Once upon a time in Hungary

Dear diary,

The other day I found in my mailbox a postcard from my Hungarian friend, Ferenc, or Feri as I prefer to call him. Ten days ago, or so, while we were chatting on gtalk, I told him about my famous postcard collection and asked him to send me one from Shetlands, where he was at the time on a business trip. He took a very nice postcard for me but since the post office was closed, it was sent from Szombathely, a lovely Hungarian town that used to be my home during the spring semester in 2008. I never spoke about those months on blog, although I always had the intention to do it. However, that year was one of the best periods of my life and deserves a special chapter.

To start a Hungarian story, I have to tell you that at the time I was doing my MA in Italy, in Forlì to be precise. The course consisted of two years of study, the first in Italy, the second one abroad. No one forced me to choose as a destination Kőszeg, a small but very beautiful Hungarian town in the region Vas. Actually, everybody was making fun of me because of that, asking me what I was going to do in the middle of nowhere, in the country whose language I even didn't speak. The official excuse was that my thesis topic was on Hungarian minority in Serbia and that I would, I was convinced, learn Hungarian language in a less than a year. At the moment I couldn't even imagine that moments I lived in those months would be so intense and important.

It was the end of September of 2007 when I left Trento and moved to the Vas region. For someone, like me, who was living in the north of Serbia for a while, coming to Hungary was like going back home to certain extent. I remember clearly that day, when we got to the Austrian - Hungarian border. The police officer didn't want to allow my dad to enter the country because he was not in posses of visa. Hungary at the time was not yet in Schengen, and regardless my father was the EU resident, by law he was not allowed to pass. Luckily there was Ferenc, from the beginning of story, who was my Hungarian contact in case of need, and he managed to arrange things. Actually, that was how we met for the first time. Later he brought me to the dormitory. I was so thrilled to meet the other students. In those first months, my roommate was a Russian girl Masha and we got allong quite well.

The group of students was small but particular, mixed of Hungarian and foreign students. A part of Masha, there was another Russian, Anya, three Turkish girls, Simge from Istanbul, Zeynep and Gokten from Ankara,  two guys from Kosovo Atdhe and Shqiprim, and the rest were Hungarians, Petra, Dori, Nora, Eszther, Delinke, called Delcsi, Gabor and already mentioned Feri. Our lessons took place in the European House, and it was really a sort of home, a place where we studied but also had moments of relax and fun. I liked most lunch time, when we would go to the local restaurants. In the first semester we were going all the time to the Irottko, and there was also a very nice pizzeria, called Rocco where we used to spend our evenings playing billard and chatting. While in the second semester, there was also another place, called Wich kitchen, or better Borszorkánykonyha (Thanks to Eszti who reminded me).

I had really great time in those first months.  My closest friend, even today we are still in contact, was the Turkish girl, Simge, born the same day as me, 4th December. For that particular reason, although I am six years older, that we call each other sister. Somehow, being a part of ISES (Institute for Social and European studies, guided by prof. Ferenc Miszlivetz) is really like being part of a family, and no matter that time passes by, life continues, the spirit never passes away. I was speaking about that with Feri the other evening. There is a girl from Ankara, called Pinar, who studied at the institute the year before I came, but we got connected and became friends, although we never had a real chance to meet. ISES connects people, and that's great!

I liked so much being in Hungary that I decided, at some point, to extend my permanence to another semester. Due to the fact that my Russian lessons were in Szombathely, the capital of the Vas region, after Christmas break I moved there. In the morning I would get up early to catch up a bus that would bring me to Kőszeg. I was not alone, there was a new Russian girl, Zlata, who was staying at the other dormitory, to make me company. In the second term the group changed a bit. Gabor went in Erasmus in my Forlì, new girls arrived, as Dora Preszeller, now living in Italy, Agnes, or Agi, and Veronika. There was a guy called Roland. Maybe I forgot someone, not easy to remember after all those years.

In that semester I had a little misadvanture. In March 2008, I went to visit Dori Preszi, she was organizing the 8th March party and my flight back to Italy, I had some university meeting, was the day after from Vienna. Dori lives in Gyor, so it was so easy for me to get to Vienna from there (and took less time, too). Unfortunately, when I arrived to the train station, I met a woman who robbed me. It was quite unpleasant situation, in a foreign country, with my Italian permit of stay stolen too, my credit cards, money, etc. Luckily there was Dori and her mum, who helped me economically to get to Vienna and arrive home safely. Funny enough that the thief decided to send all my documents to the Szombathely dormitory (inside of my wallet there was my Hungarian student id). Luckily, it ended well but at that moment it was not as funny as it is now.

