A series of gloomy days...

Recently, the weather in Budapest has been less than ideal. Imagine cold, wet temperatures and lots of wind. Wait - I'm from Chicago - I'm used to this! I mustered the strength to go outside with my camera, so here is a compilation of the last couple weeks.

The Belvárosi Plébánia templom is a church that exudes baroque architecture. It also has remains of 12th century Romanian walls, a 15th century fresco, and an Islamic alcove that actually faces Mecca.

I walked across the Erzsébet Bridge to see the Szent Gellért emlékmü, which I quickly learned is the most un-photogenic monument ever.

The walk up towards the monument was beautiful and yet again required more hiking. I can get a workout here without even planning on it!

I usually can't decipher the graffiti in Budapest, but this example is quite clear.

Szent Gellért - a fanatical convent who was thrown off this hill for reasons I am unsure of.

The first statue I've seen which is impossible to see all 360 degrees of. Intriguing and frustrating...

Took this one while leaning the majority of my body weight over a small iron fence blocking off the steep decline and highway below. Yet, still no face...

Oh well, I'll just go find sneaky views of Parliament!

Visegràd

Did I have a half litre of Stella Artois on draft for less than $2 at this mountaintop bar at this table with this castle in the background? Why yes, as a matter of fact, I did.

Last weekend, on the most beautiful autumn day anyone could have asked for, some friends and I decided to take a day trip to a northern Hungarian town called Visegràd. We rode a bus for about an hour and a half for 325HUF, which is $1.80. I think all of us assumed someone else in our group knew where we were supposed to get off the bus, but no one had any clue. We ended up getting off the bus after we actually should have, and walked about a mile and a quarter back into town.

However, the walk was beautiful - no complaints!

Our intention for the trip was to go zip-lining through the mountains. After arriving, we made our way up the mountain - on foot. Without any solid directions - which seems to be the way things are done in Hungary - we first walked through the grounds of this 13th century tower.

I later learned that this building has walls that can be up to eight meters thick and used to be home to Vlad the Impaler.

Amongst five people and two guidebooks, we only had one small hint that the zip-lining place actually existed. One sentence in one of the books hinted that the opportunity to zip-line through the mountains was possible if you hike all the way to the top - but with no inclination as to how to get up there.

Not willing to go home defeated by the inconsistencies of American publishers, we decided to take our chances and hike up an unclear path in a deserted part of the forest.

The light was so beautiful within the woods; it was bright enough but overcast - the perfect spot for a photo shoot!

Absolute and total confusion.

It's impossible to convey how steep parts of this climb actually were. It literally felt like we had to climb on all fours with no support at some parts of the journey. I was so nervous that I was going to fall and smash my camera because I don't even have good balance to start with, but I took it like a man and was able to get my first real work out in six weeks.

After a few rest stops, a near death asthma attack and an "Anchorman"-like jump of accomplishment we finally found our destination. Believe it or not, there is a mysterious zip-lining business (that isn't advertised AT ALL (so non-American)) in the mountains of Visegràd. We had some time to kill before we were able to go, so what better of an idea than to have a beer.

The perfect place to relax and stretch those muscles before our adventure back down the mountain. This was a really nice establishment; it was empty and you might think that it looks expensive, but it was actually really cheap!

Since I'm not clinically insane, I didn't bring my camera with me while zip-lining. All I can say is that the views were breath-taking. I have never seen anything more beautiful in my life and I will never forget it even though I don't have photos to show. Also, there was an extra element of adventure because we could not communicate with our guides. Hand signals and body language are a bit more hilarious when you're in a harness and trying to ask how to not kill yourself at high altitudes and extreme speeds.

We made it back down the mountain and had some time to kill before hopping on a boat to cruise the Danube back to Budapest.

The town was quiet, almost empty, and very old.

 

You can see a lot of houses in the mountainside. By the time we left, the area had the most appealing smell of fireplaces burning wood, and you could see smoke coming up from most of the homes. It was so peaceful and romantic.

The day was a great success, and we went home very happy!

Miskolc

As the sun began it's descent, we made it to Miskolc. Miskolc is the second largest city in Hungary, and the area we went to seemed right out of a movie. It is a gypsy slum which I can only closely compare to scenes I've seen of slums in Africa, India, or Brazil.

In this photo you can see the degree of segregation in the gypsy slum. Behind the fence, there is a brand new chain gas station representing the development of the city of Miskolc. However, in the foreground the garden of a family barely getting by struggles to flourish.

