Bulgaria

From my $30 two bedroom flat with a kitchen in Bucharest, I caught a bus to the train station, and arrived almost an hour early, just in case, since it was Christmas day. I prided myself in avoiding taxis for nearly four months now, always walking or taking public transit, except for two times with my hosts from Cluj when it turned out cheaper than the tram anyway.

 The stray dog problem is so out of control here. I heard there were some in Hungary but I don't remember seeing any. In Romania I began to see plenty. And in Bucharest, so many, wandering through traffic, curled up sleeping beside pillars of majestic buildings. I saw several plastic containers around the city, filled with disgusting food scraps, left by residents for random stray dogs. And now, dogs lay sleeping all around the train tracks; a woman throwing scraps to half a dozen mutts at the next station; and three dogs fighting at the next.

My train was nearly empty. When I heaved my monster luggage up onto the rack, I noticed that both wheels were worn down and split, but apparently still functional. This weakened my taxi avoidance pride a bit.

We crossed the Danube River which marks the border between Romania and Bulgaria. Heavy industry crowded the banks on the Bulgarian side. It looked as ugly and frightening as Burlington Bay by the skyway in Ontario. Also, short cooling towers populated the countryside for a couple kms.

I didn't bring much for snacks and boarded the train a couple hours ago without lunch. It was very wishful thinking on my part that there might be a dining car or a food service of any kind on this 9 hour ride. My bad luck always seems to turn into very good luck: there were only four of us in this car of 32 seats. Me, an American guy, a South Korean girl, and a Finnish girl with a lot of food which she insisted was only going to be thrown away! The Ami and I shamelessly dug in, and although it was mostly stale bread and cheese, it hit the spot and I was thankful.

After chatting with them a bit, I quickly realized that compared to this group I'm no world traveler, that's for sure! Between the three of them, hardly a country in the whole world was left unexplored!

The Bulgarian country began to prove itself very picturesque, with green rolling fields for very long stretches and no houses, livestock, or people to be seen. I struggled and finally got two windows open and we spent most of the daylight ride standing in the windows, enjoying the view and the unseasonably spring-like weather of around 14 C, and chatting. Nami, the Korean woman, had already traveled several hours from Budapest on the same train, and the total duration of her train ride to Greece was going to take over 30 hours!

Around 10 pm, Marjo from Finland and I departed the train in Sofia and shared a cab, since my hotel was just before her hostel. I was quite anxious about what must have been an error at booking.com, since I got a deluxe double suite at what seemed to be a nice hotel, for $7, with breakfast included. Marjo's hostel was much more, without breakfast. But I got a confirmation from the hotel so they had so far missed the glitch. I imagined that it was a Christmas special, but I noticed that the same room online was over $100 the day before or after. Two bad, 'cause I would have tried to stay for two days otherwise for sure!

My worries increased when the taxi driver couldn't believe me. And I almost fell over when I saw the place. Marjo said bye and told me the location of her hostel, just in case. At check in, the young receptionist began to blush and said, it's a mistake, a big mistake. But it must be honored. I was torn between running circles around the lobby with my arms straight up, and crawling under a rock. But I just blushed too and said Merry Christmas, handing her 5 euros. Then we started to laugh as she began to list all the amenities and services: "included in the cost of this five star hotel (pause and subtle sigh) is free wifi, satellite tv, award winning buffet breakfast, a pool, spa, jacuzzi, sauna," etc. (at this point I had little stars in my eyes and started to space out...)

Unfortunately it was now approaching 11 pm and checkout was in about 12 hours. So I scrambled off to my room, still disbelieving, and began to do my best to take advantage of all the amenities, starting with using my iPod to brag about my luck on facebook!

Sinaia, Romania

Experiences pour in so rapidly, and the world whizzes by so quickly when you cross almost half a country every day! Christmas eve was a particularly busy day, starting the day in the dark, catching a very full bus from stunning Sibiu at 6:30 am to arrive in Sinaia about 3 hours later. Sinaia is a very small town in the middle of a pass through the Carpathian mountains. It was a difficult stop to fit into my plans, even though it's roughly on the way toward Istanbul. I only found three couch surfers there, of whom two declined and one must be traveling. Although hotels exist, I couldn't find anything reasonable online.

So why bother with this little town? I wanted to find the Peles Castle - where the king and queen of Romania used to reside - for two reasons: one, it's apparently the most beautiful castle in Romania (and one of the nicest is Europe), and two, queen Marie was a member of the Baha'i Faith!

