Postcard from Hungary

I first got to know Hungary and Hungarians from thousands of kilometers away, growing up in Toronto, Canada. I was listening to the stories of my father, a Hungarian political refugee who escaped from his home country in 1952. Then later in life I became a Hungarian and eventually bought a home in Budapest. Living part of my life now in the Hungarian capital, I see that some of the tumultuous times my father described to me still exist. Fortunately, other things make up for it.

I'll never forget covering a wild anti-government demonstration as a reporter in Budapest in October of 2006. Hundreds of rioters had stormed the main public broadcaster's TV building, and then later had closed down and barricaded one of the main bridges connecting Buda and Pest. As for me, I had to go to an eye clinic because I had developed an outrageous eye infection after being tear-gassed so much.

The political climate remains vitriolic today.

Fortunately, none of that can change what I love the most – the city. For me, there is nothing in this world that equals being on the banks of the Danube River between Buda and Pest on a boat-restaurant on a beautiful summer evening sipping a glass of Tokaji and reveling in the surroundings. And I can safely say that about the Hungarian capital after having been to four continents…

I still revel in the city's amazing architecture that is especially apparent on classy Andrassy Street with its addictive coffee houses. And you can get a quick history lesson of the country by simply going to Heroes' Square. As one Romanian tourist surveying the area once told me, "You can see here that they used to rule an empire."

Getting around Budapest via the subway is the best way to go to avoid the constant Budapest traffic jams. The joke in the hilly half of the capital – Buda – is that the moment any drops of rain fall, traffic there grinds to a halt. Sometimes, if I want to escape the hustle-and-bustle, I go to the wonderful oasis right on the Danube called Margaret Island. I usually go for a swim in the huge public pool there, but sometimes just a nice walk will do the trick. Before I know it, it's already nightfall.

And that's when I can appreciate the unusual talent that Hungarians have – they are incredibly musical. That's partly because music is a compulsory subject in schools for much longer than in other countries. Everyone seems to be able to play something. So, I try whenever I can to check out a Hungarian concert – be it pop or classical.

And now looking back on my own life, I understand why my father still pined half-a-century later for his homeland.

Author: Arpad Szoczi
Editor: Helen Seeney