The Last Day in Hungary and Trip reflections

LAST REAL DAY IN EUROPE

There's a good saying out there: Fish and guests start to smell after three days. I suspect it is a good time to go home. Not because of the Nagy family—they are wonderful, but I think Eurotrip plus my presence has disrupted my daughter's wa (I wonder what the Hungarian word for this is??) and that she needs to get back into a routine for her last month here—of course, I say that and she's heading with me to Budapest because she is on her way to her final big Rotary function this weekend.

This is Bozda (Elderberry).  She's a 7-8yr old beagle.  She quickly learned to like me because I'm a sucker for belly rubbing.

L-R: Brigitta, Bozda, Blanka, Tamas (unaware I was taking a photo!), Eva

Same people--but Tamas knows!

Do Hungarians have a term for 'chillaxin''?

Different light setting for the camera :)

This is Gabor (who helped take the photos).  He didn't believe I'd actually use his selfie.  Tsk, tsk, tsk.

 

We packed this morning—putting as many of her clothes as advisable in my duffel bag. The question is—did it go over the 50lb limit? I don't think so, but lugging that all over Hungary sucks. I can only imagine what life is like for soldiers wearing about 30lbs of armor, a 50lb pack, and a weapon, etc...ugh. After we were packed, Brigitte's host-father, Tamas, took us to a Hungarian buffet. It's a little different than an American one—you reuse your plate, there are fewer items, the desserts are in the middle (you work your way from either end towards the middle), and there are NO drinks. I didn't see anyone in the buffet with a drink. Tamas asked me to try a ton of stuff, but I don't remember many of their names. I had some ground fish and vegetables, fried in a ball—reminding me of the sauerkraut balls I eat once/year at Origins; I had the Hungarian version of wiener schnitzel, served with breaded/fried broccoli. I had a noodle and ham dish and then a repeat of the noodle dish Eva made my first night in Debrecen, though the restaurant's was nowhere, nowhere, near as good. Hungarians like to put rum in their chocolate, so my brownie tasted like rum (bleh) and I had a couple pieces of cake, but they were very dry—not good at all. Tamas said this is a problem with a lot of baking all over Hungary.

When that was done, Brigitte and I went to see her school.

(Compared to Erick's this is state-of-the-art.  Erick's school in Poland was a Communist Fuhrerbunker style building--no windows, no escape)

We couldn't go in because they were doing the senior exams which will determine which colleges students are permitted to attend next fall. They can only go to one which invites them, so these exams are as important as the Deutsches Abitur!! So, instead, I got to meet several of Brigitte's friends.

(The one on the far right is from Italy/AFS)

Two were AFS students from Argentina and Italy but they had class so they could only stay for a moment. The other three were Rotary kids—one from Brazil, one from Mexico, and the Australian from Day One. The Aussie came in January, so she has a long time left in-country while the other two leave the same day Brigitte does, so even though many Rotary students are already leaving, she'll have friends here until she leaves. We went to a place called Yummy!! --it serves frozen yogurt with weird art including a sign saying “Steam Punk Love”...o-kayyyy.  And just as you'd expect—they all act like teenage girls. It's good to see Brigitte in a natural habitat, to know she's doing well. Dads worry. She doesn't understand that though.

                                                L-R: Brigitte, Brazil, Mexico, Australia

When that finished, we got our stuff, left a thank you present for Tamas and Eva, and took a bus to the train station where we boarded a very crowded Inter-City train for Budapest.  We checked in to the hotel, then went to a restaurant called Season's.  It was very good.  Brigitte was even impressed that the Hungarian dishes were actually made the right way rather than for "Budapest tourists".  We had a sausage platter as an appetizer, then she had lecszo--which is basically Hungarian chili--it was very good.  I had a steak pasta with corn, baby tomatoes, and parsley which we washed down with lemonade infused (that's the right word of they put actual fruit pieces in, right?) with orange and lime.  The waiter was great--and Brigitte had a long conversation with him in Hungarian (he didn't switch to English like many Europeans do if their native tongue isn't spoken perfectly)--turns out he lived in Kansas for a year.  He then switched to English to include me and asked what I'd liked, etc--and then offered us a small sifter's worth of peach palinka.  Brigitte is legal age now in Hungary, but I could tell it was weird drinking 'hard alcohol' with her dad.  It was quite tasty--limited alcohol burn and a lot of peach taste.  Dang, when did she grow up and become old enough she could enjoy a night out like that with her father??? Sigh.