Because I was now lugging around my huge luggage, and since I had no directions to the castle, I considered taking a taxi, but this thought didn't last. I went into a car parts store and asked if they knew how I could get a bus ticket out, to Bucharest, since the last one I took was over filled and I didn't want to get stranded. None of three young guys working there spoke English, but they called to a lady in the back who could. She told me to find the bus ticket guy who wanders around the street outside. Weird. Then I asked about the castle. Take a taxi she said, since it's an hour walk up, up, up. One of the boys said 30 min. and explained, through her translation, the route. Outside, unbelievably, I found the wandering bus ticket guy who told me to be back to that spot on the road in about 5 hours. Perfect. But my heavy luggage... I got a brainwave and went back into the auto parts store and asked the lady if I could store my huge bag there, for a fair price. She said yes and refused payment. Bring me some chocolate, if you like, she said. Score. What a heavy burden lifted, literally.

It was a beautiful trek up the mountain to the castle, on stairs and then an ancient cobblestone path winding through dense forest, with a thick carpet of snow. It was an unseasonal 6C. Signs posted warnings of bears in the area! Tiny songbirds sang for me as I climbed.

The castle and surroundings were pretty impressive. The detail and ornamentation inside was unbelievable. Room after room, decked out so lavishly. And I only paid to see the first floor! One of the rooms was the armory, which I estimate had about 700-800 weapons mounted on the walls: swords, spears, rifles, etc. In a glass case on the mantle was a 6th century executioners sword, and I couldn't help but shudder to think that it looked well used.

Next to this castle was a smaller one, where princess Marie and prince Ferdinand lived until they inherited the throne. I kept imagining what it must have been like living here. It seemed so hard to get to and remote for me; what must it have been like in 1900? The forest surroundings and snow tipped mountains were very charming, but it must have felt so isolated. A mural on one wall at the main castle showed an epic battle between two soldiers, several dogs, and two bears. I think the bears were winning.

Queen Marie, who embraced the Baha'i Faith, passed away in 1938. I scanned the library room for Baha'i books but didn't find any quickly, and didn't want to spend all day in that one room. She was apparently well read in many languages, and quite an artist. A giant book of her poetry, written in semi-calligraphy over her own paintings was on display. One phrase really stuck with me as I began to wonder if her life here was very challenging: "If 'tis madness to remember, 'tis drearier far to forget."

On my way back down to the main road I bought a few Snickers chocolate bars. I found my luggage intact, kept one bar for myself, and waited by the road for the bus. The ticket guy appeared out of nowhere and assured me of a seat. I stood with a hitch-hiker who agree to ask any stopping autos if there's room for me too. Eventually the late bus arrived, the hitcher gave up and we all packed into a small mini-bus van. Yes, there was a seat for me, the last one, but not for the sweet old lady who came after me. I guess when you're a nice guy, there are no seat guarantees. But I didn't need to stand for long, as someone got out at the next stop. Bucharest here we come!

train to Romania

My train is crawling through dense forests, branches adorned with fresh fluffy snow. Slightly rolling hills offer a welcome change from the sometimes bleak, great Hungarian plains. I guess I'm in Transylvania, Romania.

Had a scare at the border. A police officer boarded the train, took my passport, said "give me patience" and left. A few minutes later the train crept forward a few inches. I ran up and down the corridors and it seemed abandoned! I whipped open a window, gazed out and saw the guy giving the ok signal to go. Where's my passport?!

It reminded me of crossing the Moroccan border from Spain when a guy started to collect everyone's passports in a big crowd. I saw locals sticking bills in theirs. Before I could determine what to do, he snatched mine and then disappeared for too long into a shabby building without saying anything. I did get it back that time and somehow crossed the border despite interrogations during which I was offered cocaine, accused of selling it, and back and forth like that for a while.

I found the ticket lady who said in Hungarian "relax!" as she rushed off the train. The police eventually returned after I squirmed for a while and said simply "we got you stamp."

Ack! Again! On the other side I guess. This one doesn't speak English OR Hungarian. I feel so helpless now! Great, he too disappeared off the train. Well, the view is bleak hear: just a run-down wooded station with broken windows, concrete steps turning to rubble. It's giving me time to type this all up on my iPod at least. Phew, what a relief; he just returned, winded and smiley, handing me my passport enthusiastically. But the train is still immobile. Welcome to Romania?

Ok, finally started moving, but back the way we came. That's confusing. Switched tracks, I suppose? This train is so creaky and clunky. Just tried two toilets, no water of course. Oops, here's the ticket guy. This used to be Hungarian territory, why doesn't he speak Hungarian? I felt so clever in Hungary, but now I feel dumb, and a little scared. Not knowing the language is disempowering! So I downloaded a "basic Romanian" app; I better start studying right now! La revedere!

A Christmas wonderland

Debrecen by night, in winter, is a wonderful sight to behold.

It's even that much more spectacular now that we have a little snow on the ground!  No photos of that yet though...

But I have to admit that it's cold!  Colder than I expected.  And every time I grab an extra scarf or shudder from the cold, a Hungarian always seems to say "come on!  you're from Canada!"  True, but today it's about 6 degrees colder in Debrecen than in Kitchener!  Ya, -9 C today, and only -3 C in Kitchener.  But that's unusual; I've been watching. Plus it's warming up next week.

