When I first booked my ticket to Amsterdam, which was super early in May because I desperately needed to leave NYC, I wasn’t sure when the semester ended. I simply looked at the UvA calendar, which is the academic calendar at the University of Amsterdam, my larger university, and saw that it was on January 29th. I figured, okay that’s long but I guess, doable. It was only till later that my silly and eager self found out that the January month was completely optional. Oops, I had said.
With everyone leaving right before or around Christmas, I figured I had to make the most of my time here. So I convinced my best friend Sima to come visit me and travel with me. I also tried to convince my other best friend Elizabeth to come travel, but she only decided to visit for a week, as she had an internship to start.
So Sima and I, along with our friend Katia, decided to travel together to three cities we thought would be worthwhile: Prague, Vienna & Budapest. Little did I know how much I would fall in love with one in particular – Budapest.
Both Prague and Vienna were such beautiful cities, but something about Budapest felt all too familiar. The people, the atmosphere, the common struggle felt all too close to my own people – the Poles. Of course, it shouldn’t really have surprised me as these both were countries – Hungary and Poland – were occupied by the Soviet Union in a very similar way. After the resistance and after Stalin’s death, a much less harsh communism regime took over and there was room for a voice. They, unlike many of the other Soviet satellite states, were also very Catholic, so simply religious in general. This remains true until today. Poland and Hungary are one of the two only Catholic practicing countries in Central/Eastern Europe, while most of Eastern Europe remains very non-practicing religious.
But what to me was even more similar was the culture, the language. The language especially because the language itself was so very, very different. But the language – the sound, the sound was the same melodic sound. And the expressions of the people. The faces. Hardworking faces. Solemn faces. Kind faces. The foooooooood, well the food was confusing because it was filled with the country’s pepper, the red pepper – or paprika, as they call it. So, a bit of it reminded me of a Latino-Hispanic country – and don’t get me wrong, the Hungarians, at least in Budapest, looooved Latino culture too (it very much flourished the city) – but, it also flourished with the food of my people. Goulash & letcho – mmmmmmm.
So why a common struggle? Well, because neither countries have had an easy history. They have been attempted to be annihilated or taken over because they were so important in European politics & the fight over land.
I would highly recommend that the Poles really try to create some natural hot springs, because Lord Jesus, those Turkish baths melt you into happiness.
I loved Budapest & I will continue to do so. It is a city melting with culture and vibrancy.
