Gyor in the 17th century became the last stronghold of the Austrian Habsburg family when the Ottoman had finally taken over Budapest, at the time called Buda and Pest. Nowadays, the Turks have left. The Habsburg was long gone. Only Hungarians decide what to do with their city and turn it into a posh little town where Czech tourists come to shop. This is probably why Student Agency, the most popular bus company from the Czech Republic, has a stop here in Gyor, the only other stop beside Budapest. Gyor wasn’t in my original travel itinerary, and I should have been in Serbia by now. I delayed the trip only to hang out with Ferenc, a Hungarian, whom I met a month ago at an art museum in Istanbul. We struck a casual conversation, the kind you have with a complete stranger like “This one is nice isn’t it?” or “How about the other one?” to appear a bit knowledgeable you know. Somewhere along the hall from one green head to another red hand, our conversation changed from abstract art to Ataturk and Turkey history that Ference was doing some research for his university assignment. He got me a little bit intrigued later when out of the blue he made this passionate speech about Hungarians. One characteristic often associates with Hungarians is their temperament. They are usually described as intense and emotional. Being a sucker for cliche as I am, I thought I had found the perfect stereotypical Hungarian and, therefore, followed him the rest of the evening.
A month later, I traveled to Budapest and called him up. The plan was to meet only for a drink in the evening, but somehow we decided to make a trip together to Gyor. It wasn’t so much for me to see the city, but it was more to hear him talk. Anyway, Gyor is a charming town with rows and rows of colorful Baroque, Rococo and Renaissance buildings in various shades of yellow, pink and orange. The lovely facade caught my attention for like 15 minutes. It was the hours after gathering censured-free opinions from this vocal, cynical Hungarian that marked the highlight of my travel.
Why am I bringing up this one-year-old trip now?
The point is this.
08/06/2010: CNN – “The extreme nationalist anti-Gypsy Jobbik party made an electoral breakthrough, winning nearly 15 percent of the vote to send three MEPs to Brussels for the first time.” [Source]
13/04/2010: Spiegel Online International – “German media commentators, are worried about the resurgence of nationalism in Hungary and wonder whether its political system is strong enough to cope with the hate-filled polarization that has swept the country. The Jobbik party got some 17 percent after campaigning on a deeply xenophobic platform. Commentators said Jobbik makes the Freedom Party of the late Jörg Haider, the Austrian populist, and Dutch right-winger Geert Wilders seem moderate.” [Source]
The news reminded me of the lunch I had with Ferenc in Gyor. We had chicken with potato which was oh-so-common for Central European cuisine. While waiting for the chicken to be done and while shredding the chick’s thighs to pieces with our teeth, I compiled in my head a ‘Hungarian Rhapsody’ after convincing Ferenc to tell me what is bad about his country. I figured it would be easier for a cynical to point out negative than positive traits.
Cheating
Ferenc: “We, Hungarians, don’t buy tickets for public transport and avoid taxes if we can.”
Yeah, but don’t we all want to cheat a bit here and there if the situation allows? Many Czechs, dressed in suits, ride public transport for free every day. Tourists from richer countries carrying iPod, iPhone, laptop do the same, cheating on a €1 ticket. God knows how many times I did this back in my younger years. Cheating on taxes is a global disease. Those who don’t entertain the idea of it. I don’t call this a problem; I call it capitalism or ‘self-loved.’
Unhealthy eating habit
Ferenc: “We don’t eat lots of vegetables.”
Who does unless you’re American, who want to drop a few inches by the waist. This habit isn’t entirely Hungarian though. Hungarian is a typical thick and oily Central European cuisine which bases on potatoes, meat, and fries. I’ve lived in the Czech Republic for a while now and can vouch for this fact. Over here vegetables for the Czechs mean sauerkraut, a pickle or a few green leaves. Having said that, it will still be a long way before the poor eating habit becomes a major problem for Hungarians. They still have one of the best-looking women in the world, or so they say.
Don’t want to change
Ferenc: “We are proud of our traditions; we won’t change habits even when it’s bad. For example, I will never learn how to cook and clean because these are women things.”
