The Antique Market II

I didn't even get a chance to describe the wonderful antique/flea market in Budapest.

Now, usually at a market overseas there are ugly old clothes and cell-phone covers. Perhaps some books and that is all. At this market there was china and furniture, Red army hats and Russian boots. There were a scary number of Nazi pins and uniforms and armbands and currency, and a TON of communist memorabilia. There were some gorgeous art deco pieces - also old jewellery.

I fell in love with a statue of a girl (which broke in Gatwick airport) from Hungary and a cream cup from Czeck..um, however that is spelled....that is all art deco and wonderful.

I even drank a coffee there and it had so much cream on it it didn't even taste like nasty coffee!

It was so much fun! I fell in love with an ink set that was tres overpriced and which I did not buy. Most of the sellers were gypsies and the languages were Hungarian and Roma-language. Luckily I had a translator! Oh, it was so much fun! At least those pictures are not gone.

Tears in Gatwick

Things are never that easy. I should have known that by now!

At first the airport seemed like a sweet English paradise. Sure, I could not find a workig bank machine and wandered around the entire terminal with my swervy luggage cart (this was the second one I had tried and I was NOT moving luggage carts again). Sure, the chicken tenders I ordered (which were not easy to order, since the waited did not understand 'chicken fingers' or 'chicken stripe') were rather pathetic and there were only 2 for the 4Pounds20p. Sure, the free showers were filthy and I did not have a towel, and my only pair of relatively-clean socks had fallen into a shower-puddle.

Still, I managed to find an unoccupied bench, and lying there with wet, clean hair in mostly-clean clothes (the socks were safely hidden in the shoes) I felt pretty good.

I napped for a bit, and then walked around watching the people and eating a popsicle I had bought.

I even managed to find a huge armchair outside one of the closed coffee shops where I sat down, preparing to read and not move until I had to.

I reached for my book and opened it and realized that I had not seen my Camera Memory Card When I Bought the Popsicle!

Oh, no! It had been in my purse. I checked, and yes, it was gone. Half of my pictures, The body casts in Ponpeii! The gun/pet store in Naples! Sorrento, Antwerp, Munich, Baden, Vienna - Gone!

I asked everyone, everywere. Noone had seen the card. While I pushed the cart around, asking, the bag containing a statue I hd bought in the Antique Market in Budapest fell off and shattered.

While I filled out a report my travel pillow also disappeared.

Tears. (Though I can get a new travel pillow)

Finally, I sat near the airport check-gate and refused to move until they let me check in. It was still4.5 hours before check in and the desk was not yet open, however I told them that I was not leaving this spot until my bags were safely taken.

The only good thing about standing near the check-in gate at 5:30 am for almost an hour was that I was the first to check in. Strangely enough, my shrink-wrapped bag which weighed 15.5Kilos in Budapest, weighed 20.1 Kilos here. Someone had bad scales.
I had to wear a lot of my clothes.

I asked for a window seat in the EMERGENCY aisle, so I would get more leg room. Sure, sure. I insisted - WAS it the emergency aisle? Sure, sure.

There was no emergency aisle. I HATE being trapped by the window.

Soon I will phone the airport to see if anyone turned in my cards, but I doubt I will be that lucky.

Tears in Ferengi II

In the terminal there was one of those stations where one`s bag could be plastic-wrapped. I had always thought thsoe were silly things, but faces with a bag that did not close, suddenly the idea did not seem so silly. The cost was 1200HUFs or 5 Euros. After my lunch and pate-buying excursion (ew, but it was for a gift) I had exactly 1182 HUFs. I needed just about 8 cents. Luckily, I also had a 20Euro bill, and I showed it the the wrapping guy and explained that I could either pay 1182 HUFs or with my Euro bill. He chose the Euros and wrapped the bag (after I had taken a bunch of papers out of it to get the weight down a bit).

However, when I went to pay him he announced that sorry, he had no change and I had to go down to the change area on the first floor. I looked al all my bags and I asked him where an elevator was. There was not way I could carry a 20kilo shrink wrapped bag AND all my other stuff and a giant pile of loose papers around the airport. He said that there was an elevator "over there". I went to where I deemed "Over there", but the elevator was being guarded by two armed security guards and they would not let me pass. I tried to talk to them but they were not talking and certianly not talking in English (or anything else but Hungarian). I ran back to the wrapping guy (who had my bag) and told him I could not go down the elevator and could I just ahve the change for the Euros in HUFs. He said that there was to be no mixing currencies.

I told him that I was in a hurry and had just 10 minutes to get to my check in desk.

He ignored me so I ran to the info desk and tried to get change there. The man at the info desk dod not know English and would not give me change. (I was not being an annoying tourist. The EURO is accepted around most of Hungary and many of the prices of things at the airport are listed ONLY in Euros) He said take the elevator, and by the way, did I know that my gate was in the OTHER terminal, which was, of course, in a building 10kms away.

Pause, look at watch, burst into tears. (what a good idea! I completely recommend it!)

And it worked! A confused-looking American came over and asked me how much money I needed. I told him that I needed 10 cents or I was not going to be ablo to get back to Canada. Nice man!

I threw the HUFs at the luggage man, grabbed my bag, got a cab, and tears were so dramatic that he ran a red light and drove in the bus lane (hey, it is Hungary. Maybe he does that anyway) and got me to the other terminal, just 4 minutes late. (10Euros! To change terminals! Has no one heard of a SHUTTLE BUS?). The counter was closed, but I looked so pathetic that they let me check in.

HOORAH!

The flight was, of course, almost 2 hours late. But I was on it, and was soon in London.

I figured that things would be wasy now, as I was going home in 14 hours and what would go wrong in an airport?

Tears in Ferengi

Now, I am not a person who regularly bursts into tears. More often I burst into song. Or into anger. Not tears, and certainly not in an airport. However, any usually stalwart gal (or guy) would quite likely have acted the same. Here is what happened:

After the antique market (which I know, I have not yet described, and I mean to, really. I will. Tomorrow.) I fetched lunch and my bags (unbelievably strong Hungarian girl weighing maybe 110 lbs carried it easily down the 99 steps, with me following behind murmuring in amazement and gratitude) and waited outside for my former host, who had offered to drive me to the airport. The offer was much appreciated, as the zipper on my bag was (is) beyond repair and 'I had no idea what I would do if the rest of the bag burst open on the subway or a public bus)

Although there was a fair amount of traffic, we arrived at the airport with just over an hour to spare. I bit my host farewell (with many hugs and kisses) and dragged the sorry bag and myself into the small terminal.

I am tired tonight. The dramatic recounting of events shall have to wait..

The Antique Market

Today I discovered...

That I adore art deco.


And antique markets, even if they have a scary number of WWII souveniers.

Must run!

Repacking

repacking is a huge pain. Especially when the bag is crying.

Tomorrow I will be home though, and then I can wear CLEAN CLOTHES EVERY DAY. Imagine that!

Back to the bag...

The Opera

What oh what were they thinking.?!?!?!

Actually I can guess, the direction and concept of this production was not particularly sophisticated. The budget was not huge (how could it be when tickets range from 2.8ö-2ö.öö?) and they did not have scenery backdrops or many coloured light gels, but they did have a CD (or perhaps an 8-track?) of sound effects to work with.

I am writing this with the assumption that the reader has some knowledge of The Magic Flute and how it "should" be.

The costumes were probably left over from The Marriage of Figaro. Everyone was dressed Mozartian.

At one point Papagano looked up the Third lady's skirt at her knickers.

There was one part of the stage which was raised exactly once: When in O Zittre Nicht the Queen starts the coleratura. Nothing in her second aria.

The sound effects included the braying of wolves (Queen's entrance), the twittering of Birds (Papagano's Presence) The caw of a crow (Papagana as the old lady), and the glorious sound of glass shattering as the Queen threw a sword down from the sky for Pamina to use to kill Sarastro. (What shattered? A bloody cloud??)

The curtain went down on the first act with Sarastro's guards flogging Monostatos, in rhythem with the cadence. Smack, smaaaaack, swat, SWAT!

The 3 Boys were actually 1 boy and 2 girls. And they did not actually sing. I suspect by the flat tone of the middle voice that the 3 ladies sung that chorus from offstage.

The soldier (minion) who had charge of Papagano kept stealing sips from a flask

Instead of fainting from fear before Monostatos' aria, Pamina gets drunk and falls down

Sarastro - the priest of the temple of the SUN - was costumed in black leather boots and black leather pants and a black coat. His temple was in a dark room. He had a skull in the room and an hourglass. No sun. His guards were carrying wooden spears.

ONE of the guards was played completely flaming. NOT the place.