Those months of my life in Kőszeg and Szombathely were so nice, so positive; I learned new things and met really great people. Had a lot of fun, too. The period I spent in Hungary will be always part of my memories, and I will remember it, with affection, for long time. Once maybe I'll go back for a visit. It would be interesting to see how much those places changed. Or not.

Thanks to all Hungarian, and not only, friends who made my student exchange perfect. Hope to meet you all one day. 

Les Providences.. good, old days I miss

Dear diary,

It's been almost ten years since I moved to Italy, as I already mentioned, and sometimes I feel like it was yesterday. No, I do not feel old, I just feel a sort of nostalgy for good old days when everything was so easy, so different, so...so... I can not find the right adjective right now but I know that exists.. You know what I mean? When you are young, you do not care about problems, you just feel happy, no matter happends. More you grow up, more problems you have. As my mum would say, small children, small problems. Big children, big problem. The fact is that I am not a child anymore, although dad says that I am acting like this. However, I would totally disagree. My only problem is that I feel so depressed, or better, I thought I was depressed, but I realized on time that I was wrong. It's easier to invent various illnesses instead to face the reality, and reality is not that noir. On the contrary. My reality is colorful. Sometimes darker, usualy very bright and to this bright reality I need to be attached to. My reality is my family and my friends, athough most of them are far away but we will be always united, thanks to common memories and where these memories will lead me tonight? Right to the convitto!

I spent my first university year at the catholic dormitory for girls, called Convitto delle suore della providenza, where I met my Providences: Fabiola, Alessandra, Clara e Giorgia, without whom my first university year would not be the same, maybe worse, especially if I take into consideration the very strict nun, suor Adeodata, who was always there to keep an eye on us. There were certain rules to be followed.... And where you are young, how can you obey rules? No way, especially if the rule says: Come back home at 10 p.m. To be honest, there were days with no rules, when we could come back at any hour, wednesday, the famous mercoledì universitorio, and saturday, but the problem was that on almost hundred girls there were only three entrance keys. Big confusion! Until we found the way out by hiding the key under a doormat. I remember, once my mum came to visit me, I was at the third year and girls at the time had their own flat, and it was an ordinary week day. We went out but obviously, when we returned home, it was almost 1 a.m. No key, no party would say George Clooney, but then I discovered a secret path from the neighbouring hospital leading to the basement of our dormitory. Actually, the girls discovered it but it was a really big invention and solution of all our problems, and not only for me but also for the following generations.

The life in a catholic dormitory was not always that bad. I liked holiday time, especially before Christmas, when we would organize a big party, with a mass. I am not catholic, I am orthodox and at the beginning I was so afraid of going into their church because I was convinced that it was forbidden. But then, I remember it clealy, it was Sunday before our first exam, my friends ask me to go to a mass with them. I was a bit confused but after a priest from the dormitory told me that we were all christians, I decided to go. First thing I noticed, everyone was sitting. At the orthodox church, during a mass, we always stand up. And the other strange thing for me it was that everybody was singing. I like a lot to sing, at school I was a membre of choir, so for me it was the best part of the mass. By time passed, I learned all religious chants and for every Christmas I was there, ready to sing. And my heart was full of happiness. Every and each time I was happy because I was surrounded with friends and they all were for me a sort of family, nuns includeed. They thought me some things for which I will be always grateful to them, especially a cooking nun.

Before coming to Italy, I was really a big disaster in the kitchen. I was not even able to prepare a simple coffee. My best speciality was the instant pasta. You know that receipe, right? You put a water to boil and then you add pasta and powder from the paper bank. In ten minutes, your lunch or dinner is ready. It's not maybe that tasty but with some parmigiano it's perfect or better say eatable. After some time time I learned to cook, I even improved myself in cooking. I won't be a super chef but my cakes are great! I like to prepare cakes and sweets. I am quite a gourmand. One of my Providences, Giorgia, used to call me diabete because of sweets, I can not say no to them. Never. Luckily, I am not a model, nor would like to be. I like myself the way I am. Although I should loose some weight. Poco.

I would like to end my story with nuns with one particular memory. I was almost to become a suora. The nuns thought that I would be a perfect nun, they even thought to convert me into Catholicism. Could you see me as a nun? In black and white? No, not me. No offence, but I am happy to be an Orthodox, although my name does not sound christian. And to be honest, I prefer other colors. And no, I am not speaking about the foodball! But if you want to know, I prefer black and blu. Whatever that means.