never be quite this way again. My daily routine is marked by mini farewells. I said goodbye  last weekend to rising at 7 to wake up the farm. Picking up Butch the farm cat and preparing myself for when i wont have his sleek form to keep me company. And  realizing this weekend is my last one in the States. These little goodbyes are steps for the last goodbye which is 8 days away. There is no way to put on the brakes. I must look forward.

Sunday sale

Heading into a new adventure requires a battle with the past. The past is first bundled, then boxed up and  finally scattered on blankets with pink price tags on a friend's lawn. I recently saw Wendell Berry speak in Seattle. He read a story about a family's  farm put on sale. There is a moment when the narrator talks about the divorce from the objects once they are put out for bid. Cutlery and dishes, intrinsic to the daily life, suddenly became something apart. And with these new eyes, these objects  just look tattered and not your own anymore. Sitting in the safety of the chair with the box of change on my lap, all those books, clothes and trinkets become once more just things. There is something magic and strange about that transition.

This yard sale is the start of a new shedding. A departure from my beloved grey Washington with its magic light at the end of August. Look at how lovely and strange it is:

I've spun the wheel once and Budapest and The Central European University is where it begins. Where it will take me.... we'll find out.