AT one point two of Sarastro's soldiers are supposed to sing a song. For the first (and only) time in the entire opera, the stage is flooded with colour. The soldiers are now RED soldiers. Well, well..

At one point there were rain sound effects too

At another point Tamine was lying flat on the stage under a white blanket while Sarastro's soldiers all pointed swords at him. This was never explained.

When Papagano strug up the noose to hang himself, he tied it on the tree at WAIST level

Tamino faces the trails in a fawn-coloured flared waistcoat and matching top hat.

There was not a trial for each element. Tamino walked with the flute on a plank over fire. He kept teetering and grabbing at the white backdrop-curtain, and squealing in falsetto. He got through, and 3ö seconds later Pamina wander accross. They are suppsoed to be together, BOTH protected by the flute.

The second trial involved being lowered with the 1 trap door. 3ö seconds later, they cam up again.

THERE WAS NOT THIRD TRIAL.

When the queen was banished below they did not use that nifty and perfectly-placed trapdoor. No, she just casually wandered off the stage with her minions.

During the Pa- Pa- song Papagano put on a rooster head (for the first half of the song) and papagana a hen TAIL.

During the second half they marched in 9 kids (where had the extra 6 been all evening... long wasit for them) to be little papagano/as

The Opera did not end with Tamino and Pamina entering the temple of the Sun. Instead they were in a dark room and they had grown old. Tamino was writing at her desk and Pamine stood close by. Then the door opened and the light shone in, and all the papaganos and papaganas and some extra girls and boys cam in and danced around and threw confetti. THEY CHANGED THE ENDING.

...And my favourite. It is TRES difficult to commit suicide by sword. Especially for a lady. Swords are long. Arms are not. This particular sword had already been embraced undera sheet during an aria of Papagano's, so we know that the side is not sharp, and Pamia would have to FALL on the POINT of the sword, somehow. That is not the complaint, however. During her Suicide aria the sword is removed by one of the children over a minute before she is supposed to hold it up to kill herself. It is a dramatic moment - the most so in the opera, and she did NOTHING.

I will not even start with the singing. I Shocked, shocked! How could they get things so WRONG? (There is ample room for personal interpretation withought these changes). The version with the puppets in Salzburg was a million times better.

Budapest-y Day

Today was my second (of two) full days to wander around Budapest and do as much as I can. I did get a lot done, but not enough. Isn't that how it always is. Oh well, I can always come back...

I started out at Kalvin Ter, at my hostel. I took the trap 47 accross the Danube to the 7 bus, and took THAT to Etele Ter. At Etele Ter I bought a special ticket for the Yellow bus that goes to Statue Park, and, following the signs, went to bus stop number 7 to wait for it.

There was a bus at number 7 and when I held up the brochure and looke hopeful, he shook his head and made a finger-pistol at me. Huh? Bang bang? Go away?? I was confused, so I tried bus stop number 5. The same thing happened there. Finger-pistol. Were people mad because I was going to a communist park? Was this a Hungarian way to tell me to fuck off?? I went to the ticket booth and asked them, and received yet another finger gun. This time I persevered. "WHAT are you doing with the fingers???" I wailed. He shook the finger-gun, and said something that eventually registered as the number two. OOOOH, two fingers. Finger gun. Bus at stop 2. Foreign things are confusing.

Statue park was now worth the haul. The statues were interesting, and there were souveniers - flasks with the communist hammer on it, and lighters with the symbols also. That was not the only symbol on the lighters. I turned one of them over and noticed a bit of printing on the bottom: MADE IN USA. Sorry brother, no prezzie from Commie Park. Getting back was not so easy as the 4-bus trip there. The yellw bus returning to Etele Ter did not leave for almost 2 hours, so I hopped a blue bus (there are red buses too, and black buses. They all mean something or other) and changed to a tram and another tran and another bus and eventually I reached the centre of the city once again.

I walked around the pedestrian district, looking for prezzies (nothing...kitch and things from other countries mostly) and then wandered into the downtown area.

I went for lunch at the fancy restaurant again. There was a singer and a bass and the music was great. The food was not so great. I had caesar salad with honey-roasted chicken and mangos, and the caesar dressing was tres fishy. Also there was something suspiciously resembling a cockaroach leg on one of the lettuce leaves. I hope it was not a cockaroach leg.

After lunch I was supposed to go to tour the opera house and then meet my host of the night before to be shown the libraries. I started walking to the opera house, but then I found a bench in a park, and dit not make the tour. I really regret not touring the opera, because when I arrived there it was gorgeous, however sitting on the bench in the sun was what I needed to do just then.

I showed up at the opera house in time to buy a post card and look around the lobby, and then to come out the from door, raving about the great tour I had had. (oops... bad girl, I know, but her feelings would have been hurt if I had said I did not want to do her suggestion)

So.. why the library? I am sure you are wondering that very thing. Well, I was telling people at the shul the story (I know, bla bla bla about myself, but I had a rapt audience, though few of them could understand a word of English) about how I could not find the score for Thomas' Hamlet in Rome, and someone mentioned that the head librarian from Budapest's music library was coming to services in the Evening and then I should ask her about it then. Well, she loooved my singing and she loooves Thomas' Hamlet and she suggested that I stop by the library and I could photocopy the score. Hm!

The library was in an old castle. We arrived 5 minutes after closing so the place was deserted. When we met the librarian she gave me a big hug and 4 Envelopes - They contained: The Hamlet Aria, 2 other arias I had mentioned in passing the day before as wanting, and the burned CDs of the other Arias and the Entire opera!! Now, in Edmonton it is almost impossible to listen to the CDs at the music library. Music librarians are usually worried about people copying things, and this was just SO NICE.

After that we went to the public library - it too is in a castle. It is just gorgeous. IT looks just like the ideal library library would look - why is it not in the tour books!? We ate a snack in the caf of the library. (Here is an example of the cheapness of Budapest: A cappucino, a mint tea, an egg sandwich and a gourmet cookie cost 2.2ö$ Canadian. For everything!

After that I headed off to the mall to look around (it was a mall. Nothing to say) and the to...the opera! The ticket cost 6öö Forints (that is 2.85$ Canadian), and the opera that was playing was The Magic Flute in Hungarian. It gets its own post. I have to write fast because it is really late and I still have not repeaired my bag.

I cannot believe I am leaving tomorrow. I would definitely come back here. Not only are the people nice, but my hair has never been so lovely. I can actually wear it without any clips or elastics, and it just swings jauntily. The bad haircut is not so bad in Hungary (or maybe it has grown out. It HAS been 3 months...)

One example of how lovely people are. I was doodling the costumes from the opera onto the back of an envelope on the subway on the was home, and the girl beside me asked me if I could show her how I do it, she loved how I draw. I was so flattered!!

Also, as a last last note (I am terrified that the power will go out or something - happens here a lot) and I will lose all this... must...finish... I am getting the hang of the language a bit. I know pitifully few fords, but there are English words hidden in signs and posters, they are just written in Hungarian. The language is entirely phonetic (like Hebrew) and as long as I remember that:
S=Sh
Sz=S
E=tres in french
É=École in French
and ü is like the German it is a good start...

Off to see the satues

I am off to staue park, where the old communist statues live now. I have to fit in as much as possible, as my hostess of the past two nights is picking me up for another tour of the city (we did one last night in the dark... it was gorgeous, but I was so tired)

I think I might be getting sick... poor throat. Oh well, that just means I have ANOTHER excuse to try the wonderous curative powers of another bathhouse

When I see how people drive I know I am in Eastern Europe.... so scary, oh so scary

The guy at the next computer is checking the hostel's ratings - it is his hostel. I ahve to be sure to give the place a good rating when I go..

Time to run

Tea Time

This will ahve to be short, as the tea is almost ready.

I spent a lovely day today at services singing. During part of the afternoon Edie (my host) and I took a Funicular up into the mountains and hiked to a viewpoint and looked down upon this city.

During the afternoon torah discussion (in Hungarian) I prowled around the area (called Moscow Square - communism, anyone?) and then looked around the synagogue building. It is in a hebrew private school called the Lauder School - yes, named after the Estee Lauder Lauders. There is some foundation founded by one of the sons that builds Jewish schools in the Middle East and Eastern Europe (EEK! I forgot for a second! I am in EASTERN EUROPE!!).

In one corner of the school were degus, chinchillas, gerbils, bunnies, birds, etc., and they were all out of water! Poor things! I rushed down to the front desk, where the security guard and I pantomimed until we figured out that we could speak in German. I quickly told him that the mausen would be toten because they had nicht wasser and grosse Hunger. He gave me the key (laughing at me..everyone always does when I pantomime starving mouses) and I made everyone happy. I even got to kiss a fat gerbil. Hoorah!

