Hitch-hiking in Romania

I easily let Beniamin, my couch-surfer host, talk me into hitch-hiking in Romania. It's very normal here, and customary to pay the driver for petrol. But now it's seeming less and less like a good idea. With my basic command of the Hungarian language, I've forgotten how easy it is to misunderstand each other when you don't even have a basic command of the language of the land, and to thus get completely confused and lost.

We exited his flat and he said I'll catch a bus to the city centre and hitch at the crossroads there. He assured me that in 2 years riding this bus, he had never been checked for his ticket. I insisted I wanted one anyway. At a vendor, she had no change so we just left. We walked for a while and when we approached a big street, a bus pulled up and he said "jump on, it's your bus! Get off after five stops!" As the doors closed, I realized I had no ticket. This really stressed me out, partially because I thought I'd get caught, but especially because it was just morally wrong. At each minute I got more concerned about cheating the system. Then my phone rang. "Get off that bus, it's the wrong one! I saw it turn the wrong way. Sorry!!! Catch a tram to December 1st St." So I jumped off the bus, relieved that I was no longer free-loading. Then I saw that trams go at least four different directions from there. Ugh. In Hungarian, English, German, and mostly mime, some women explained that I need the negro tram. Another moment of confusion before I recognized that English's Latin roots can be handy! After 20 minutes and a yellow tram and red tram passed by, the black tram finally arrived. I had asked a teenager if I could buy a ticket on the tram. Yes. Great. I got on. No said the driver. Get it over there he pointed. Then it left.

(It reminded me of my train ride to Oradea. I couldn't always see the station names and the train was behind schedule. So as it approached a large station I gathered my things, and asked a young woman if this was Oradea. "Oradea, yes," pointing straight down. So I scrambled to get off the train. But I couldn't open the door! I panicked as the train pulled away. But then I saw what must have been the station name, a very long name starting with a P. Good thing I couldn't figure out the door!)

So back at the tram stop, I got my ticket, and waited as trams of various colours, except black, came and went. Finally I got my tram, found the road to Cluj, came around the corner prepared for a hitch-hiking adventure. My heart sank. There were already about a dozen people there waiting for rides. Ugh. So I went 50 m down the street, propped up my bag (by far the largest one in the group, unfortunately) with a big Canadian flag on it, and put out my thumb. I also had a sign that Beniamin made for me: CJ for Cluj. So I thought the flag and the sign would better my chances over the others. Then I noticed that two beautiful single women were in the mix. But they didn't get rides first. Is there a system here?? Then a nice looking couple arrived with a sign "CJ" and set up beside me. Ugh. I watched the dozen others get rides, 1 by 1 or 2 by 2. Others replaced them. I started to squirm. Hide the flag? Remove the outback hat? What if it starts to get dark?

I think it was about 45 minutes before a little truck pulled over beside me. What a relief. The driver was a really nice guy named Rodu?, and he spoke a few English and a few Hungarian words. He called his friends occasionally to ask how to say so-and-so in Hungarian so we could chat a little.

After a few serious hills and valleys, countryside and villages, traffic slowed and we entered Cluj. He took me directly to the city centre square where I met my next couch-surfing host. And this sweet guy wouldn't except any payment from me, despite the custom.

Baha'i activities (part III): Study Circles!

One of the community building activities that I've been trying to participate in, and trying to help establish is the "study circle".  Basically, these are circles of study, open to all, that enable people of varied backgrounds to advance on equal footing and explore the application of teachings to their individual and collective lives.  Baha'is have developed a sequence of courses that help us along various paths of service.  The first book is called "Reflections on the Life of the Spirit."

Below is the first study circle I joined in Hungary.  It was conducted in English, Persian, and a little Hungarian!  That's me, Kitti, Mina, Mahtab, and Mansoureh.  I think we were discussing how backbiting quenches the light of the heart.

At Mansoureh's apartment, I'm participating in a study circle.

And what activity at Mansoureh's doesn't end with dancing?

Here's a study circle I started at the Baha'i Centre (in my bedroom essentially!)  I'd like to thank (from left going clockwise) Ancsa, Veronika, Bence, Ildiko, Zoli, (and Tamas and Dan, not in photo) for all the beautiful, fulfilling, and soul-searching discussions.  Good luck as you continue this study circle without me!

We're discussing how the betterment of the world can be accomplished through good deeds.