 

This is back at the hotel.  Hungarian is definitely a rough language, so now I have two children who have learned insane languages (Erick knows Polish).

 





At 3am, we left for the airport.  Budapest's downtown is a bit hard to navigate at night without having an east-west reference from the sun, so we accidentally went the wrong way on a bus!  Brigitte caught the error pretty quickly, and so we were back on the right track.  Unfortunately, we missed the connecting bus (ARGH!) by about two minutes--so we had to take the last eight kilometers by taxi ($20--5000 forints).  And then...goodbye.

 

I was unsuccessful avoiding tears, even with her logical comment, "Dad, I'll be home in a month".  But it's my little girl, the one who used to sit on my lap, the one who used to ride on my shoulders--and here I was, leaving her to use public transit in a city of 500,000+ to head back to a hotel before taking a train somewhere else to take another train to a Hungarian Rotary conference.  It's rough as a parent to realize that at a practical level, you are no longer needed.  I don't have a little girl anymore.  I have a young woman.

REFLECTIONS

Odd things pop to mind with Hungary, differences with what I am used to or what I remember about Erick's time in Poland. Please realize, these are not really meant to be judgmental Europe is a very different place than I'm used to in the central US. So in no particular order....

Perception of America: I hadn't realized it, but Rotary International is incredibly unfair. Students studying in the US are permitted a tour of America. They can choose from the US East Coast, the West Coast, or they can go to Hawaii. Notice there's no Midwest? Yeah, me, too. So Rotary treats the Midwest as 'flyover country'. And that's too bad—because the image Rotary exchange students get is that there's nothing worthwhile in the US Midwest, but when I talked with Blanka and Gabor (her boyfriend), they said “That sounds like Hungary!”--what better way to show America than the size of a farm, to go to a state fair, see the big, cool Midwest cities like Chicago, St. Louis, and New Orleans? Sigh.

Hungarian food: It's tasty, but everything is flavored with sour cream, fat of any sort, or for desserts a ton of chocolate and sugar. It was a bit much for me over four days. There's really no way to describe it without trying it. The best were Eva's pogotchka (amazing awesome cheese biscuits that aren't biscuits) and a chicken wrapped in bacon dish she seasons with paprika. Brigitte also says there are a bunch of Hungarian terms for discussing how fat meat is—it tells you something about their history and what was necessary in the old days for them to get through lean years or cold seasons, but only one word that defines anything baked as dessert (so 'cake' is the same as 'cookie' or 'danish').

Paternalistic: Men are always right. Hungary is very paternalistic and it took several men aback when Brigitte did all the talking rather than me. Worse, when she paid the bill. You could see them thinking, “This is outrageous!” If there's a bright side to it, it is that men will go out of their way to offer polite greetings to women or hold doors for them.

Prostitutes: We saw a couple on our road trip with Eva. They sit in the little turnoff/rest areas and wait for men to pull in then they get their transaction. The man drives off and that's it. It's the ONLY drive-thru service I saw in all of Europe.

Fashion—I don't understand European fashion. Or maybe I do, in which case I don't understand American fashion. In Hungary, women will wear stockings 98% of the time with a skirt or dress—even in open toed shoes or with sandals. Everyone wears skin tight clothes. Brigitte said that's how we could be spotted as Americans—because I'm wearing comfortable pants. That's the thing—everyone wears skin tight pants even if they are not a good look for them—because, by God they like them and what other people think be damned. That's why I like it—all Europeans are willing to do their own thing—within countries, between countries, creating a giant mosh of people to watch. Americans though, Americans talk about individuality, yet take great pains to look alike and follow the latest trends. So Europeans are conformists who then try and look individual while Americans are individualists desperately seeking to conform. Right.

How tiring it is trying to understand a foreign language: I have no idea how exchange students do it for 10+ months. I'm exhausted listening to multiple languages and it has been just one week of time, and the energy necessary to comprehend and learn the most basic words—ugh, my brain hurts, and yet, here you have kids from all over the world in Hungary, learning Hungarian (Magyar) and often bits of the home languages of the other students they meet. It. Is. Draining. Respect kids who used a study-abroad experience for the right reasons. They are amazing and will do great things in life.

Proud of Brigitte: I tell her this, but she looks at me weird. I tell her I worry about her—again, a weird look. Ahh, the joys of being a teen (she hates hearing that, too—and I remember at that age, it's hard to realize your parents have lived that age and understand some things about it). But she left the US in August of 2014, flew across the Atlantic, landed in a country where she didn't know the language, and in ten months, she's learned one of the world's toughest languages, learned how to navigate mass transit in a dozen countries, met people from twenty or more countries, and along with the language, learned the culture as well—give her another year in Hungary and she could pass for being local. That ain't half bad.