That is all. At services I used German, Italian and French to speak to other people. Phew! Not to brag, but it is fun to switch and switch, though it gets confusing.

Tea is ready. Just let me note that it has taken me exactly 35 hours to regret not wearing shoes to the bathhouse.

Sigh!

The Story of the American in Hungary

At the synagugue last night I met two Americans, who had vaguely mentioned that they were here on business. One of them was at the service today, and I asked him what was his business. He looked uncomfortable, and finally said that since it was YK he did not want to lie, and this was his story:

This American was in Roumania working for a company of venture capitilists, raising money for a company who peomoted weight loss products. For some reason (I think because since Roumania is not in the EU and Hungary is the closest EU country) they travelled to Budapest to do their banking. (I know, the whole thing sounds a bit suspect...) This man was the payroll manager, and the last time he went to the Hungarian bank to withdraw money, the police came and arrested him. The charges were Fraud and Money Laundering.

The American was arrested 16 months ago. He has not had a trial, and he has not been charged formally with anything. He was held in a tiny prison cells with murderers for 4 months, and then when he became ill he was moved to a hospital cell for another 11 months. He is currently released in the city, but he has no passport and he obviously cannot leave. He has not been formally charged yet (the limit for holding someone while investigating is 2 years, and a few years ago it was indefinitely), and no-one gives him or the other Americans any information. Amnesty came to see him when he was in the sick ward, but they did not speak English and never returned with a translator.

If he is guilty or if his company is guilty is not the issue. Even if he added some details his experience sounds horrific. The issue for me is that an EU country should not be able to do these thing, and besides sending him food package from his family, the US Embassy does not do anything. That is scary, and after hearing that I want out!

Soooo Tired

Boxsprin mattresses are what I dream about every night now... nice and springy and soft with fat pillows and sheets...

I actually slept really well here, but I relized a moment ago that I think about my bed a lot. Actually yesterday at the hostel I was talking to 2 girls, and both of them said that they missed their mothers and fathers and boyfriends. but they missed their BED the most.

My host here, who is really nice and seweet, keeps urging me to eat or drink something. It is hard enough to fast when dinner was offal soup! And she was so cute when she told me that I MUST have a nice coffee and milk to start out the morning (I said no...regretfully)

Oh, I skinned my knuckle attempting to shut the eastern european blinds at my hostel the other day.. I have never skinned a knuckle before, and though it did not hurt too much at the time (there was lots o blood though) the scab makes it hurt whenever I use my hand. The probably filthy baths cannot have helped it much. Oh well, adventures can happen to a girl with 9 fingers also.

Last night at Shul someone told me there was one of those shrink-wrap places for luggage at the airport here. Brilliant. If it doesn't cost too muh that will slove all of my Bag-broken woes, for long enough to get home. Or I will try to get duct tape.

Really, there is nothing to write about. I have to go get ready for services, and then spend a looooong day understanding nothing as usual (though I am getting a good idea how spellings of words are pronounced...not that it helps me understand things, though yesterday I learned Kusunum (spelled differently.. I think küsyünüm) which means thank you.

Kol Nidre

I am a guest tonight and tomorrow in a lovely apartment in the hills of Buda. I sang tonight at the Kol Nidre service, and shall sing at the Yom Kippur service tomorrow. No hostel for a busy singer, which is for the best, as one of the girls at the hostel - a very nice but hacking girl from Malaysia - has a horrible cold...cough cough.

I went for the Kol Nidre dinner at the house of the rabbi and her husband. She is Hungarian, and he is a physacist, originally from Nebraska.

Now, I am sorry. I. Do. Not. Like. Jewish. Food.

Unless it involves bagels. Fatty chicken soup I expected. But then they asked me: "Would you like a potato in your bowl? Or a carrot? Onion? Neck? Liver? Heart???"

EWwwwww Offal soup.

I managed to find their house using the public transit system. I am so tired and I want to talk with my host more so I am not going to write more tonight.

The husband of my host is the Chazzin at the Dolhny street synagogue - the second biggest in the world. It seems that at YK he feels too religious to drive to work (fair enough. It is an orthodox synagogue), and so he sleeps in an apartment beside the synagogue, and his son went too this year. Thus, I do not feel as if I am imposing one bit - we are having lots of fun, just the two of us. The wife (ummm.. name?) goes to the reform shul (as she said, there are already 3ööö people listening to my husband.. he does not need 3öö1) and she is a lot of fun.

4 days.

Stories from Communist Hungary

The lady I am staying with tonight told me these two stories. We were listening to Charles Aznavour sing Meine Yiddishe Mama in French, and she asked me when was the first time I had ever heard the song. I told her I really had no idea, and then she told me this:

The little girl and the question

When she was a little girl in Communist Hungary she did not know that she was Jewish. one day in school all of the little girls and boys were told to go home and ask their parent what religion they were, and if they would be permitted to attend religious lessons in school. Well, this little girl had never heard the words "religion" or "religious instruction" before (they are different words in Hungarian) , and she kept repeating them to herself again and again. When seh arrived home her grandmother answered the door, and right away shw asked: What religion am I?

The grandmother did not answer right away. She went away, and when she came back into the room she took the little girl onto her lap and explained that they were Israealites, and that she would hae to aske her parents about religious instruction when they arried home from work. Well, she did, and though at first they said Absolutely Not, she pestered them during the evening and the following morning until they consented.

St the bus stop the little girl met her best friend and of course the first thing they did was tell what religious they were, since no one knew before. These two girls were bittely disappointed, as one, it turns out was an Israelite, and the other one was Jewish!

The next week the school abolished religious instruction.

The Song

In Communist Hungary in the 5ös, travelling outside of the country was basically unheard-of. However, for some reason the little girl's father had been hired for the inport-export business and he was being sent to Amsterdam for some business.

When he returned from his trip, he had with him a few forbidden treasures, and one of them was a record. In the evening he gathered all of his friends and the few relatives who had survived the war into his small apartment, and he played one song on the record, over and over, while everyone was silent, and just listened.

And that was the first time my host heard Meine Yiddishe Mama.

Internet Cafe

I am in an Internet cave which absolutely reeks with BO. I need to print out some Hebrew music for tonight and it is just not working. I am paying for computer time and the guy is being no help. Ah, Eastern Europe (he just finally hame over.. ANGRILY.. and helped... well, sorry Rasputin, but I am not a computer expert!)


I woke up early this morning (In Rome everyone is out of the Hostel and exploring by 7am ,but here they are out all night and who knows when they get up - I am always gone) and took the subway to the Baths. There are three main bath houses in the city, and I went to the Szechenyi baths, in (not hard to guess) Szechenyi park.

The bathhouses are very important apparently in hungarian culture - before I leave I hope to see the other two houses. It is a bit expensive to get in the baths, but the admission price is for 4 hours, and if one only stays 2, which is plenty of time to steam bathe, half the money is refunded. 4$ for two fun hours is definitely worth it!

The bathhouses have a Solarium and massages which cost extra (and one can rent all sort of things from bathing trunks (!) to towels), but the basic admission price includes a locker (which is safe because it is watched by an attendant even when it is locked) and all of the pools, which in this bathhouse include a Sauna, and indoor and outdoor pools ranging from 26-38 degrees. Some have sulphur in them, and they are each for something different, but happy confused me spent most of her time in the outdoor 38degree pool. The architecture of the building is Ottoman/Turkish, and it is painted bright white and yellow, with fountains and statues (such as a women being fondled by a swan). The only downside was that I forgot my flip-flops and I hope I do not catch some horrible foot plague (they actually had a foot DISENFECTANT station, so I hope that I managed to kill any scary germies there, if there were any)

After the bathhouse (the other two are woman/men only sectioned, so I assume the bathing suits are not necessary. I thought I would start slow today, because being naked AND confused takes a lot of energy) I sat in the park under a tree and dried off, and then went to visit the Fun Park.

Lucky me, the park was not fully operational, so admission was free! The ride I wanted to try - an antique merry-go-round, with horses which have to be manually rocked- was open, so after a spin on that I headed on this cafe search.

That is all, must finish printing, and then find somewhere to eat. This area - the Jewish quarter of Budapest - is mostly closed, as it is YK tonight, so probably downtown... as long as there is not tons of walking...

A Bit about Budapest

It is evening and I am back at my hostel. There is so much to do before tomorrow, but I want to take a few moments and write about the city and my day in it.

First the subway. It looks like Eastern Europe. The Beggars are everywhere, and everyone seems grim. There are old ladies beside the exits selling bridal-style bouquets of flowers. They are actually quite adorable (the flowers). There are clocks beside each track which count UP the time.. they are always between a minute and three minutes when I have seen them. The escalators move at about double the speed as back home. I guess the communists needed to get their people to the production lines fast every morning, and no matter how I time it, I almost fall every time I step on. It is funny how one's body is used to doing a ting (like stepping onto an elevator) and how it does not take kindly to change.

