Wednesday 16 March 2011

It was written

One of the benefits of the Internet age for expatriates is being able to tune in to domestic radio stations from anywhere around the world, rather than having to rely on the vagaries of shortwave reception and local FM relays. So here in Budapest I start my working day with BBC Radio 4, "Farming Today" and "Today".

I can also catch other programmes, and occasionally listen to Melvyn Bragg's "In Our Time", always enjoying the experience but often ending up feeling that I have not really quite understood what the intellectuals he lines up have discussed. Such was the case with last week's 500th edition which dealt with free will. The discussion centred around the idea of determinism, that ever since the Big Bang everything that has happened has been determined by the laws of nature, and that we therefore do not make our own decisions at all but that they are made for us, and that free will is, in the words of the 80s disco classic, 'just an illusion'.

If I had known that I would have gone to work last Tuesday better prepared. At midday Helen rang me to say that she had fallen off her bicycle, and when I picked her up discovered that she had been knocked unconscious, needed stitches in her chin, had broken a tooth and a bone in her hand, which meant that instead of flying to India for a three-week yoga retreat she was to spend a week in Szent Janos Hospital here in Budapest.

Now, often the thought of having to stay in a hospital in a foreign country is something of a nightmare, and so it was for us. We had heard stories about the inadequacies of the local healthcare system and feared the worst. And at first sight Szent Janos seemed to meet the descriptions we had heard. Old buildings, run-down facilities, and a sense of slight edge of chaos.

However, once our initial shock at the incident had subsided and Helen had settled into her room, it all seemed much better. Once the staff had gotten over some initial fear of dealing with a foreigner and Helen had expanded her Hungarian vocabulary so that she could describe her feelings and ask for basic needs, things improved considerably. As the days went by it became apparent that the staff worked incredibly hard in very difficult surroundings, and that while the buildings might not be state of the art the staff were extremely competent and caring.

As with any hospital stay, we were glad when it was over, and she is now home recuperating.

Quite what the fates have in store for us next I don't know, but I hope it is something rather more pleasurable than they dealt out last week.

Tuesday 15 March 2011

Spring springs up

On Thursday, March 10th, I hurried home, down jacket zipped up to my neck, scarf pulled tight and thermal Buff on my head and still arrived home cold. The nighttime temperature dropped to about zero, which is what it has been since the beginning of December.

On Saturday, March 12th, I went out for a early morning run on Margit Sziget in a T-shirt, and came home sweating. The little line of red alcohol in my landing thermometer showed about 16°.

Spring has come to Budapest, at long last.

Unlike the temperate maritime climate of Britain, where the temperature climbs slowly and hesitantly from about 5° to 20° over the course of many months, in Hungary's land-locked continental climate the temperature suddenly changes and winter gives way to spring almost instantaneously.

After the months of freezing cold and grey skies it feels like such a relief. To be able to go out and not think about thick coats and gloves but to walk along a street and feel the sun on your face is such a liberation.

There may be some chillier, damp weather forecast in the next few days, but we feel like spring has definitely arrived.

Wednesday 9 March 2011

Clash of cultures weekend

Last weekend was a cross-cultural weekend.

Tired after a busy week, I fancied slumping in a pub with a few glasses of beer, but 'pubs' are few and far between in Budapest: it may have some great bars, but not many that are like my favourite British pubs. The bars here that target the expatriate market try to create a pub-like feel but usually fail dismally, and I'm also not that keen to seek out expatriate company.

However, the Caledonia in behind the opera house is a bit of an exception. The people running it have really managed to create a pub-like atmosphere and while it has quite a lot of British-type people as clients there are also quite a lot of Hungarians who seem to enjoy what it has to offer. So Helen and I hung out there for a couple of hours on Friday night, listening to the singers, covering David Gray-type songs, and having a few half-litres. And one feature that pubs could introduce, as far as I am concerned, is waiter service. No having to elbow your way through the regulars who consider it their right to block the bar to anyone who does not drink there several times a week would be a definite plus to the pub experience.

So Friday night was imported British culture, but Saturday night was Hungarian. We went to the Budapest Congress and World Trade Centre to see a performance by Ghymes. I had never actually heard any of their music before going, but had seen their CDs in shops, had read good things about them and they were playing in a large venue, so thought, let's go.

After their first two songs I thought I might have made a mistake. The lead singer looked like a poor man's Meat Loaf, and the music sounded like second rate rock, but then it changed into something much more interesting and beautiful. The band apparently has roots in Slovakian Hungarians, so has something of an external take on Hungarian culture. Sometimes it sounded like the Hungarian folk music I have heard elsewhere and sometimes it sounded as if it came from some indistinct point in Eastern Europe or Asia, particularly when their songs drew on the harshly tuned electric violin, saxophone or clarinet. My own favourite was "Tanc a hoban", "Dance in the snow", a duet which brought on stage a dramatically beautiful, tall, blonde female singer.

And the audience clearly loved them. It was a shame that it was a sit down venue, as I would have really liked to have been able to commune with the music in a freer way, but it was not to be. Three encores, and then we all spilled out into the freezing Buda night.

I often find it difficult to answer the question, "What music do you like?", as I just like anything with 'soul'. What that means, I don't know, but I do know Ghymes had it.