Baha'i activities (part II): Feast in Budapest & the NSA

Every 19 days the Baha'is have a "Feast".  That doesn't mean that we eat a lot of food, but that may also happen.  We do this because the Baha'i calendar has 19 days each month and 19 months per year.  For more on the Baha'i calendar, or to see a pretty representation of it go to: The Baha'i Calendar

I usually forget to bring my camera to Baha'i Feast, but I have a few things to show nonetheless.  There have been 4 Feasts since I've been in Hungary.  For one of them, I was at the Baha'i Centre in Budapest.

a group of Baha'is still hanging around after Feast in Budapest

Inside this Baha'i Centre the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha'is of Hungary also meet.  I really thought I felt the spiritual power of that institution lingering in the room!

a place where the NSA of Hungary consults

Speaking of the National Spiritual Assembly of Hungary: they came to Debrecen to visit the friends there and  meet with them.  I realize I'm on a bit of a tangent here, but let's run with it.

the meeting of the NSA of Hungary with the friends from Debrecen

This was a beautiful social event filled with great food and great conversations.  Later in the day the NSA members wanted to visit the grave of a previous pioneer who passed away here in Debrecen: Mrs. Afnan.  I mentioned her before.  It's in her old flat that I'm staying, which is now the Baha'i Centre in Debrecen.

gathering around Mrs. Afnan's grave

I was thrilled to tag along.  After taking the above picture we offered a few prayers for the progress of her soul.  It was very powerful for me to be with members of the NSA of Hungary, praying in a cemetery over the grave a powerhouse of a pioneer, Mrs. Afnan.

Baha'i activities (part I): a reflection gathering

Although I'm having a great time in Hungary, it's about time that I share some photos and thoughts about the true reason that I'm here: to assist the Baha'i community in Debrecen.  What is the Baha'i community of Debrecen trying to do, such that it needs assistance, you may ask?  All over the world, Baha'is are involved in "a process that seeks to raise capacity withing a population to take charge of its own spiritual, social and intellectual development."  If you haven't seen it already, it may be worth going back to a post called "community building" which gives a bit of background on the types of activities Baha'is try to help initiate towards these lofty goals.

Unfortunately, I often forget to take photographs when I'm at Baha'i events.  But I do have a few.  Let's start with a reflection gathering that happened a couple weeks ago here in the Debrecen Baha'i Centre where I'm staying.  This type of meeting happens usually every three months.  As the name implies, we gather together and reflect on the activities in the area and try to determine our immediate steps forward.

me and some of my Baha'i friends at our reflection meeting

At this type of meeting we usually share stories, reflect on experiences, and consult about future activities.  This time, we also studied some guidance from the Universal House of Justice, which is the supreme Institution for the Baha'is.   (Click here for more info about the Universal House of Justice.)
It was exciting for us to have Baha'is visiting from another part of the country, to help us with our study and to help put things into perspective in the whole country.  Most of the meeting was bilingual for the visitors like me.

more friends at the same meeting

We heard an exciting announcement at this meeting: Dan and Jeane, two pioneers from the States, held up their passports and displayed their new three year visas!  I'm only staying for three months, but these two are here for the long haul!

an exciting announcement

Congratulations Dan and Jeane!

Halloween

Okay, this post is obviously way overdue.  I don't think I have much to say, but there are some pictures to share.  In Hungary they don't do Halloween.  I did see some of the younger generation dressed up for parties, but only a few. Instead, they have the much more serious Day of the Dead, which I've documented extensively already.  But the American Corner here wanted to bring some essence of Halloween to Debrecen.  I'll let you decide if they captured it successfully, judging as best as you can from my photos and some I borrowed from the American Corner facebook page.

the beautiful hall

the judges

one team of my friends: Bori, Kitti (best original costume: Anne Hall), Meghan, and Anna

unconventional tools, very gruesome!

the doctors (they won best team costume!)

more friends: Veronika and Ancsa

the final contestants

one of the top prize winners

yay, Ancsa and Veronika won a prize! (No favoritism, let's hope...)

the whole group!

For more images feel free to visit the American Corner facebook Halloween album at:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=320554&id=38289193271

There isn't much for me to say about this event.  It was well done, and a lot of fun.  The responsibility as a judge was actually a bit heavy for me, but I survived.  There were lots of categories and plenty of prizes, so I didn't get any death threats for accusations of favoritism, although some of friends must have been wondering...