Today I started at the Old Synagogue. It was built in the mid-18öös and it is a Turkish-style orthodox synagogue. It was amazing. Funnily enough, the bathrooms in ot were swarmong with mosquitos, but otherwise the synagogue was fantastic. The ceiling was painted blue with silver stars and there were stained glass windows and an organ (orthodox though), and three stories of seating. I believe it seats 3ööö. It was built on the site of Theodore Herzl's house, and involves a smaller synagogue in the back, as well as a memorial garden and a cemetary (with gravestones propped up against the trees - in WWII there were just no bodies to bury a lot of the time)

There was also a museum with relics rescued from the Nazis. At the start of the war two ladies from the National Museum crept in and packed everything in wooden boxes which they hid in the basement of the National Museum, saving them. Old tallits and menorahs. On the outside of the synagogue were stars and elk and lions and Jewish symbols (even in the grilling fo the gate) mixed with turkish architecture. There were plaques celebrating the different Hungarian war heros.

After seeing that I walked around the neighbourhood, and then took the tram to one of the Jewish Cemetaries. I got off at the wrong one actually and explored it, then hopped back on the tram and went on to the other one. The first cemetary was very Blair Witch-y. I mean, I know that cemetaries are not supposed to be scary, but this one was COMPLETELY overgrown. As I pushed through the trees I got a huge thorn in my thumb, and kept tripping over brambles. There were lizards everywhere and doves and other larger things crashing through the brush as I passed. At one point there was almost impassible trees on every side and I did not know if I could get back to the path. Ther graves were all toppled and there were OPEN crypts. It was very strange.

After that visited the Hologaust centre, which had a display on about the Romanies (gypsies), not in English at all.

After THAT I tried to walk to the craft store in a mall, and it was not there. The mall, I mean. The building was just a huge apartment. I had walked almnost 2 hours.

Supper was fantastic - cold pear and cream soup and salad, at a trendy restaurant, with tip for 6$!

Now I am back here to fix the suitcase and to plan tomorrow morning. I am going to see the amusement park and a spa I think.

There is so much more to write. I will have to update this later with details...

Shame on the Souveniers!

The stem of a candy flower that I bought in sulmona has PIERCED my favourite blouse. There is a neat hole in it. !! Souveniers are not supposed to do THAT!

PESTE e BUDA, Hungary

...I borrowed someone's title again... I assume they were from Italy...

Anyway, I have the subway all figured out already, and armed with my extensive Hungarian grammer:

Left-bal
Where is - Hol van
*Big Smile and a pleading look represents everything else I have to say*

I went to look for a Vegetarian restaurant I had read about in my guidebook. I found the cross street and then the street and then the address, and it was... closed! I was not pleased, as the guide book was only a year old. I walked around grumbling until I found a fancy Medetarrian-Thai fusion restaurant. It was called Tom-George. It had its own DJ, and was near the luxury hotels, and you needed reservations (or maybe they just dumped me at the bar - which was, incidentally, way too tall for me to eat off of because I was alone. ) In Italy or Canada or France eating at a place like this would be fabulously expensive. A meal here with beverage and tip was only 12$ Canadian! (Of course, this is the second time only in the last 3 months I have eaten at a fancy place, and that is how much I isually spend in a day, however for the venue...) They list the prices in Florints and Euros, so I am starting to get the gist of the exchange rate.

Ah, the Exchange Rate. At the airport I took out 5ööö Florints. It all came out in 1 bill, and I took it to the candy counter to change it, as I did not want to pull out 5ÖÖÖ florints on the street. The lady looked at me strangely when I apologized for breaking so large a bill with just the purchase of a bus ticket. Then later at the Metro, when I bought my weekly pass, I was astounded that it cost 32öö florints for 7 days on the metro - what, like 1öö Canadian??

Then I figured out that one has to remove TWO zeros and cut it in half and then ake away a little more too. Thus, 5ööö florints is something like 22$ Canadian. I feel so clueless. I ddid not realize what being in other countries was like for the people who do not speak German or French of Italian or Hebrew... eek.

One funny story.. while I was panicking about my Metro pass splurge, I noticed that apples cost 198Florints a KG, and I wondered why fresh apples were hard to get!

This city (at least in the dark) seems pretty modern. The Vending machine ate my money, and there are a lot of street people, but otherwise...

Okay, many adventures to be had tomorrow, and then the next day Kil Nidre

(one more thing, I know this is choppy tonight, but I am EXHAUSTED beyond belief from hours of walking and dragging and smiling. Anyway, at the restaurant the drink special was Maccabee beer - Special Hebrew Beer the menu proclaimed. I hope that is not like the Magen David Swill...)

Hungry in...well, it is not hard to guess

I am in Eastern Europe! Isn't that wierd!

I managed to buy a weekly metro pass and find the hostel (which was an adventure in itself, which at one point involved me cursing very loudly in frustration until a pregnant girl helped me to read the address - I had the numbers mixed with the region...never mind)

It is certainly not Western Europe. There are Burger Kings and Subways, but the Subway itself is ancient, and... that is all I have seen thus far. Time to go explore.

This morning I wanted a little adventure, so I walked down to the forum and looked at the ruins. It was fun, and it was Still Sunny. Two days in a row!

At the airport I met a group of Florintine nuns who started talking to me about opera and singing, as we waited in line. They were from the US, and Brazil, and Poland and Italy. I gave them a demo CD of mine, as one of the nuns of their order adores opera. Then we talked about how to start to learn Hebrew - the roots of the words etc. What an interesting conversation. The funniest part was when I was trying to hide one of my bags so they would not see that I had 3 instead of one to carry on, and the Brazilian nun said:
" Give it to me to hold while you check in. They will think it is mine" Hee hee, nobody questions a nun! (I assume blatent deception is easily forgivable in their order)

The hostel here is the top floor of a walk-up building. It is echoey and woody with 2ö foot ceilings. I can't wait to see more of this place.

Time to eat

Last day in Rome

Today I am going to Budapest.
NOW I remember why travelling os so much fun!!

I can't wait to see the aynagogue and the baths and the communist statue park and to wander around and not understanding a word.

Hurrah!!

Too bag my suitcase ripped. On the evil day when everything I touched fell apart, I forgot to mention, but right after I typed the post and went upstairs to the dorm, I was re-zipping my suitcase, and the PLASTIC from the zipper (not the zipper itself, that would be fixable) fell apart. I have treated this bag really nicely. Now I am tres worried about if the rest of it will fall apart today when I travel. O well!

O may wander down to the Colesseo and the Forum one more time... it is Rome after all, and just because I am used to it, does not mean I will nevessarily be back anythime soon (although I HOPE I will be!)

I will walk 500 miles....

After another delicious hostel breakfast (I ate with a darling Aussie girl who has been travelling since May and who tromps around in a pair of Wellies all over town) I went to my room to put on some relaxing clothes - nothing too strenous today was the plan. The jail guard was just pulling on some clothes. In a slurry voice she informed that she was still drunk but that she was getting up for breakfast so that she could sober up a bit so that she could see the Pope. (Apparently the upcoming Pope excursion did not matter last night when she started drinking)

See! The! Pope! I had not done that yet. What a prime idea! I found my Aussie friend and told her where I was planning to go, and she grabbed two other people from the hostel and we set off for the Vatican. I was the only one who knew where anything was, so I was the leader of the expedition (although I must confess they thought I was a couple of years younger than I really am...one of the girls is only 18 and I know how old 27 looks to 18!).

Now we are four
The Termini station was absolutely packed, and the metro more so. I was surprised that so many people came out every week to hear the pope speak, but what did I know. There were so many people, in fact, that the police would not let us all enter the subway. We had to wait and wait and when we finally reached the platform it too was a seething mass of PEOPLE. I warned everyone that we had to stay together, and that when the train would arrive everyone would push. And that they would have to push too, or we would be separated. Everyone Agreed, and the first train arrived. The crowd surged forward, and we got closer to the edge of the platform, but it was not until the second train that we were all able to slip onto the train.

Three on the train
Tom did not push hard enough. As the train pulled away we saw him outside, looking forlorn. Now, I realize that it is a bit harder for a guy to put his hand in a girl´s face and shove her away from the open door, but the rest of us managed.
We stopped again and again and no-one got off. Finally, at piazza del popolo, 2 stops from the Vaticano, the crown (many of whom were wrapped in flags of bearing banners) streamed off the train. I wondered if perhaps the speech was here. I did not really think so, but the girls did, and better to let them be wrong than to be wrong myself. We pushed and followed the crowd up the stairs and into the Piazza.