Everyone uses parks: I grew up in a big urban area (250,000ish). Few people use parks. In many cities, parks are where trouble takes place. I know, I can name places where that isn't true also—but in Europe, whether Frankfurt, Budapest, Debrecen—everyone uses parks for picnics, to talk, play chess, train dogs. They remain open community areas which are (generally speaking) well taken care of. Heck—in Debrecen, the stadium for the pro soccer team (five time national champs) has ramps around it that serve as running track for joggers—open for public use.

Smoke on the water, in the air, on the ground...: I think the only thing I would change in Hungary is the rules on smoking. Dear God do a ton of people smoke. I'm thankful Brigitte's host family does not. She said that because of the prevalence of smokers, quite a few exchange students picked up the habit. Given the number of dead in my family from lung issues---I'm thankful this isn't an issue for us with her imminent return. Of course, people smoke because they are cheap. If I read things right, a pack of cigarettes is about 250 forint—90 cents. Compare that to the $7-8 prices in the US.

Toilets: I love the two buttons—that makes total sense. The problem is the lack of public restrooms. I understand there's a cost, but still—put bathrooms out there, at least once every couple hundred kilometers! I hate going without drinking anything all day and getting dehydrated simply because there won't be any toilets to use.

Lack of physical affection shown: I was surprised by the lack of physical affection in Hungary, especially as that was an opposite of Poland. It's obviously a cultural thing and I shouldn't be that surprised. After all, my own father's side of the family never showed physical affection. I prefer the other side of things—hug people, kiss them, touch them, especially at home (I'm not a big PDA fan).

AC power conversion: It was interesting to note that some homes and business buildings have DC->AC converter units in them. I don't think I'd realized that the old Soviet-bloc nations ran on direct current. It does explain some of the wiring and rewiring though.

Hungarian door locks: I love a bunch of these—on old doors, they still use the big classic skeleton key type keys, even for some houses and regular businesses. Sure, they are more unwieldy than 'normal' size house keys, but they look wayyyy cooler.

Outside window shutters: Both Germany and Hungary featured outside shutters you could move up or down from inside—as if operating indoor blinds. These were cool and I wish we had them in the US. They'd be great for keeping snow/wind away from windows, and in summer, could be closed to prevent Kaiju and Jaeger from 'protecting' our house from blowing trash or stationary basketballs.

I'm sure there are more...that is the beauty of visiting different cultures.  There are billions upon billions of ways to get through life.  Learning about them all is a great thing.

We Interrupt the Conclusion of this Travel Story for a Rant....

Ok, rather than complete the last travel blog quite yet--since I don't have the bandwidth to upload pictures...time for a rant.

Budapest time right about now it is 8ish.  I got to the airport there at 5am, so I've been traveling 15 hours.  So far, my time expenditure:

30 minutes - European security
12 hours, 30 minutes - travel
2 hours - dealing with entering the US

Think about that.  And all the US did was put me in a line to look at my passport and that I have an air ticket to actually go to the US, then...look make me use a computer system which queued me to line up to...have my passport checked and permit me to undergo TSA searching where I had to stand in line again because there's some sort of terror threat.

I understand security--in Budapest, they checked my bag, caught the chemicals in the watercolor paint my daughter accidentally left in my backpack and the vitamin paste Guenter Doil gave me.  In Budapest, they actually sampled the vitamin paste to make sure it couldn't be used as plastique or anything like that.  Now look at the total time from entering security to reaching the gate--30 minutes.

Here near the US, they ran my backpack through--didn't question the chemicals in the paint, didn't catch the vitamin paste--but they noticed the water bottle 1-2ml too big for regulation.  Out it went.  I just figured that the small water bottles provided by airlines would fall under the guidelines set by the US government.  Nope.  So I was given the choice of pitching it or going back to the start of the TSA process (45 minutes earlier), drinking it, and going through the line again.

God bless America.
Of course--here's the question for you to consider.  How many Congressmen go through this?  How many Senators?  Think the TSA gives 'men in uniform' an easy way through--you betcha!  And while I'm tossing out my water, an old woman in a wheelchair is searched, lights up the metal detector like she's Strontium-90, and when she says they are replacement joints, they let her go on through because she's a little old lady.  Yup.

