So yes, I know it has been a while since the last time I wrote, or at least a while considering the rate I keep in blogging. I do this like this were the CNN and people where depending on my words to make their daily decisions. Well, in some pathetic cases, that's the way it is. I have, however, turned a little more to my journal, and scribbled a ways a few of my thoughts, though not all of them. I wish I could, but I simply either don't find enough alone-time to devote myself to one of my favorite activities on Earth, or when I have such time, I find myself deeply involved reading
"Northern Lights", a novel by
Jennifer Donnelly, which my aunt lended me. The book is "thick" compared with my reading rate, which is still awefully slow, and it's inb Hungarian instead of English. The language itself ain't the problem regarding my reading speed or understanding, but the thing is that the book was originally written in English and I normally prefer to read book in their original language. It might be a bit insulting to say this or even think this way when my aunt is a professional translator, currently working on translating the biography of
Borges from English to Hungarian, and who has translated several books from Spanish to Hungarian or from Catalan to Hungarian, her strongs, BUT I really, trully prefer reading in original as much as I can. If it's not possible, then yes, I prefer reading in Hungarian, if the book is available in that language.
Yesterday my aunt, uncle and I went to
Szentendre, a lovely city North from Budapest, which is kept pretty much like an old city. It's not exactly a Skanzen, I believe, but it's beautiful and very well kept. I didn't take many pictures because I already did last year and it was at the same things. I did take, however, a picture at some animals they kept in this little closing, and called the space "simogató", which means "stroker". It would be so much fun if you could make a stroker for people, where you could put people to be stroked and taken care by others. It's like a little "closing" of love. It does make your heart grow. Or what it would be like if you could do something like that, without bars and chicken wire, for cat and dog petting?
My uncle bought for himself a T-shirt that says:
"Two Beer or not Two Beer" -- Shakebeer. It's so comical! I bought myself a lovely brown t-shirt that says
BP and
Budapest (us Hungarians use BP as the initials of our Capital City, since it's made out of two city-parts: Buda and Pest.) I bought also another one, a black one that has a Matrix screen design and says
Budapest Visited. It's kinda cool. I'm not a big Matrix fan, like Carrie and Jules, but I like the design. We got also a bracelet for my sister-in-law and a winter hat to replace the one Skylar gave me for Christmas... which I lost in Wien BEFORE I even got to pack it back in the Christmas wrapper and open it officially like a Christmas present. T_T I miss that hat! Well, all that's left are the pictures, like this one:
Yes, I look good in this picture, right? That's in front of a gate at the Eger's Castle... or fortress. The place is beautiful. That's from the first week I was here, before I went to Wien, (DUH!) where I lost that hat. In Costa Rica people lose their umbrellas every second, which also happens here in Spring and Fall, but nothing like the rate of lost hats, GLOVES and scarfs. Gloves actually lead the rate, specially the annoying case of losing only one of your gloves, which usually is the glove of the hand you are most handy with. Why? Well, try to get money out of the wallet with your gloved hand and you see why. Gloves make you a bit clumsy since you lose grip and sensitivity, so people end up taking of their left of right glove depending on the case to take the wallet outl pay, show their commuted transportation ticket or credentials and so.
I'm having a terrific time and I'm gorging on food like a pig. All my favorite food in one place, so no wonder. I've been doing a tad of concience and am trying to return to my normal eating habits before I'm banned from flying because *I* exceed the weight limit, however, with töltött káposzta, chesnut cream, mushroms with breadcrums and Tartar sauce, this DELICIOUS bread made with
kovász and not with yeast, the somlói galuska, túrós rétes, nokedli, pörkölt... the stag meat with bacon... bread with goose liver lard, bread with pork lard, bread with pork lard and raw onions!... Fuck it, I'll fatten up and then, when I'm back in Costa Rica, away from all this insanely delicious food, I'll go back to my regular 62Kg.
Tomorrow my train leave at 23 hours to Bulgaria. Yeah, late. I've got myself a sleeping... well, a place in the sleeping wagon. First time! Must be awesome! On my way back, I've also separated myself a nuke. I have enough with sleeping in a plane, and though the seats in a train are far more comfortable, I wanted to try these out. It will be an adventure!
There are a few disturbing news regarding this trip. First, the railroad workers are talking about a strike again, but I have put my hopes on God and asked him nicely to arrance my travel, so nothing bad happens, and so I can go and come back safely. So I really hope the railroad workers will start their strike after I came back.
The other bad news are that it seems there's a ciclon somewhere between the Bosphoros and Barbarelle, or some B-named place. I checked on the
weather, and some sites say it will be nice. Sure, under 0, but nice. No
"Oh Hell, this is the end, my friend" kind of forecasts. I'll have to buy myself tomorrow a few very thick and warm wool stockings tomorrow, but I expect a nice rtavel with no setbacks.
I tend to worry, but then I slap myself and ask:
"Can you do something about it?"
"No."
"Well, why don't you leave it to the One who can? Stop meddling in other people's business! Go pray, ask God to help you with this, and since He knows how NOISY you can be, He will make sure you go and come back safely. He has helped you all this time, haven't He?"
"Well, yes..."
"Then stop worrying and pay attention to the things you CAN do something about! Like that utterly useless thing Mile and you have to do for that utterly useless Thesis Workshop..."
"You see why I rather worry about the weather..."
Things then get a bit nasty, but then everything is fine.
One other thing. Yesterday at night I had a panic attack. I was scared to death to go back to Costa Rica. The crime, the things that have been happening, and particularly the things that have happenned to my friends and I in these past two-three months. Yesterday all these went around in my head, and though I know I have been so lucky, and God held us so tight in His hand in these perilous moments, I felt like a tiny child who really was about to cry screaming: "I don't want to go, Mamma!" And I don't. Oh dear, I don't. Fear took over me and I couldn't see a single way how could I live safely. If I took and apartment to live by myself, I felt I would be more exposed, and where should I go? Cartago? All Heredia seems suddenly like crime turf in my eyes. Alajuela is out of question. San José? Where? It's all crime ridden. Even Escazú. I thought about getting a car, even some beaten up old cart, but I fear I'll be stopped when I'm opening the gate to park it at home, like it happened in braod daylight with some neighours, and maybe my family is taken hostage, like it happened to this neigbours of ours.
I almost ended up in tears and prayed to the Lord to protect me and let me leave that forsaken country as fast as possible. I really, really want to live here. This is my Home.
There are good things in Costa Rica too, like my dear friend Victor, whom I'd love to take with me, but then again, probably he will soon manage to relocate himself in this continent, the UK, probably, and so we won't be far from each other. I love really, going out with him, but where could we safely go and enjoy a glass of Chardonay without feeling threatened by the criminals lurking in the shadows?
Victor. He gets me thinking. He has definitivelly become one of my best friends, inspite of the efforts some have made to keep us apart. I'm not sure it's because we are alike or anything, but because of the way he is. He's a true gentleman, soft in manner and refined in taste. We might not agree in our taste in men, but he's such a respectful person, wellspoken, wellmannered and such an excellent host I can't but admire him. Focused, clear minded, dedicated... there are so few people who at his short age have such a clear and rational vision of their future. He has been born for success, and all those who can't see that, who plot against him is because, as we have so often proved it, are envious and can't stand the fact that they lack the stamina and the determination this young man has. I'm honored to have his friendship.