English as a second language

Today's excursion: A lengthy tram ride along the Danube and out into the working class part of Budapest.  On the newer trams, the recorded announcements are in both Hungarian and English  when there's a connection to the metro.  Most restaurants and shops in touristy areas have signs in English -- the language that works for everyone.  Tourists from Germany, Holland, Austria, Italy and Switzerland all speak English as their second language.

Not only do we - and, to be fair, the Brits -- export our language.  We also export our food culture.  There are McDonald's at every metro stop. Subways and KFCs create a jarring contrast when paired with beautiful fin de siecle buildings.

And there is Hunglish -- words borrowed directly from the the language of marketing: polo, pullover, TV, whiskey, non-stop (24 hour store) and many more.

But Hungarian itself may prove impossible to learn.  Unlike French and German, there are no clues.  Take, for example, the word "tej." It means "milk."  But it's pronounced "tay," which sounds like the word for tea in French and German. Remarkably, tea means tea in Hungarian and English (and Basque, for those who care about such things).

There are few cognates that sound and mean the same thing in both English and Hungarian, except for words that have been borrowed. A person with a big English vocabulary can often puzzle out the meaning of words in Romance languages and German without actually knowing the language.  Not so in Hungarian.

Adventures in Budapest, 1

Veres Palne Utca

From my study window I see the Buda hills and the Erzebet Bridge, which is beautifully lit at night.. Step out onto the tiny balcony and I can see a dingy rose-colored building with a big hole in the roof.  Repairs were clearly started but not completed.  That may be the story of Budapest -- lovely sights, but still slightly battered.

But you wouldn't know that Hungary was part of the Soviet bloc until relatively recently by looking at our street. Right next door is a shop that sells only single malt whiskey. Next to that is a coffee shop with a sign in English, "Hot chocolate to go." There's a dressmaker, a fruit and veg store that sells Canadian squash -- who knew that the neighbors to the north exported veggies -- a jewelry store, an ice cream shop, a bar, a restaurant (open 12:00 noon to 12:00 midnight), some kind of financial business -- perhaps a commercial bank -- and that is just our block. Two blocks away is the Vaci Utca, where one can eat, drink, stroll and purchase goods from Hugo Boss, H & M, Nike and Lacoste and a variety of German stores.

Lots of tourists, but lots of Hungarians, too, crowding the outdoor cafes even during 45-degree weather.  And what am I if not a tourist, albeit a long-term one?  Loving it.

Live from New York

OLGS and domtran are in NYC, and have been for almost three months. There have been visits from two of the sons, many movies, church services, concerts, lectures, walks in the park, and frequent meals at our neighborhood brasserie.  We are the opposite of the people who say that New York is a nice place to visit but wouldn't want to live there.  I think it's a nice place to live but wouldn't want to visit -- too overwhelming.

Yet Another Hungarian Actor Makes it Big

Did you know this?  I sure didn't, but the great English actor Leslie Howard -- the dreamy Ashley Wilkes from Gone With the Wind -- had a Hungarian father.  OLGS thought that ol' Leslie was a Hungarian immigrant, and could not believe that the quintessential gent could have mastered the King's English so beautifully.  However, Leslie was born in England with the last name of Stainer (changed from Steiner so it wouldn't sound so German during WWI).

Innocents abroad, or Joe's visit to Colombia

Joe College Grad is off again -- this time to Colombia.  He's moving fast, and has made it to St. Gil, a colonial city that looks quite lovely.  Ah, to be young and healthy.

Eastern Europe

We've been back from our trip to Vienna, Budapest and Romania for almost two months, but the glow lingers. Vienna, where OLGS was working with Austrian colleagues, is rich, accessible, clean and very western. Budapest is more gritty, with many remnants of Soviet-style architecture, a significant police presence, and fewer English speakers. But that's OK, 'cause OLGS speaks Hungarian. And there are the broad boulevards, the elaborate fin de siecle apartment buildings, the cute trams, and an atmosphere that conveys, "Yes, we were once grand and could be again. Just give us time." But Romania?