Look--I understand rules and why there's a need for security.  But here's a reality--when you make exceptions for pilots, crew members, active duty servicemen, old people, etc...why have the rules?  If I'm going to knock a plane out of the sky--I'm convincing a soldier to do it for me (or one of those other categories).

Oh wait--did I mention the guy on the monitor got busy talking with a friend and a couple bags went through without being looked at--hey, they didn't set off the detector, they MUST be completely safe, right?

This happened the last time I went to Europe four years ago--customs drug-dog sniffed, bomb-dog sniffed my bags, opened them, etc--after I went through German security (and I get that with customs looking for people sneaking stuff in), but then--off to the 90 minute TSA line to make sure I'm not carrying something terrorists could use.  If the Germans and US customs didn't catch it, what's the chance that the fat 65yr old guy is going to?

Here's the reality--on September 11, 2001, Osama bin Laden won.  That's right--he won.  Americans willingly gave up their freedom due to a fear of some other massive once-in-a-lifetime event.  Most Americans accept NSA snooping on their email/phone conversations, many see nothing wrong with targeted IRS audits of people who actively oppose the Patriot Act or other security measures.  Americans accept the sham protection of the TSA--which continually sees things (oops) get through like knives, pepper spray, etc.  And they accept it--willingly, because 9/11 couple happen again.

Think how much gets justified by that in the name of 'protecting people'--we've fought a decade in Iraq (because there 'were' WMDs...yet we don't go into N.Korea or Iran where we damned well know they have WMD....hmmmm....), we have those other restrictions, we've got colleges owning Humvees for their police, a school district (LA) owning a battering ram, and something like a 1,000% increase in the number of cities with special ops squads, snipers, etc.

This country was founded by men who believed that the greatest enemy to liberty was the government they were creating, a government being designed to try and check the slide into authoritarianism and centralized power that  history shows happens to every other republic at some point.  They despised centralized power, they despised the idea of the government restricting liberties--life, liberty, pursuit of happiness--the three inalienable rights.  See security mentioned?  Nope.  See 'paternalism' or 'central government' mentioned--nope.  Liberty.   And because too many people choose to be happy with Netflix or whatever--the slide continues.

I love the United States--it is the greatest country in the world, and the ideal that the Founding Fathers created is nobility in the highest.  But traveling?  It shows you the gross incompetence of the government, the centralization of power, and the stifling effects of bureaucracy on the greatness of America.

Want to take on China?  Want to stay ahead of everyone?  Get Washington DC out of regulations and bureaucracy.  Agitate for ending gerrymandered districts, agitate, agitate, constantly agitate.

Rant over.

PS.  Just to make sure this gets read by the right people: bomb, terror plot, Allah Akhbar, anthrax, poison, code, bin Laden, Allah....hope the gov't pension is worth it to sit there, read this, and do nothing about being part of oppression.

(Guess the rant wasn't over)

Last Full Day in Debrecen...Hungary Day Negy.

Last full day in Debrecen and we hit the works.  If you google "What to see in Debrecen"--we saw everything on the list except the baths, and could've done that if I had a bathing suit.  For the goodwill of Hungarian-American relations, I did not.



This is the Nagytemplom (that means 'big church').  It's the biggest church in Debrecen and because of the yellow paint and lack of external crosses--that tells you it is Calvinist/Reformist.  Also important, Calvin and Hobbes is considered a funny cartoon in Hungary...then again they like Garfield.

This is the Princess in Yellow (which makes me the King in Yellow--Iai Hastur!...go ahead, google it, you're confused, I know....).  This is her favorite building in Debrecen--later on after we toured it, we spent an hour or so as artists.  I sketched the church a couple different ways while Brigitte did a watercolor of the church.

This is the city crest done as a mosaic on the square in front of the Nagytemplom.  It was done in 2000.  It's bad etiquette to walk on it.

This is a statue honoring Kossuth and 1848.  At one point during the Hungarian Revolution, the Hungarian capital and Kossuth resided in Debrecen.

This is the view from the top of the Nagytemplom to the east.

Facing north.

West towards Soviet-style housing.

South.

As a note--it was challenging getting to the top.  I hit my head hard on an unexpected low beam and later getting through one passage, my shoulders were against both walls.  I'm not sure my oldest son could've gotten through that passage.

This is a view of the organ and altar (though I think Calvinists don't call them altars....)

In the US, we have a ton of places saying things like "George Washington slept here" because he's a critical figure in US history.  We do the same for people like Abe Lincoln.  Well, Hungarian hero Kossuth sat in this chair when he attended a service in the Nagytemplom and the sign above the chair notes just that!