There were thousands of people there, but this gathering looked a little too political to be about the Pope. One of the Aussies talked Italian (or so she said), however I did not once hear her actually say anything in Italian. So, as usual, I asked someone where we could find the pope. They explained that this was a rally. O-kay...

Suddenly someone rushed up to us.
¨So you hate Berlusconi?¨ she cried in jubilant English.

Hate Bulesconi?? We did not even know Bulesconi! We told her that and hurried away.

**

It was a 30 minute walk to the Vatican, but we hurried there. We were almost there when we met a friend of one of the aussies (they recognized her rainboots). A Canadian from Toronto! She joined us and we reached the Vatican and pressed into the crown of thousands as the Pope leaned out onto his balcony and began to speak.

The crowd was divided into two sets: The ones who wanted to hear what the Pope had to say, and the ones who wanted the snapshot of the Pope and then who wanted to get on with their day. They pushed to take the shot and pushed to get out of the crowd. At one point an Aussie lady gave me a shove and I protested that there was nowhere to go, wo why push past me.

¨There is somehwere to go,¨ she answered, ¨If you SHOVE¨.

I agreed. I shoved her husband in turn as he passed by, and stepped into his way. She is right. There IS somewhere to go when you shove.

After the Pope spoke and blessed in Latin and Italian, he spoke about the India earthquake in English and about how welcome all the Germans were in Deutsch. Very lingually-talented, this Pope, although it was tres strange to hear him speaking English with a German accent!

We decided to leave before the crowd, and we were off...

Two to Go
...And all of a sudden the wellington-boot Aussie had disappeared! We waited and we looked, she and her friend were nowhere to be found. Too bad, really, but the crowd was streaming out, so we excaped on foot from the Vatican area.

On the sprint to the Vatican, we had passed the most adorable store, named after a pumpkin, with mousing clothing and hippo pencil cases. They were overprised, but fun to look at. Then we went for Gelato, and started the long, long walk back into the city centre (I was not so keen on walking, but for once the day was sunny and exercise is good, right? Even THAT much exercise)

We walked accross the river and through the rally square, where there were still signs and banners and huge balloons. We saw the Spanish stairs and threw coins in the Trevi fountain. (Three, like the song!) We bought pop in a cute little stoor that had genuine Absynthe. Like in Moulan Rouge. With the Wormwood in it, which is illegal in Canada I believe. I really wanted to buy some. I don´t usually drink, but it looked so NEAT and flourescent! However, the prospect of carrying the absynthe for the rest of my trip did not appeal to me.

The two of us dodged the annoying sellers of bubble-guns and rubber toys and walked through the windey cobblestones to a bird-fortune seller. I had mentioned this in another post - budgies who picked fortunes. I love holding cute budgies, and I have never OWNED a green one... *hint hint*. As far as I can translate, my furtune says:
You have a good spirit, but nobody knows it. You will receive something you desire, however it will some in the guise of misfortune, however it will end up being good. Your destiny - you will suffer badness in business, but all will wass. You will be lucky. You will be known by many, but you will be content and knowing your rival will come to you. You will live 99 years. Lotto numbers: 13-28-39

Wow, I sure know a lot of Italian! Anyway, after the bird lady (who tried to charge the Aussie double as she had held more birds and from whom we fianlly ran away) we went to the Pantheon. I have been to the Pantheon before, but every time it is anazing. It is possibly the best thing to see in Rome. As I mentioned before, there is an open hole in the ceiling, and the sun was shining right through it. Today the Church looked very Pagan. I adore the Pantheon.

We continued along the streets, popping into churches as we passed them. In one of them, right beside the Pantheon and behind the Elephant Obelsik, was a church (The Basilica de s. Maria Sophia Minerva) with the original Michaelangelo statue of Christ. Wow, is that ninja turtle talented! It is truly a magnificant statue. I have nothing to say about the poor man´s absent genetalia (wasn´t crucifying him bad enough? Did the church need to replace his chiseled member with a crudely-cut of-colour laurel leaf?), however the stature is Real Art. I love Art! The ceiling of the church was painted blue, with stars twinking down.

On the altar was a tomb (rare for it to be a woman). Perhaps that was Marie Sophia Minerva?

We looked at some of the shops, and at one I almost bought a 5E tank top. It was a really hot day, and I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a coat. However, when I asked to try it on I was told that it was ¨impossibile¨. I gestured to the empty dressing rooms and inquired why. The salesman repeated ¨impossibile¨. I pressed the matter and was told that since it was only 5E I did not warrent the usage of the dressing rooms. Hm! Forget that. store.

Afterwards we hiked down the street to the Cat Sanctuary, where the stray cats of Rome live. I had mentioned this before - how in Rome they spay or neuter and then dump all of the stray cats in some runis where they live and fight and try to mate happily. We watched the kitties for awhile, and listened to an English tour go on nearby.


Um...Was that ME?
The next story is of my HUMILIATION. We were sitting there peering down at the ruins and listening to the tour, when all of a sudden the guide announced that THERE (pointing to a part of the ancient temple, by now probably stinking of cat piss) was the exact spot where Caesar was murdered.

Suddenly a voice peeped up: ¨...But I love him!!¨

Oops. Was that an outside voice? Was that MY outside voice???

Now, although I think that conquering the world 2000 years ago was terribly impressive, I had been thinking that it was horrible for the place where the Emperor of Rome was stabbed to now be a hold full of hissing, lustful cats. I...well, anyway, I did not mean to say that and certainly not ALOUD. The statue IS kind of sexy, though...

One elserly English woman broke the shocked silence. She walked up to me and patted me on the head and said ¨there, there, dearie¨ in what was no doubt her most soothing voice. ¨In the movies Cesar is always played by the most ATTRCTIVE man!¨

Sigh. Poor me! Poor Caesar too!

We walked on. I stopped to snap a photo of the wierdest dress in one of the store windows - it looked like a beautiful red ball gown, with a huge hole punched into the skirt. Wierd!

I suppose people actually listen to me when I go on about things. The Aussie next wanted very badly to see the church of the Capuccian monks. That is the bone church where everything is made out of bones and rotting corpses. On the steps on the way in we met the prison guard coming out. She informed us that the church was indeed ¨fucked up¨ and that she was glad I had told her to go. Hm, EVERYONE should listen to me all the time!

We went into the church, and I managed to sneak a couple of pictures (the postcard pictures are not as impressive - or in focus - as they might be). I even had a long conversation on the way out with the lady whose job it was to watch over the bones (Seriously the worst job ever. A MILLION times worse than washroom attencant) about how angry it must make her that rude tourists come in and take photos. Hee hee! The Aussie thinks I am cheeky now!

Next we popped into one church and then returned to the cats, where there was to be a tour at 5:00 of the excavations. We arrived 9 minutes late. We asked if wou could still join the tour and we were told that we were 20 minutes late (poointing to the clock, which even while fast showed 16 after) and could not. Okay, time for coffee!

AT the coffee place I ordered a nutella-gelato milkshake. Delicioso! Then the nice man at the bar brought us free shots, which were actually delicious. What was in them? Here, I wrote it down:

Delicious Shot:
1 scoop Raspberry Gelato
Dry white wine
Campari

Now, I know these were free, but mine was half the size of my compantion´s. Not that I wanted more, but I remanked to her that I would guess it was deliberate. Sure enough, on the way out, the waited slipped her his phone number with a message about how he liked her smile. Should I be insulted? What about my (apparently grotesque) smile?? Good thing I am a magnanimous girl, and of course I did not really want his number. I have certainly received enough attention this trip...

On we walked. Past the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and the Forum, and towards the Colesseum, glowing in the setting sun.

Then on in the dusk to the station.

It was a wonderful, wonderful day. I have to purge some pics from the camera - no room for Budapest. I go tomorrow. I am so excited!

**

Just one story I forgot yesterday. I was looking at Venetian glass, and some And some Americans came over to see. They admired it and I extolled it so much that one of the ladies bought one. Hee hee, I can sell anything! Her friend refused to buy one as she is ¨too Bohemian¨ for that. Right, in your Gucci Purse and pointy-toed shoes, I am certain you are. Silly lady, there are no two Venetian Glasses the same...

**


Okay, time to run...

Being Generous is easy...

There were two girls in my dorm from Hong Kong, and they wanted to go to Verona today. They wanted to know if they could look at my travel book about Verona. Now, as the travel book came off the Free Book Shelf at the hostel (one of the best reasons to stay in a hostel!) I could just rip out the section on Verona. The expression on their faces. I RIPPED a BOOK...for THEM. They thanked me and thanked me and were so excited.

Now, usually I don't go around ripping books for pleasure, but not carrying a heavy pack is more important than carrying a book extolling the virtues where I have not or have already been. Besides, I recognized that expression - that is how *I* looked 3 weeks ago when another traveller ripped out her map of Pompeii to give to me.