In some ways it's a throwback. Donkey carts, lumbering, exhaust-spewing trucks, and many, many Roma people who are universally despised by the Romanians. It's what I imagine Alabama to have been in the 1920's. And the reminders of the Ceaușescu regime -- huge dams and factories, extreme poverty, suspicion and fear -- linger still. But the Hungarian-speaking village where we stayed in Transylvania is both very poor and very rich -- self sufficient in so many ways, dedicated to the children's education and improvement, and living out their heritage every day.

Will we return?  You betcha.

Leaving Flyover Land -- Temporarily

OLGS and Domtran are off on another adventure, this time to eastern Europe, with a stop in central Massachusetts. While we are absent from the land of 10,000 swamps, some of the Joes will be living chez nous, supervising Mitzi the cat, the carpenters who are working on the house, and making sure that the snow, if any in this winter of global warming, is removed from the walkways.

And it will be good to both leave town and come back -- maybe to spring?

Global Warming in Minnesota

OK, global warming foes. We're not just making it up. By this time, early February in the Land of Lakes, we have usually had dozens -- at least two -- of days where the thermometer went below zero. That's what we're known for -- the coldest major population center with ridiculous winter temps. We take pride in it.

There have been only a couple of below zero days so far this winter. And those were at night. None of that stuff where the afternoon temp never went into positive territory. Moreover, we've had no snow. The total is around six inches since November in the Twin Cities. What's up with this?

And they just released the revised gardening zones. We are definitely not anywhere near zone 3 anymore. In fact, in some places in MN, we're barely in zone 4. And because there's no snow cover, on those few occasions when the temp has dipped into the teens or single digits, I worry about freezing. Snow is a wonderful insulator for plants, even those supposed to be hardy in zone 3. We might as well be living in Iowa.

Obviously the global warming naysayers have not been here recently. Probably never been here, in fact.

St. Augustine

A quick break to the sunny south -- and it was indeed sunny. Glorious weather, amazing beaches (especially for January), and finally an understanding of why people like Florida. It's not just a swamp.

We stayed in Atlantic Beach, near Jacksonville, at a funky little hotel, the Palms Retro. Each room has a theme, with murals, music and books that match. We stayed in the Beach room, with a mural of a Woody beach wagon -- ever wonder why old timers call station wagons beach wagons? That's why. Accommodating managers who stayed up late to let us check in past the usual 7 PM checkin deadline. However, the nicest part was the lovely courtyard, with fountain, tables and umbrellas and hibiscus in bloom. Take that, Minnesota!

Off the next day to St. Augustine, which touts itself as the oldest city in America -- that is, if you leave out the southwest Pueblos and other city-building Indians. Anyway, St. Augustine was an interesting place, trying hard to market its historical significance. Lots of schlock -- Gator Bob's, people dressed up as Spaniards, and too many venues with "olde" in the title. However, the story of St. Augustine should not be dismissed. Burned to the ground by the Brits in the 1790s, the city has little left of its Spanish origins except a remarkable fort and a few houses.

Equally interesting is the role of Henry Flagler, the Standard Oil magnate, who built several St. Augustine hotels in the late 19th century so that his friends could join him for the winter season. The hotels have been converted to other uses; one has a new life as a dormitory at Flagler College. These are not your usual student lodgings.

Cedar Street, a block from the college, is home to several bed and breakfast establishments that were all lit up through January and that looked very festive. We stayed at Journey's End, a B & B run by Tim and John, with devoted assistance from Raleigh, their dog. They are friendly and helpful hosts, providing not only excellent served breakfasts but snacks, drinks and useful recommendations for restaurants and sightseeing.

And the beaches around St. Augustine are pretty special.

Thanksgiving 2011

Kind of a somber Turkey Day in some ways, but nice meal with boys and a couple of friends here in the city of lakes. But there are so many people suffering, and the yahoos get all the press and attention in their efforts to promote the "I got mine, you get yours" motif. Makes it hard to gloat over abundance.