Long ago, when the Calvinist church started, a Pope visited Debrecen.  Disgusted by Calvin and his heretical views, the pope rammed a stick into the ground and said "This Calvinism has as much of a chance of surviving as this stick does."  Well, a few hundred years later, you can see the stick did just fine.  So has Calvinism, and in some religious circles, Debrecen is known as "The Calvinist Rome".

This is a church (templom) near a big Debrecen cemetery.  Unlike many European countries with little land available, Debrecen has land and 'typical' cemeteries.  When someone dies, they hold the ceremony here in this building and then pall bearers carry the deceased out into the graveyard to his/her final burial spot.  The picture isn't great for showing it, but the roof is blue, like the elephant building at the zoo and the Fisherman's Tower--any color other than a red-brown or black-gray is very rare in E.Europe for a roof.

Everywhere we went that was someplace 'serious'--a church or here at this cemetery, there were flowers.  I suspect Mrs. Dietz would've liked the flowers here (and that's why this picture is in the blog...duh).

These are rich people graves.  Most are above ground in little crypts.  Families buy plots in groups to make sure they are together.  These plots are immaculate--this is a sign of a good amount of wealth...

This is a poorer section.  You can tell because the grass isn't doing well, but mainly because the plots have been turned into gardens in most cases.  Things are messier.  Frankly, I like this--the thought of graves being gardens seems like a good thing.

I thought the picture turned out better--so I only took one. Dammit.  This is Brigitte and her voice instructor, Hajnalka Tuscon.  Hajnalka has an amazing voice--we heard her from out on the street before we entered.  My daughter doesn't go overboard on praise, so when she tells me, "Dad, she's probably the best music teacher I know of"--that's high praise.  Also, Hungarians do not like physical contact with others unless it is someone they care about.  They like personal space--so this picture should tell you something about their mutual feelings.

For dinner, we went to a pasta restaurant.  Brigitte said that even Italians approve of the restaurant.  It WAS good.  We shared some bruschetta with various toppings--prosciutto, salami, tomatoes, green stuff.  Then she had spaghetti with ham while I had pasta of Sultan which had tomatoes, corn, onion, and chicken in a sauce along with pasta.  It was weird to see corn in my pasta--but it tasted pretty decent.  Brigitte says corn is weird to see on pizza but tastes all right.

This is Bozda (Elderberry), the Nagy dog.  She was excited someone wanted to pet her so she wouldn't sit still.

 

L-R: Brigitte, Bozda, Blanka, Eva (back: Tamas)

A more formal picture--add me on the left and Tamas on the right.

I took this with the camera out to the side--surprised Eva.  Not bad for a snapshot without aiming.

A couple more pictures with another lighting setting.

This is Gabor, Blanka's boyfriend.  He took a couple selfies...I don't think he realizes that I put all pictures taken in to these blogs.  "I pity the fool!" (He likes US cultural references)

Hungary Day Three, Europe Day Seven. The Northeast Hungary Roadtrip (and a lot of pictures)

Today was road trip day.  Brigitte's host mother, Eva, took us for a drive through northeastern Hungary.  That doesn't sound like much, except gas is not inexpensive in Europe, Hungary is not as monetarily wealthy as the US, today was Eva's one day off (for Pentecost), AND tomorrow she is proctoring final exams and grading tests.  So from the adult perspective of sacrificing time--today was a big gift and appreciated.

This is the Tisza River.  It's the second biggest in Hungary.  This is in the direction of the Ukraine where it comes into Hungary from.  On the northern end of Hungary, this goes through wine country: Tokaj.

 This is the Tisza in the other direction.  If you're from the US Midwest, the color should look familiar.  It's brown like the Mississippi.  In Hungary, it is called the Blonde Tisza because it carries so much sand in it (just as the Mississippi carries silt).  It's about 1/6th or 1/7th the width of the Mississippi I'd guess.  Maybeeeeee 1/10th.

This red flower grows everywhere in NE Hungary.  It isn't a poppy, but otherwise, I have no idea.  It was very bright-colored and pretty.

These were roses outside the first church we visited.  I miss Julie and know she'll read this and since she loves flowers--hey, you get flower pictures.  A lot of Hungarians grow flowers, by the way.

This is the belltower of the first church we visited.  It was originally built on the north side of the building but was destroyed in 1944.  The church has no windows on the north--and was untouched.  I suspect that after the only position of elevation was gone that the building was worthless to defenders and thus permitted to escape unscathed.  It is made of treated wood--and smelled a bit like railroad ties.