It will be hard to part with the book, despite it missing the section on Rome and newly missing the part on Budapest (hee hee).

It is actually sunny today. I was going to sit around in the hostel for a good chunk of the day but with the sun there is no reason not to have an adventure. (Just a few words first on my roommates I may have written this already, I am not really awake yet and can't remember)

There are 2 people of note in my room. The first is an Aussie prison guard, currently unemployed. She was a woman guard in a man's prison, and she said that she never was flirted with. Can see why! She has pointy rat-teeth which are the strangest gray colour (no milk down under? Kangaroo milk???) and she is tres nice but not that smart. (She plans to waltz into England next week and get a prison-guard job there. Now, I know nothing about the selection of prison guards, but I assume that they do some background check, and that I could not go to - say - Iraq and present myself at a prison, ready for an interview.) She is short like I am so watch out - 5 feet of fury can be dangerous!

The other roommate is a classics major from South Carolina or Seattle or Illinois or somplace random in the US. He is studying in London for a semester, and is on a 2-week semester break. He is a classics major and has the stinkiest feet I have ever - er- smelled. The room becomes full of his FEET whenever he comes in the room. That is not why I am writing about him, though. He is planning to sleep next week on Mount Olympus in Greece (he brought a sleeping bag) because he truly believes that Zeus (or preferably Baccius/Dionyses) will come down during the night. No comment. I chould have been warned as to his geeki-strangeness, as his choice of reading material is Spiderman comics/The Odyssey.

Time to go to breakfast. I am so excited to go to Budapest!

Rainy Rome III

The movie has just ended, and I think that I should add a couple of detailsaboutmy day before I completely forget them. Then I have to change into dry clothes.After awhile it is wasy to forget the wet and cold, but I have been wet and cold since 10 am...brr!



Things I saw today: Whatever river it is flowing through Rome was really wild, and there were all sorts of things bobbing around in the water: Huge tree trunks, colourful pop bottles, and half a dozen soccer balls. They were dancing in the choppy water and I enjoyed watching them - simple pleasures!

The church of the Trastevere, which had a beautiful illumanated altar. I was snapping a picture, when the light switched off. Apparently, to light up the altar (and this was during a service) one must insert a coin in the light-the-altar toll machine(!)

One of the flower sellers was selling something that looked exactly like a stalk of teeny pumpkins. How neat was THAT!

The tomb of the unknown soldier was interesting up close, and at the Vatican, the Swiss guards were dressed in rain capes (did you know, their outfits were designed by Michaelangelo? Yes, THAT Michaelangelo - the ninja turtle)

I also saw the most luscious red woolen coat. I have the biggest weakness for flared woolen coats. I must have stood for 10 minutes, gazin at it (tres exciting, I know)

I returned to the shop where I had bought a little pendant at the other day, to buy tallit clips for my mum. The store was closed when I got there (riposa), but I walked around and looked at the Gucci and the Escada windows until it opened again at 3. The nice man who had been there the otherday was not there, and in his place there was an elderly woman, who did not talk English. I mentioned that her husband had been so nice and patient theo ther day while I was looking at necklaces, and we startedt talking (I found the best tallit clips too!) in Italian about all sorts of things - how the mad was really her brother, and the tourist industry, and the price of potatoes, etc. etc. She was so sweet! She insisted on wrapping up the tallit-clip stones in the prettiest box in tissue paper and a pretty bow - it was such a cute store, too!

I even had a Eurotrip moment at the Vatican. A well-dressed man started slirting with me, and I was polite but aloof (hard to do in Italian) but he still asked me to go with him to "parliamo". Hm... parliamo my ass.. time to run!

I just want to write a few words on disappointment. Not the crushing kind of 'my favourite shirt just fell apart in my hands' disappointment, but rather when something that one has looking forward to just is not how they expected it (sorry if I sound vague - Napoleon Dynamite is on now and I am watching and typing). One personal example is SNORKELING. Although I adore snorkeling, I did not imagine it involved swallowing so much ocean. Another is... actually this is hard. Most things I look forward to trying are worth looking forward to trying. However, today I experienced a bitter moment. Chesnuts roasting on an open fire do not taste as I had imagined: smoky and crisp. No. They taste like Lima Beans. I ABHORE lime beans. They are squishy and..ugh! NEVER again. EW.

I can't even think with the movie on, and I just remembered that I am carrying the evil nuts. I have to dump them and trhy to sew the umbrella back together.

2 days until Budapest. I cannot wait!

The Medusa Day

Everything I touch breaks. No, let me rephrase that. Everything I touch today breaks. First my favourite red sweater - the one I wore in the picture on the front of the Hebrew CD. It is warm and just baggy enough so I look really pretty and model-chic in it. Today I put it on (freshly-washed!) and the entire collar fell apart. Then later in the day I touched the front pocket of my purse and it fell OFF. Just disintegrated in my hand. I bought the purse at the London airport and it was supposed to last 8 more days!!

Today was a busy day. It was pouring as usual, but I had a specific task to acomplish> Buying my b-r-o-t-h-e-r his bi-r-t-h-d-a-y p-r-e-s-e-n-t. What I wanted to purchase is better to buy on the streets than in an actual store, but one has to happen upon a vendor (in an alley or a subway tunnel usually)

I started at the market in Campo de Fiori. There were giant fish heads and flowers and vegetables, but not what I needed.

Next I headed to trastevere. It was pouring so hard that I kept popping into churches to keep dry. Nothing in Trastevere.

Next to the Spanish steps. No luck there. Then to the Termini. And the Foro. And the tomb of the unknown soldier. And the Colosseo. No luck there. Finally I tried the Vatican, and SCORE! I b-o-u-g-h-t what I n-e-e - well, it was Success!

It is really hard to watch South Park movie and type, so I will write more later.

However, I did buy an umbrella today. I stopped most of the umbrella vendors *but not all* from harassing me. Although it has already fallen apart it was great for poking at cars that tried to run me over and people blocking the path!

Okay, time to watch the movie and lost a few IQ points.

Rainy Rome II

I need to learn Romen Numerals better. I understand V and I and M andC but...D??and there are a couple others, and everything around Rome has confusing dates on it. That is on the list of things to learn back at home. The rest of the list is:

-Physics
-More Astronomy
-Art History
-Architecture
-Something about the Classics
-Geology

I am feeling so unprepared to see the colesseo or the art in the Vatican Musieum or the strange flowers orricks.. I want to know everything about it all, it is so interesting...

It is raining again. And time for breakfast.
The breakfast here is at a little restaurant outside that has set up a sweet little Buffet,free with the hostel. There is, however, a typically Italian frustration. Yesterday, the people in front of me in line were handed a basket of bread when they entered the restaurant. The girl who then pushed in front of me was handed a bun and a croissant (everyhting but bread was in the Buffet). I sat down and waited and waited and finally I got up and wetn over to the waitress and asked if I could have a bunand a croissant.
"Which one?" she asked.
I replied that I would like one of each, and I was told that only the people from the hotel received buns and croissants and us hostellers got our choice. I objected that all around me werepeople from our hostel with buns AND croissants and I just got a dirty look. I wonderif I will get EITHER today.

Sometimes travelling is sure tiring! (But Budapest will be so exciting!)

TV..Cancelled!?

Oh well, things just change and then change again. Good news is that EuroTrip is playing again. TOO funny (I know,really badmovie,but here in Romeit isfunny) must go watch!

Rainy Rome

It is a rainy day here in Roma. Still warmer than Sulmona, but everyone is huddling beneath umbrellas and shivering. Umbrellas! Who needs one? I have gone through 2 or 3 already and I refuse to buy another, silly flimsy things. NOT buying an umbrella is harder than buying an umbrella though. Not because of the rain, but because of the umbrella sellers which have descended on the city. They are like those rubber seahorse creatures that expand in water - the rain begins and a million umbrella sellers are everywhere. According to them, just because you have an umbrella does not mean you do not need two more umbrellas. Or six. Or fifteen.

I have said no thank you to them probably about eighty times. And the strangest thing is that while all the purse sellers are from Africa, all the umbrella sellers are from the vicinity of India. Did they all charter a plane to Rome yesterday when the weather forecast was for rain and come to sell??

So confusing!

So, I went to the music library in the conservatory here. When I arrived (it was on a tiny street and very hard to find) I was informed that the library was Chiusa. I had been told that it was open, so even though the man started talking on the phone and smoking and ignoring me, I pressed the matter. Why was it not open?? Another man came over and he explaned to me in French that two days ago the library had closed to "fix up the floor and some of the books" and would open when the the work was finished, whenever that would be.