Day of the Dead (part III): visiting my grandpa's grave

It is understandable if people begin to worry about me, dwelling at such length on this theme.  I can assure everyone that I'm in a very healthy mental state, and enjoying life to the fullest.  The dead, no doubt, can help us with that. There is just so much beauty and wonder to be found in these cemeteries; I'm excited to soon share some awe inspiring experiences with crows in a future post: wildlife part II! 

But for now I'm streaming a somafm station called "Doomed: dark music for tortured souls", just to get me into the mood!  I thought of saving such music for writing about my halloween post, but it wasn't spooky either, and my soul just remains inspired, rather than tortured. (Okay, they were just playing a John Carpenter track with a lot of horror film screaming, so I switched to "Lush", a mellow and sensuous station.)

So on the actual evening of Day of the Dead, I traveled to Vecses, where my grandmother is visiting from Canada and where my grandfather decided he should be buried, at great expense, although he passed away in Canada.  It doesn't make it easy for my grandmother to visit him, that's for sure.

Vecses' cemetery, just outside of Budapest

We arrived at twilight, my favourite time of day (and perhaps least favourite movie series.)  You can get a sense of the beautiful vista I beheld at that time, shown above.  Without a tripod or professional camera, these ultra-low light photos were quite challenging.

Entering the cemetery was quite the experience too.  One thing that I didn't capture in my photos is the enormous crowd that was there: hundreds of families dressed up but mostly in black, carrying candles and flowers and wreaths.  We approached in a car, me in the back, my grandmother in the front, and Marika, my cousin and my grandmother's niece, driving.  There was no parking anywhere.  We went, with much difficulty through the monstrous crowds, to the front gate where a police officer was shaking his head and waving his arms in a clear "no way!" signal.  Marika put down her window and pleaded with him, stating honestly that my grandmother can't walk much at all.  My astonishment just grew as we entered the cemetery in the little car, the crowd gradually parting around us.  It became clear to me that this was the only car inside the cemetery gates.  Crawling at a slow walking pace, our headlights lit up myriad faces, all wide eyes and frowns, as they scurried between gravestones to let us through.  Although I wouldn't know anyone there, I nevertheless felt the need to crouch down in the back seat and hide. 

Peeking out the window, the spectacle of ornamentation drew me into the mystery of this time of year once again.

We pulled over behind a big trash bin filled with flower stems, near my grandpa's resting place.  If you look carefully at the photo below, you can see Marika placing a candle on the grave, on its left side, and my grandmother is a dark figure on the far left.

my Grandfather's grave, Ujfalussy Laszlo

I had no idea what would happen here. Marika tidied up the grave, re-lit some candles, and replaced some that had wept all their wax away already.  I helped, and tried my best to capture the moment on film.  Then we stood.  And stared.  Stood and occasionally shook off a mild chill. No words.  When you don't know what to do, or what's happening, it can be quite awkward, which it was for me. After a while, stretched long by awkwardness, I timidly asked in Hungarian if I could say a prayer.  Unfortunately, I don't know any prayers in Hungarian by heart.  So I said the only Holy writing in Hungarian I have memorized, the first of Baha'u'llah's Hidden Words: 


"Ó szellem fia! Első tanácsom ez: legyen szíved tiszta, jóságos és sugárzó, hogy ősi uralmad soha el ne múljon és mindörökké tartson."


("O son of Spirit! My first counsel is this: possess a pure, kindly, and radiant heart, that thine may be a sovereignty ancient, imperishable, and everlasting.")


Immediately after I finished, they both said "az szép" (that's beautiful), so I felt pretty good about the strange choice, my only choice really.


Then we stood and stared some more.

Not until well afterward did I begin to consider what my grandmother may have been doing; and perhaps I should have given her more time alone there than the few moments when I stole away to sneak some photos.  When we came to this grave a couple weeks ago, during the day, it was the same type of standing and staring.  A quiet way of mourning, I later considered?  But I couldn't help but think it was more of a paralysis caused by an inability to express oneself, or due to a lack of healthy traditions around mourning.  I've seen Italian women wail and beat the ground.  It may seem incredibly awkward or inappropriate in our culture, but it must feel good to really let out your emotions that way.