And the narrative never changes -- a 19th century painting by Jean Louis Gerome Ferris (1863-1930) shows the begging Indians taking bounty from the well-dressed colonists, when, in reality, it was quite the other way around.

Who Knew? Ramsey County Courthouse

Sometimes the most mundane transactions have a wonderful, and unanticipated, benefit. For example, yesterday afternoon, in an effort to avoid a $200 fine for failing to show proof of insurance, OLGS and I drove to the Ramsey County court building in downtown St. Paul. Everything augered in my favor: there was on street parking right across from the entrance; the security guard didn't yell at me when I forgot to remove my cell phone from my purse; and there was no line in the traffic violations bureau.

All good. But the most amazing benefit was the building itself. This Art Deco treasure was built in 1932, during the depths of the great depression. It is full of marble, granite, onyx, dozens of different types of wood and stone, bronze, parquet and gold leaf. Although the exterior is not as jazzy, it contains several reliefs depicting workers going about their business -- police officers, mail men, and a newspaper boy, among others. This focus on labor would never fly in the Minnesota of 2011. But then, we would never build a civic monument so exuberant, either.

What a wonderful discovery. And I got out of the fine, too.

Hacked!

Here at Domestic Tranquility we're feeling a bit out of things. My email was hacked, releasing a flood of Viagra-related messages on unwitting friends, relations and strangers whose presence in my contacts list was long forgotten.

I am trying to regard this as a blessing in disguise. I will tighten up security, get a new email account, change all the services linked to the old email, etc., etc. I'm trying to avoid telling myself that I should have done this years ago. Beating yourself up does no good in this heat.

Touring Vicksburg National Military Park

The Wisconsin teachers group had a full day at the Vicksburg National Military Park: the orientation video at 8:00 a.m.; demonstration of musketry and artillery fire (black powder but no live fire); tour of the Union and Confederate defenses, and many photo opportunities at the various Wisconsin regimental monuments. In some ways, the highlight of the day was an evening stroll through the park where a small group of teachers met some Vicksburgers on their walk. The dialogue went something like this:

V-burgers: "Good evening."
W-teachers: "Good evening."
V-burgers: "You're not from around here. Where are you from?"
W-teachers: "Wisconsin."
V-burgers: "Why did you come to Vicksburg."
W-teachers: "We're teachers, learning Civil War & Reconstruction history."
V-burgers: "Teachers? Wisconsin? Were you involved in that collective bargaining thing?"
W-teachers: "Yes."
V-burgers: "We're on your side. We're praying for you."
W-teachers: "Thank you."

Arrival in Vicksburg

Partly Cloudy

97°/74°

The Wisconsin teachers group arrived in Memphis on time, indeed, ahead of time, ate breakfast at the "Arcade Restaurant" across from the Amtrak station, got our bus for Mississippi, and after a stop at the Smith-Robertson Museum of African-American history & culture in Jackson, we motored onto Vicksburg. The *Vicksburg Daily News* says the temperature is 97 degrees F, which I do believe. Time for a quick dip in the motel pool, and then off to a catfish & hush-puppies dinner catered by "Rowdy's Family Restaurant" and an evening lecture at the Vicksburg National Military Park by one of the National Park Service historians. Stay cool and stay hydrated !

--OLGS, guest blogger

Peter Lorre, Hungarian Actor

Want a somewhat obscure movie that is actually pretty good? Try Rope of Sand, made in 1949, starring Burt Lancaster, Paul Henried, Claude Rains and Peter Lorre. Lorre, born Laszlo Lowenstein in a part of Slovakia that was in Hungary when he was born, specialized in playing sleazy or villianous characters whose moral weaknesses usually put a spanner in the works for the hero. However in Rope of Sand, his role is more that of a narrator or chorus, but still with his trademark Hungarian-German accent.