He gave be directions to a bookstore, but they had not heard of Thomas, Hamlet, or even Shakespeare. So, no opera score for me.

I walked back to the Piazza del Popolo and found a Leonardo de Vinci exhibit. The museum-church had recreated DeVinci inventions and it was so interesting to see!

Now I am back at the hostel. Soon I head to the church to hear about the concert tomorow. Nine days and I come HOME!!

Morning at Yellow Hostel

Here is a lovely example of Americans vs Canadians>

There was one guy in my room who snored all night. Except when he was sleep apnea-ing {gastp...gasp..choke....sNORRE!} and with each snore came a kick that shook the lower bunk. {Guess who was IN the lower bunk?}

In the morning the guy - who was very nice actually -asked if he had snored at all.

I answered that he did, a bit. The American in the next bunk wearliy replied
Dude, you have a PROBLEM!!!!

Well, that is what I had been thinking! He must have been the one laughing in the night as I kicked the top bunk and finally got out of the bed and hit the guy with an extra pair of pants until he suhut up. It only woprked for a second though, and then the cycle started all over again...

Today I am off to the Conservatory, to get some music that we do not have in Canada. Yesterday I fould a heavenly song by Hildegard von Bingham. I am so happy! It is the best present to have great new music.

Eurotrip...

...is the FUNNIEST movie to wach in Europe.. we have all been to all those places!

(Might not be the same at home though, I do admit!)

A bit about Yellow Hostel

The walls of the hostel are yellow, but that is the name too. It is really late and I cannot go to sleep because my clothes are in the dryer. Really, as reasons for not sleeping go, that is nowhere as bad as bugs in the bed or raunchy drunken roommates.

And besides, the laundry should be sone in about a half an hour.

Although the laundry is a bit expensive here, it is nice that I can do laundry {one of the staff sat on the washer while my stuff was in it, drinking a beer and enjoying the spin cycle. Hey, as long as my socks are safe...}

There are Itlaian movie posters on the wall, and 2 big LCD screens. Roght now EuroTrip is playing, much to the enjoyment of my fellow travellers. There is a kitchen (backpackers can actually cook! Everything has smelled so delish tonight) They are really enjoying this movie. I am so not the right person to be here. My brother would adore the scene here, and same with sis. I am just tired.

The bed seems so clean, although the pillow smells a bit funky. So, out comes the MEC pillow.. thank you again sis for the useful prezzie!

I am going to watch the movie too for awhile.. night all!

More from Roma

So, it is evening abd I am at mybusy hostel with a lot to write about. Unfortunately, all of the letters have rubbed off the keys and some of the keys are different (as usual) so I apologize for any typos.

I would like to start by recounting a conversation between 3 singer-friends and I. Two were Italian and one Roumanian. We were all talking in English, out commen language (the Roumanian did not talk any Italian) when one Italian girl burst out:
"I AT waiting!"

The other Italian immediately corrected her.:
"No," he said, "You should say: I ATE waiting!"

"No,no," the Roumanian girl burst in importantly, "It is I CHAYT waiting!"

I waited, but no-one asked me for any pronounciation tips. Other countries are funny!

***
I found the church with the competition in it after a lot of map-peering and seeminglyaimless wandering (just because the streets look straight on the map is no reason why they should not twist and curve in actuality)

So, I found the church and they were just announcing the Semi-Finalists (I go right to the semi-finals as I won a previous competition) I waited until the church cleared out and the rehearsals startedwith the pianist. I know, I would kill to play that well. However, it was still not well enough to accompany in a public competition. More about that later.

Picture how I appeared at thatmoment: I was tired. My hair (which I had wasked the night before) looked like I hadbarely touched it with a brush, and sort of stringy at the same time (trains and changing climates are not good for hair, and I HAD just barely touched it with a brush...I had so much else to remember to do!).My clothes looked like TRAIN and had that TRAIN smell (piss and apple juice) that they always get no matter how lovely the train is. Almost no makeup (teensy bit of lipstick), and a beautician would cry to see my poor skin. I was gorgeous, you can imagine.

We started to rehearse, and in burst a television crew. I had videotaped my rehearsal, so my expression is on tape- I bet it is pretty funny! - as the lights flooded the stage suddenly and the cameraman kneeled inches below my face and taped me singing. It was hard to concentrate on the pianist or the music!

The competition started and soon it was my turn to sing. The Hebrew song went all right, but when we started the Bach Cantata the pianist turned 2 pages instead of 1 and it all fell apart. I kept singing but there was a murderous look on my face for the rest of the sing. The words were: "I find happiness even in my sorrow",and my thoughts were:"I HATE you evil pianist!!"
She also played too fast,a nd I even conducted a bit and sang slower andonce she got back on track she baralled towards the endwithoutlooking up.

Now, I have not been in a proper rage for so long. I had missed it! All I have been feeling for the last month and a half is a constant weariness punctuated by moments of annoyance (usually when haulingmy bag or when trying to catch a bus or find an address) and of a longing for my bed/parents/gerbils/blender/tap water/piano/space heater etc. I had a throughly good time looking rageful!

And then (this is the good news!) at the end of the night the head of the competition came over and told me that in her opinion I will make the finals, but that if I do not, she would still like me to sing the Hebrew piece in the prize concert. That will be broadcast on television. ON THE VATICAN CHANNEL!

Now, of course I would rather be in the finals(cross fings, I will know tomorrow!) but it will still be tres exciting to be on the Vatican channel!]

I just received an email from Budapest about my upcoming cantorial duties. Also I have to tell South Africa that I am coming. 10 days!! Sweet bed, here I come!

Rome. Again.

I am in Roma again. I splurged and spent 5 Euros more than usual on the hostel for tonight, and I have found the ebst hostel ever. There are mood lights and mood music and free internet and English movies playing in the lobby and I snagged a copy of Angels and Demons from their book wall - Which is great because although it iw shat everyone and their dog is reading, it takes place in Rome. Also, last time I red it was right before the end of my trip a year ago, so it is a Good Omen that I actually get to go home in 10 days.

While I was on the train this morning there was some announcement that set the elderly people in front of me abuzz. Some great train sale for october. I would love to go see the leaning tower of Pisa, so I hope it was a great train sale and that I can go do that this Sunday.

The train. Although by the end of the ride my clothes and hair had the Train Smell that I so loathe, it was the nicest train ever. I have discovered a secret, I guess - If you go during early hours, the train will be a COMMUTER TRAIN, with hooks for hanging suits and clean little tables, and even video cameras to make sure people behave &@#$@#$%!@#$ the paranthesies are not working. I cannot find them, so Imagine them.._+}"{L{{{ well that is close anyway {although I would normally resent Big Brother camers on a train, I hoped it would prevent some of the silly train nonsense. Perhaps it did, although people still smoked and one lady sprayed her new shoes with some protecting varnish that stank up the entire train. The shoes were not even pretty enough to be worth protecting}

The views from the train were stunning this morning. There was a low fog creeping through the fields and trees and the sun peepking from behind the mountains...

Someone just bought pizza. MMM.. I think I will forgo the Roma McDs boring garden salad for pizza. No WONDER all the ninja turtles came from Italy!

A last word on the Living Free in Sulmona. Unfortunately the restaurants were really nasty. The first day they were a novelty. However, for lunch the second day I was spooning some Anti-Pasta Mushroom onto my plate when I thought I saw a rack of spindly legs {cockaroach legs..}. I took a close look and... I will never know if they WERE legs or not, because under them was a giant larvae. EwW!! I left it conspicuously on the plate and walked out, to another restaurant.

There I ordered pasta con fungi *I know.. the mushrooms again...and instead of using oil, I think she used a sauce of chicken fat or something. It was good, but that is not the poin. And there was a dead fly in the vinegar. I did not even use my free meal ticket for last night. Buying a slice of pizza seemed so much safer.

I am so hungry. Must get pizza.

A morning of adventure

...but first, a few words on why Itlay is just so special. I got a bit weary of imagining why things are the way they are, so I started actually asking questions, and I learned a couple of interesting things:

First, I asked if I could take a bus to the station to catch the train. There are no sensible things like schedules at the bus stops, and there are not even really any marked bus stops, so I was a bit confused. The answer I received was this: "Well, you could take the bus, but it does not always come when it is supposed to, and it does not always go where it is supposed to go." Okay.

Then I asked about the train. Why should it take 3.5 hours to travel the 140km to Roma? The train did not feel like it was going that slowly, although we stopped a lot. The answer was that there is only ONE TRACK from Pescara to Roma (with Sulmona in the middle) and on that track run both trains. So, they of course have to pull over often to let the oncoming train thunder by. Well, of course.