I've since been speaking with friends here about visiting cemeteries.  Ancsa (sounds like on-chah) is a Hungarian elementary school teacher who shared with me that it brings her peace in her heart to visit her grandmother's grave.  Ancsa talks to her, and feels like her grandmother is with her there.  I found that very touching and realized that my grandmother may have been doing that, but obviously not out loud with us standing right there.

my Grandmother's sister: Maria, who we called Keresztmama

And then there is my Czech friend Veronika who told me that for her a cemetery is a place of peace and stillness, where it is completely normal to hang around and cry.  You certainly won't be judged or draw attention to yourself if you cry in a cemetery.  So she would go there in times of difficulty and do just that: cry freely.  

the compulsory self-portrait

I love feelings of melancholy, wonder, and awe; so I often seek out these feelings.  Cemeteries seem to help me that way.  I never considered talking to those there that are eternally physically still and quiet, yet spiritually dancing and singing.

some more relatives

The next time I'm in Vecses, I'll try to initiate a conversation with my grandfather and see what happens.  Of course, I don't believe we need physical proximity to their remains to do this, but it might inspire us, and besides, it seems like it might be tradition.

cremation towers?

The Day of the Dead was a while ago, and I apologize for the lapse in posts.  I caught a cold.  But I'm feeling better.  Yesterday I got out into the unseasonally beautiful 19 degrees for mid November.  Where did I go?  Well I planned to go to the great forest, which boarders the cemetery.  Once again, the cemetery drew me in.  I realized I'd never been to Debrecen's cemetery during daylight!

this guys seems to have caught a pike with his bare hands; not sure why he's at the cemetery...

more cremation towers? (in Debrecen)

Last weekend the Debrecen Baha'i community had the great honour of a visit from the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha'is of Hungary.  They met with the Local Spiritual Assembly and with some of the friends here, and to my great pleasure, they met with me as well.  Also, I had the great bounty of going with them to the Debrecen cemetery to visit Mrs. Afnan's grave.  It's her previous residence where I'm staying.

Hungary's NSA and friends getting ready to pray at Mrs. Afnan's grave

Standing by her grave and praying with members of the National Spiritual Assembly was very, very powerful for me.

the vendors out front

road to the Debrecen cemetery

Day of the Dead (part I)

If you're trying to follow the "when" of my adventures, don't bother.  It's very confusing and I apologize for all the anachronisms.  I'm back from my trip to Veszprem and Vecses, but haven't yet had a chance to blog about older, more interesting topics, like the special holiday here on November 1st: the day of the dead.  I'm especially excited because I've been filled with profound thoughts and I really love some of the photos I took in various cemeteries.

When I heard about the day of the dead, I was eager to travel to Vecses where I could join my family to mourn our dead on Nov. 1st. A brief disclaimer: I don't personally believe in mourning the dead, feeling that it is somewhat selfish.  We mourn our loss and usually ignore their gain.  As Baha'u'llah says: "I have made death a messenger of joy to thee.  Wherefore dost thou grieve?"  Much of the time, I think death forces us to consider our own mortality, and I guess that can be worrisome.

In the last 8 days, I've been to many cemeteries, in daylight and moonlight, and pitch-blackness.  I honestly did not have the slightest notion of fear.  Every time I was filled with awe, sometimes melancholy, and often joy.  Seems crazy?  Or can we consider it a healthy attitude rooted in confidence and wisdom, thanks to my Faith?  This reminds me of Green Day: "Am I retarded or am I just over-joyed?"  Or what about the episode of Northern Exposure where young Ed finds out how old his friend Roseanne is, freaks out for a while thinking she could die at any moment, and eventually deals with it by buying her a plot of remote land for her grave.  They hike there and the episode ends with the two of them dancing on her grave.  No dancing going on in western graveyards, as far as I know, but I really felt like it lately.
(Oh ya, I took part in the Thrill the World, record breaking simultaneous dance to Thriller last year at Halloween; that almost counts!)

Which reminds me of a really wonderful devotional gathering that I went to a couple of weeks ago.  It was devoted to people that we lost.  We took turns talking about the things we remember about them or the things that made them special.  I spoke about my grandfather and my best friend Terry who passed a few years ago, in his 30's, from melanoma.  Then we said some prayers for the progress of their souls.  I said one of my favourite prayers for Terry, which has the following line in it: "... cause him to enter Thy glorious paradise, and perpetuate his existence in Thine exalted rose garden, that he may plunge into the sea of light in the world of mysteries."

So after saying a few prayers, in English, Persian, and Swedish (but not Hungarian!) we lit a few candles and moped a bit.  Then I thought of Terry and realized he wouldn't want it that way, so we cranked some music and danced.  I had such a great time; it just felt so good!

