Tag: Budapest
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Budapest by Brompton (or any bike, for that matter)
“You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy a plane ticket to Budapest. And that, pretty much, is the same thing.” mysuitcasejourneys.com “To me, it doesn’t matter whether it’s raining, or the sun is shining, or whatever: as long as I’m riding a bike, I know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” Mark Cavendish,…
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Istvan
I suppose it’s unlikely I’ll ever see him again. There was an air of dignity around him, sitting as he did each afternoon along Stefania Street back to the sun, almost always with a book in his hand. As I passed him on my daily bike ride home from school, his stare was inevitably downward,…
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Two-Years and a Thousand Tears
It’s rather unmistakable. The first time we lived here in Budapest we both noticed it. We felt it at work, in shops, nearly everywhere we went in Hungary. After several weeks, we came to an explicit agreement–we would not let the palpable, dour spirit become part of our souls. This would take some work. There’s…
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The Math Prize
The memories of the the Jews of Szentendre are like notes left in the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem – messages periodically collected by the Rabbis and buried in the hills of the Olive Mount, so as not to be forgotten in the memory of God. The earliest mention of Jewish people in Szentendre was about…
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If We Dare
“The problem is not just those who hate, it’s those who stand by complicitly, and do nothing.” Eddie Gloude, Princeton University What would I have done? What would you have done? Fair questions indeed. Some, no doubt, must have left proudly, though certainly indignantly. Others must have resisted, leaving their nail marks on the doors…
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Joseph’s Gift
He greets me many school mornings, hand outstretched, a smile on his face. I didn’t know his role at the school and frankly it didn’t matter. His is a friendly and calming countenance, a momentary oasis, in an environ-ment of noise and commotion–a typical Hungarian high school. One day I asked him what he did…
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The Locksmith
It began as just another normal weekday morning: pour-over coffee, shower, quick breakfast. I was about to literally roll out of our building on my bike and head to school to begin another day of teaching. It was Friday, a relatively light teaching day, and I was looking forward to ending the week on a…
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Inner Courtyard
Meanderer. Meandering is how I spend a good slice of my life. Some of it is quite noticeable–you might see me heading down a cobble-stoned street in Portland, Maine, or perhaps one here in Budapest, Hungary. I’ll likely be staring at buildings, or gazing at passers-by, stopping every so often to try a local version…
American in Budapest 