Brigitte and her host mom discussing the flowers.  The east side of the church is a half-hexagon.  It's long name is the Naked Feet Church of Our Lady.  Weird until you hear how it was built.  The building is the only church in Hungary made from mud with sticks woven together inside of the mud to strengthen it.  Then they used 'white clay' as well and stepped on it to pack it in and make it denser.  Essentially, this is the 15th century equivalent of reinforced concrete with rebar.

I was gobsmacked pictures were permitted, but the church is a still functioning Calvinist/Reformist Church even though it is tiny.  There were only sixteen pews total.  On the ceiling you can see paintings.  One was done by the worker, afraid he'd be forgotten.  The remainder he did with themes of flowers and the months of the year.  They are all painted on to the wood ceiling and date from 1766 or so.

This is where the pastor's family sits. 

This is the pulpit.  The 'lid' above it is meant to disburse sound out to the pews rather than up towards the ceiling.  The flowers/fruits on it are shaped to look like a crown.

Families built their own pews or donated pews to the church.  One pew has art drawn on the side. I believe this is a stork.

On the front of a stand near the door--this is the tree of life.

Our second church, built in the 13th century in a 'Roman style'.  Notice the flowers?  If only American places were this stylish!

Another view of the plants and back yard of the church--facing east.  I believe it was in the town of Teslo.

Part two of the backyard--facing west.

Facing south.

This is from the back--though it's where you actually enter.  It's had damage/wear over the years, including being repainted over art that was already there--done during the change from Catholic to Reformed/Calvinist.

The men's sitting area.

The smiling saints--believed to be the only church in Europe where all the saints are smiling--remember, saints lead sucky lives.  These were painted over about the year 1500.  When they went to redo a paint job and scraped paint off, these were found underneath (you can see the outline around them on the wall).  There were some on the opposite wall, too, but they couldn't be saved.  To the far right I didn't get to take a picture, is another fresco of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph--but it's funny because they've got two people behind them, bigger than them, looking like they are helpers...that's the guy who commissioned the artwork.  So--if you have money, you can help Jesus.  Those are the rules.

This is the small top floor where the family which paid for the church got to sit.

I didn't get a good picture, but this is the view from the top down.  On the right, you can really see the color difference on the wall from when they stripped it down to find the frescos.

This is the ceiling.  Inside it they put all of the church's critical documents.  First, invaders wouldn't think to look in the ceiling.  Second, the region is prone to floods, so a cornerstone or something at ground level would be prone to destruction.

Hungarian steer.

More Hungarian cows.  I hadn't seen horns like this--very straight up.  The cows were very hairy and different from their US cousins.  I'm told their meat is quite tasty, though Hungarians prefer beef cooked "very well done."

One of Hungary's greatest poets, Sandor Petofi, wrote his poetry on walks in this field and was always inspired by this great tree.  About twenty years ago, it was struck by lightning and effectively killed.

This is a baby tree grown from one of the branches of the original.  It has survived and is prospering.  Perhaps it will inspire someone else in 40-50 years....

This is a graveyard entrance.  The headstones were interesting (see next picture).  Also interesting, many graves in Hungary are raised a little--and then used as gardens so that they grow their own flowers.  I really liked that. 

The headstones are all shaped like the prows of boats.  On the bottom half, it gives the person's name, age, death date, spouse, and a bit about their lives.  I don't know how long the headstones survive.

These are two photos of the memorial/grave of Ferenc Kolcsey, the man who wrote the poem which became the Hungarian anthem.  It's a sad poem, but Hungarians are proud of their anthem (as they should be)

 

 

We wound up about 5 miles from the Ukraine, but I wasn't carrying my passport, so we didn't go wandering there.  Our timing was being done was perfect--when we were done, that was the point it started raining.

 

Back in Debrecen, we had dinner with Brigitte's host family and host sister's boyfriend, Gabor.  It was leftover goulash, some Pogatcha, and I was asked to drink a small glass (think shotglass) of palinka.  Palinka is Hungarian moonshine and its production is protected by the EU as culturally important.  It's made from fruits and to me, is most comparable to schnapps.  Tamas said that it's another of those things you must do in order to be Hungarian.

 

The other one was to eat Turo Rudi.  It's chocolate covered 'cottage cheese'.  Brigitte told me no one likes it when they eat it and she did a video of me eating it--except SURPRISE!!!  it's delicious.  It tastes like one of the flavors you get in a Valentine's Box of chocolate.  That was the day.  Tomorrow?  Guess we'll see :)