The "day of the dead" experience started on Sunday night, Oct. 31st: the night of the eve of the day of the dead? Awkward.  I was still in Debrecen, so a small group of us got together and went to the main cemetery.  After a tram ride, it was still a pretty long walk in pitch dark, with an awe inspiring spread of stars.  Like a true geeky science guy, I pointed out a constellation (Cassiopeia) and star cluster (the seven sisters.)  We arrived and viewed what should have been an eerie vista, but I was just overwhelmed with the beauty of it all, and somewhat obsessed with capturing it on my crappy camera.  Of course, these shots don't do the experience justice...

a statue by the gate

that's me; self-timed with my camera on the ground

Weaving around between graves, on an awkward stumbling trek, Mansoureh showed me to Mrs. Afnan's grave.  She passed away a few years ago, leaving her beautiful big residence to the Baha'i community of Debrecen.  That's where I'm now staying!  So we paused at her grave and prayed for her soul too.  We were surrounded by thousands of candles wearily trying to fight back a chilly dark night, and we realized that both of our prayers mentioned light: her's I think mentioned "light upon light" and mine "plunge into the sea of light, in the world of mysteries."

There were five of us there in that cemetery; that is, five of us above ground with our souls still attached. All the mourning families who placed these candles were gone.  The five of us didn't seem to talk much that night.  If it was a reverence for the dead, or a numbing sense of awe, or just a wave of contemplation, I'm not sure. I grabbed the following quote from a facebook comment (thanks Meghan! Anything on facebook is public domain, right?) "It was SO very beautiful. :) And very powerful. A strong reminder of how finite and short life is. I could see my breath and was reminded of how quickly that breath leaves us, life. And how in 100 years they'll be new people probably standing in that very spot, thinking the same sort of thoughts and lighting a candle for the dead, for me maybe."

One final quote from Baha'u'llah:

"...up from Thy prison ascend unto the glorious meads above, and from thy mortal cage, wing thy flight unto the paradise of the placeless."

Rock Suli (pronounced Rock Shoo-lee)

I love the Rock Suli!  But it may be difficult to explain this place; you kinda need to experience it yourself.  It seems to function through a network of alternative, hip volunteers.  A few days after arriving in Debrecen, I was at the American Corner, and was invited to come to a mysterious place for a mysterious reason.  Maybe "ambiguous reason" is more fitting.  In any case, I followed a group of people I just met, past the place I'm staying, and down a dark alley.  Then through a really dark field, and approached an almost entirely invisible warehouse, shrouded in the black of a new moon evening.  I joked about how they brought me there to rob me.  One of them was Tomas, a last-year med student, who said: "based on your age and appearance, you have good genes, so we brought you here to harvest your organs.  Hahaha."

We entered a warehouse obviously decorated through years of youthful artistic expression, in layers, by the hip alternative crowd who hangs out there. The walls were strewn with posters of past events (see above, and below) and new events at the Rock Suli and around town.  Overlapping drum kit rhythms reverberated through the walls as aspiring rock star drummers practiced under expert instruction. I found a small turkish darabuka and played a little, subconsciously probably trying to demonstrate my worthiness to be in such a cool place.  No one seemed very impressed; I am a bit out of practice!  I'm hoping to find a drum in Budapest but I don't live in detached quarters anymore so my neighbours may not approve.  Maybe I can play at the Rock Suli!

A witty lad there named Gergely gave a tour of the place in fluent English.  I quickly learned that this cultural house did much more than rock education and concerts.  They have a wool work room where they create felt!  They model the old Hungarian traditional art.

A beautiful solid felt ball!

Cozy hand made wool hats; not woven, but worked, um, whatever they do to make felt...

Ancient Hungarian pottery work, perhaps?  A kiln in the back. And, haha, speaker boxes for the table!

a collapsible yurt frame, demonstrated by Gergely

The yurt work was the most impressive.  Using the tools the ancient Hungarians would have had, they cut these trees, steamed and bent them, attached them somehow with pig leather, and it expands and collapses, accordion style!  So this was the perfect accommodation frame for the nomadic Hungarian tribes.  If I recall correctly, they then stretch a felt cover over the frame.  Awesome!

Attila, Tomas, me, Dori, and Kent on the Rock Suli tour

Rock Suli: Rock, school, and a whole lot more!