Ferenc admitted that he doesn’t know how to operate a laundry machine. His father forbids his mom to teach him because it will shame the family. I asked what if he lost his job, short on the money and needed to cook for himself instead of eating out. He said, “no, it will never happen. We are raised in our family to believe that we will make enough money to eat out in the restaurant.”
Apathetic
Ferenc: “We don’t care. We don’t take care of buildings. You saw many ruined buildings we passed on the way. We let them damaged like that and don’t give a shit.”
There are probably more things Hungarians don’t care about, but our lunch was short, and I needed to move on to other traits.
Bragging
Ferenc: “We like showing off. We brag about our clothes, cars, and properties and exaggerate their values.”
Hmm. Why does this sound familiar to many people I know, including the Vietnamese? I think all of us like to have new clothes, nice cars, and big properties, and once we do have them, we would like to show them off and brag to others. It is different to the extent of how far we go. This kind of problem is more visible among groups of becoming rich people in dirt poor or used-to-be poor countries.
Spendthrift
Ferenc: “A friend of mine bought a house for 50 million HUF though he couldn’t afford it. Take me for example; I stayed in a four-star hotel while traveling in Istanbul. (Remember, he’s only a university student.) Hungarians do that. Do you remember how the hostel owner [in Budapest] was surprised when I slept there the other night? It is because only foreigners stay in hostels, Hungarians don’t.”
This is probably the kind of behavior which put their country in deep shit. Hungary is one of many European countries deeply affected by the global financial crisis. One of the culprits? The people borrowed loan in foreign currency (EUR) when the forint was stronger to buy and buy stuff. Now the forint devalues, and they suddenly find themselves owing much more than they originally did.
Sport fanatic
Ferenc: “One Hungarian sports fanatic shot dead a gypsy child to revenge the death of Marian Cozma, a Romanian handball player, who was stabbed and killed by Hungarian gypsy criminals at a club in Veszprém, Hungary. I think he [the white Hungarian killer] will get fifty witnesses saying he was attacked first and struck back in self-defense. Eventually, he will get away with it.” Ferenc calmly reported the event. “My Turkish friends completely understood it. They said the same thing would happen if someone kills Arda Turan, a Turkish football superstar.”
I: “Didn’t the gypsies file a lawsuit?”
Ferenc: “Yeah! We are ‘equal,’ but under the court of law, a Romani’s voice is inferior to that of a Hungarian.”
I: “Aren’t you guys a barbaric society, though?”
Ferenc: “Well, we are Hungarians.” He shrugged.
Should I also add nationalistic to the list? The “sports fanatic” characteristic mentioned above is just a manifestation of pent-up resentment and hatred toward the marginal Romani group. The tension, dislike or hatred, whichever way you call it, is a general problem not just in Hungary but the rest of Eastern Europe, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Romania for example. The culture differences between the white and the gypsies are too much to reconcile. The gypsies cry about discrimination. The white swear up and down they have done more than enough to integrate the Gypsies who are just too lazy to cooperate.
After getting an earful of information, I said to Ferenc that I would not want to live here because his country was too conservative for me.
“Thank you, Cindy! You are too American, too liberal for Hungary.” He retorted. “Many of my American friends don’t like living here either.” He smiled. “These Americans sympathize with the gypsies and complain that we treat them badly. One friend of mine was robbed by a gypsy; then he changed his mind. Still, he thinks that gypsies should be integrated into our society. He visited my house and said that to my father. You know how my father answered?”
“How?”
“Over my dead body!” He giggled.
“A group of human right activists from Denmark came to Hungary and visited a gypsy ghetto despite our warning about the danger of the area. They disregarded the warning, went there and were robbed and beaten. The police found one of the activists naked in the bush. But that isn’t even the story. The story is that this activist went on a television interview and said that we, Hungarians, treated the gypsies so badly that we turned them against white people.” Ference stopped for a minute to breathe after talking for so long. “So now, do you still think that gypsies should be integrated?”
“Yes, I do!” I grinned.
“Over my dead body!” We both roared with laughter.
04/2009
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My name is Cindy, also rhymes with travel junkie. A friend said I was probably a gipsy in my previous life. One of my many secret missions in life is to convert you to run off every once in awhile.