Here is somebody's yard. Notice the lawn which is a combination of grass and dirt; the laundry line with minimal dirty clothing; the guard dog; the sporadic gutter; the crumbling facade and the holes in the exterior.

The grave in the foreground which says "fiam," meaning, "my son."

Notice the house behind these kids: the fence is made up of miscellaneous pieces of wood or plastic and there is no coverage in the space for windows. Also, I thought it was interesting that there is a satellite dish. I asked my guide about this, who has also done extensive ethnographic work in Chicago's south side, and he compared satellite dishes to fancy cars. He was basically saying that somebody might need food stamps but somehow own an Escalade, just like how people in this slum will need welfare but find the cash to pay for digital cable.

After arriving, we were approached by a man with one and half legs in a wheelchair that looked half his age. He told us about how difficult it is for him to get around his neighborhood because of the gravel, dirt and cracked cement roads and floors. He brought us to a couple of other people, all around the age of 60 but nearing death due to lack of necessary means for taking care of themselves. One woman is blind and has to maneuver herself around conditions like these, thus causing her to constantly fall and break her bones since her living space is deteriorating around her. She has no means of getting to any hospital, let alone any way to call them, so all she can do it wrap herself up and hope everything heals okay. Another woman is suffering from heart disease, and she ran out of money for medication and can't find a suitable means for getting any more. Not only do the people of this slum have to deal with their worsening health conditions, they also have to pay to live in these "homes."

Probably the most shocking event in the slum of Miskolc for me was when I was approached by a slew of giggling young girls asking me, through a translator, to take photos of them. Of course, I happily agreed, and as I set myself up to shoot away I found that the girls were posing for me as if I were doing a spread for Hustler. It was weird and I felt dirty doing it but I couldn't stop because they made it seem so normal.

These girls haven't been to school in years and likely spend their days watching satellite television. I assume this is how they learned these poses, and with a lack of cultural capital it's no wonder they are subject to sanctioned ignorance towards social cues understood by most of the world. I showed them the photos directly after I took them, and it was like they were seeing their reflection for the first time. It's the most hopeless feeling to think that what I experienced during this trip is just a small representation of what people wake up to everyday. Upward mobility is so limited in this part of the world based on forces that are beyond the control of citizens, humanitarian organizations, and sociologists that it was so hard to leave knowing the most I can do at this point in my life is try my best to understand.

Csenyéte Part II

During the second trip to Csenyéte I fortunately was able to get a lot more of a close look on the home life of the people living in this village. We visited for a second time on a Saturday, so kids were out playing but parents were nowhere to be found.

A brother and sister (I assume) curiously staring at the group walking by. The little boy was wearing a baby "one-sie" that wasn't snapped and without anything underneath it. The girl was wearing a sundress that was not her size; the neckline fell about two thirds of the way down her ribcage.

He fell and cried, but there was no one around that came to console him besides his sister, who can't be more than four years old.

That's their house. You can see in one side and out the other. Shortly it will be winter in Csenyéte and it's residents will do everything they can to make it through by layering clothing, staying near the fire and eating minimally. Like I said before, the most popular method to get in and out of Csenyéte is by foot, and that is nearly impossible in winter. People rely heavily on their level of preparation and kindness and help from neighbors. However, families are large and rations are small, so there is never enough food and warmth for everybody.

Children care for children in Csenyéte.

The shoes of the girls in the fourth grade class.

The most hardened looking toddler I've ever seen in my life.

The children's faces were covered in dirt. Their teeth were brown or yellow, and they had an odor that reminded me of homeless men from Chicago. These small details are all signs of the poor living conditions, and even greater signs that families have bigger problems to care about than the health of their children, which is really hard to imagine.

Shortly after we arrived, the entire village was following us. Pictured are the stragglers, as there was a slew of other people with us already.

Some boys enthusiastically playing with us.

We were as intrigued by them as they were by us.

Peasant Village

We started our second day bright and early to spend time in a peasant village, Csenyéte again, and a gypsy slum.

A look out tower in which you can see the small villages in the area and Slovakia to the North.

It's always 12:15 in the peasant village (without a name). It's hard to tell in the photo, but the clock on the steeple actually isn't a clock at all, it's just a painting.

This is a memorial for the people from the village that were killed in WWII. The town is so small that this list contains most of the people in the town at that time.

The village from a hilltop.

Neviczky Agoston 1841-1909

From the road, I was really impressed by how great all the flowers in the cemetery looked. I assumed that the villagers highly respect the dead and take care to plant flowers often. Upon closer inspection, I learned that all the flowers are plastic.

Baby graves.