**

This morning I got up TOO EARLY, and went on an avventura, with one of the other singers who had his own car. He has a fidenzata, so I did not worry about going off in a car with him, and as long as he talked about himself he was happy.

First we drove to an ancient cloister and it was locked. The we drove to an ancient church and it was closed also. It was quite an adventure, you can imagine! (And here is a hint for all you guys: When you explain precisely WHAT you have to do on the toilet and why you need to find one immediately, no matter how sweet and smiling the girl acts, she is utterly disgusted inside!)

While I waited outside I did see an enormous fat praying mantis. And the cloister, though locked, had many abandoned buildings, where we explored - old wallpaper and fireplaces all falling into ruin. In the first city (called - ominously - St. Battiste di Perricole or something involving danger) we saw about 4 people, and one of them was actually crazy. He leaned out of his window and started to call for my companion to come upstairs and make him some coffee. Now! When he was refused, he pointed at me and started demanding the same thing, but when the Bass explained that I was Canadese, he did not pursue us. Apparently even in abandoned mountain towns it is known that Canadians just can't make coffee.

Living free has been lovely. The meals at the restaurants are delicious, and it is fun to spend the day with singers (fun for a WHILE)

Tonight the results of the semi-finals are posted....I am possibly supposed to sing in Roma tomorrow in another competition, so if I make the finals it will be a pain juggling everything. Of course, I would rather make the finals, but we'll see...

A bit about Sulmona

Sulmona is an ancient city, nestled amid foothill-mountains. I don't really know the difference. They are awfully high, and they go above the tree-line but below the snow line. The city is devided into the new city and the centro storico (historical centre), which is near where I am staying, and the hot place to be. Not hot as in temperature - it is FREEZING here, but all day people meander from piazza to piazza, looking at the shops.

On Saturday, when I arrived in Sulmona and was at the far hotel, I started to walk to the Centro Storico, and was asking directions of 3 men when they offered me a ride there, since they pointed to a far-off cathedral tip and said that was the city. Now, I know that rides with strangers is not generally a good idea, but an executive decision was made by my feet (and I kept a hand on the doorknob so I could hop out if necessary) and I took the ride. In the CS I was met by crowds of people just hanging out. The teenages were on the steps of the church flirting. The old men were by a statue, smoking and watching the people. Everyone was looking at confetti-flowers and munching gelato and pizza and walking arm-in-arm around the narrow streets. Even teenage boys kissed on the cheeks when they joined each other. I ate dinner at a restaurant where the waitress took personal offence that I was sitting alone at a table, and dragged the other lone diner over to eat with me. After the meal I walked to the taxi stand to find a ride back to the hotel. There were no taxis. There was, however, one of the judges of the competition, who talked french. She made a reservation for me at her hotel, and showed me to another taxi stand (no taxis there either), where a local man leisurely eating an ice cream cone offered to drive me back to the hotel. Aren't people nice!!

On Sunday all the stores were closed but the confetti stores. There is a 'keep stores closed on sunday' movement here, with signes on the shop windows. On Monday it was the 'riposa seminale' and most of the shops were closed also (strangely enough, in the evening, the only places open were confetti flower shops, and children's clothes stores). Today is Tuesday. Many shops are still closed. Also they all close mid-day for a nap.

It is time to run to rehearsal and to get my free food vouchers. Send good wishes for tonight!

Lucky Monday *or* I eat for free!

So, ieri ended up wonderful after all. Never mind that it rained all day and that I felt ill and that my back hurt so that every time I took a deep breath it cracked (ew. EW!) That is from slipping down a stone the day before I assume. Never mind that I was cold all day and took showers every hour or so just to keep warm (it was a very clean day too), and that the delicious pizza I ate for lunch burned the skin in my mouth so that it is hanging in strips. Don't I sound attractive??

However, the day ended bee-you-tifully! I advanced to the semi-finals in the competition here in Sulmona (I sing tonight again), which is not only wonderful and impressive, but the competition is now paying for my food and hotel. Free food and hotel! It is enough to spoil a poor traveller!

And then, just before I went to bed, I received a call from my mother - she checked my email for me while we were on the phone (strangely, checking email via mum long-distance is cheaper than going to a cafe and checking it here) and...I have been accepted to the South Africa Competition!!! For those who have not yet heard the story, the same week that my wordly sis was chosen to work for 3 years in South Africa, a *mysterious brochure* arrived in the mail. It was for a competition in Pretoria, South Africa - the same city where sis would be living. And (this is the best part) whomever was accepted (from CDs submitted) for the competition, would receive free airfare to South Africa from Anywhere in the World!! Look on Expedia - the cheapest flight to South Africa then is 5 000,00!!. I am sure that I could find a cheaper flight, but that is not the point. Sister, put a ribbon on your puppy and turn on the Jacuzzi I am coming!!

One last word on Belgian Competition

I met a Belgian girl here in Sulmoa in the competition. She could not sing a whit but that is not why I am writing this (oooh, but it was bad!). She got all excited when I mentioned that I had a KWAK beer cup and warned me that if I actually used the specially-made beer glass to actually drink beer I would end up covered in beer. I have written about this earlier. To reitirate, She felt it was her duty to warn me against using the beer glass to drink beer with. She is the third person who has told me this. Belgians are special.

However, that is not why I am writing this. I wanted to note that when the judges announced the winner of the Belgian competition, they were actually booed by the audience. Apparently it was widely known that the competition was fixed. Ususally the audience is all pleased with their uber-important judges and thinks their word is almost holy. So it must have been a really bad there. I am ALMOST sorry I missed it....

Expensive Internet

I cannot believe the cost of Internet in these first-world countries. 6Euros and hour. I am trying to get off the evil machine of money bleeding as fast as I can, and it is hard to concentrate because there are two guys here discussing the Middle East loudly. They were angry at me because I asked them to keep it down a but because it is expensive and I needed to concentrate (they were yelling) then they started yelling at me that it was not expensive after all. It IS. Growl.

So, last time I wrote anything I was spending my last day in Baden bei Wien. I left the cafe, sat on a bench, and watched the approaching clouds. It was about to pour, and I ran for the bucherai just in time. It started to rain, and continued all afternoon, but I was snug and cozyi n the bucherai.

After almost 4 hours I left and headed to the hotel. 2kms of hiking. I collected my luggage, and started the hike back. With luggage. It was along, heavy haul, but finally I arrived at the synagogue.

Not to say anything negative, because I know that they have to be careful about security. However, was it really necessary to lay all of my stuff out on the wet ground and hit at it with the scgurity wand? And then they would not even let me bring it in - they said that there was a "locked area" where I could leave my luggage. Sure. A locked area where the GARBAGE lives. I leaned my bags carefully against a garbage bin and covered it with a bit of plastic from the bin (don't forget, it had been pouring all afternoon). I was not in a good mood after this. Then the weilder of the security-wand turned to me with a hearty "Shabbat Shalom". Hm! I'm sure the shabbat would have been super if all my stuff had been ruined (or had absorbed the disgusting smell wafting from the open bins).

In the end, though, the synagogue was quite nice. It had just re-opened after renovations the week before. The women sat seperately, but they even came in jeans. The singing was good and the service was short. Sfterwards there was a sit-down meal of eggs (and soo many onions) and kugel and beans. Strange meal, but it was freee!

Then I was given a ride to the subway in Vienna. Imagine, a real ride in a real car. It was unheard-of luxury for this tired traveller.

At the airport I found a lovely bench (the nicest one in an Airport yet!) and waited out the night. Air Niki was great - there was tea (though I got the wierdest lookw hen I wasked for sugar and lemon. Am I crazy? Is that a tea faux-pas??) and even gourmet vegetarian sandwiches. Free food on an airplane!

In Roma I just (involving running) caught the train to Sulmona. Now, on a map Sulmona is not far from Rome. On the train it is a 3.5 hour trek. Including stops for smokes by the ticket-stamper and conductor, and a 30 minute stop to watch a wedding from the platform. Italy can be crazy sometimes.

My hotel in Sulmona turned out to be not in Sulmona at all, but really far away - taxis are really expensive, so I moved to another hotel that is right in the city, and an easy trak to anything.

The city is wonderful (If I was not so tired) It is cold and rainy today, but yesterday it was really nice. It is entirely surrounded by mountains, and is so cold (according to the locals) because it was snowing on a nearby mountain (You could see it in the distance). Actually, there was an ominous feel to the air all yesturday - like something was going to happen. And today rain. I am sure relieved it was not a Pompeii-esque firestorm or a Volcano!

This city is known for gorgeous "confetti" flowers, which are made from flat "confetti" chocolate candies. The flowers are charming. however, you can imagine the poor bride who would be pelted with such confetti. Hopefully at weddings they use the paper variety.

13 days and I go home. I am so tired!!