And it's a good thing it's warming up.  I'm off on an adventure in a couple days, on Monday, to cross Romania, Bulgaria, and Turkey in 7 days by train with lots of stops.  So I may not have great internet access and I apologize now for infrequent posts; but I'll do my best!  Anyway, I'm determined to catch up a bit more before I leave.

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 II): a Budapest cemetery

Here are a few photographs from a big graveyard in Budapest.  In case you know Budapest at all, this one is near the Keleti train station.

statues on top of the Keleti train station

I was still in a soul-searching mood since the candle-lit eve of day of the dead, the night before, and this is probably reflected in the photographs.  Again I pondered the concept of mourning versus expressing joy that souls have advanced toward their Creator. Many of these grave stones and statues seem to do their best at conveying eternal sadness and mourning.  I'm sure the families are sad about losing contact with those who passed, but a thought crept into my mind that I felt a bit guilty about thinking: whoever chose some of these grave stones and statues had the feeling that this soul was going to a bad place! God forbid that anyone judged their lives and thought we better put up a statue to convey how bitterly depressed we are that this soul is headed for torment!

Some of the statues are gothic and somewhat creepy. They were some of my favourites:

I don't approve of depictions of Christ, but this one drew my attention

what message is this statue trying to convey?

Here are some other statues and grave stones which caught my attention:

she looks upset about the imax cinema in the background!

this is one of my favourites, pensive but hopeful

I like the contemplative mood of this one

rarr

translation: our dear Susan, 16 years old

an architect

Here are some random scenic views around the cemetery:

I didn't make this; would've looked great at night!

had to try to get myself in there somewhere...

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."

The Wildlife in Debrecen, Hungary

Before you biologists or naturalists get too excited, let me warn you that there isn't really any wildlife here.  Well, that's what it seemed like at first, but I did eventually discover a few mildly interesting critters.  It's weird not seeing squirrels scampering around all over the place, nor their once adventurous furry flattened carcasses littering the roadside.  Not a squirrel in the country, as far as I can tell.

"wildlife", sort of

Of course, there are the typical boring city creatures, such as pigeons galore, sparrows, and mosquitoes.  The mosquitoes are fairly plentiful.  I think I've killed an average of one per day since I arrived in Hungary, but the strange thing is that they don't seem to bite, or perhaps they don't like my foreign blood. On my balcony there is a pigeon nest behind a broom, which seems to be constructed of pigeon poo (the nest I mean, not the broom.)

my balcony with the nest behind the broom

The fledglings are getting brave and wandering around the balcony now.  That explains why you can't see them in the poo nest behind the broom.

a baby pigeon on my balcony

There are lots of crows too.  And half black, half grey ones.  Are they magpies perhaps?  I thought they were black and white, not black and grey.

a magpie?

Other than colouring, and a very wimpy call, they seem exactly like crows.

a chilly, chilling turtle

I saw this turtle come out of the frog pond in the "great forest" to sun himself, but when he felt the eight degree cold and a wind chill, he changed his mind and dove back in before I could snap a photo.  He posed nicely in the floating leaves for me when he resurfaced.

two over-crowded bat houses

I didn't even have my camera, sadly, when I first discovered something strange going on in the tree shown above.  I heard a lot of squeaking on my way by, and it was really bugging me.  I kept circling the area saying "what is that sound?"  I first thought it may be some kind of insect I didn't know about.  Then I just decided to sit under this tree and stare and listen.  Did I see something move in the dark of one of those holes, I asked myself.  Then a bat stuck his head out, then back in.  Suddenly one popped out of the top hole and took flight.  This was at 4 pm on a warm, sunny day.  Then another one popped out.  Were they young bats fledging from the nest perhaps?  They were all pretty big though. All in all I watched over a dozen bats come out of the two holes and fly away, all of them simultaneously shouting, a squeaky symphony.

I didn't see any moles, but evidence of them is obvious everywhere: myriads of molehills.  

mole hills

These bugs were unfamiliar to me.  Not common, but plentiful on this tree!

strange bugs on a tree by my street

And of course, the frog pond has frogs.  I saw some quick ones, but they were too quick for my camera, sorry.  Here is the frog pond below.

frog pond

I had to get some willow tree shots for Dharlene:

me under a willow on the bank of the frog pond

Speaking of trees, they have a lot of oak and maybe beech?  And some kind of maple with giant leaves:

big maple leaf

There are tree-huggers, and then there are hugging trees (you may have seen this guy in one of the Lord of the Rings movies)

the hugging tree

No raccoons, no colourful birds, no possums.  Not sure about wolves or coyotes.  If I get attacked by wolves in the great forest, and survive, I'll definitely blog about it for you...