The Gogol Utca Stop

Life is more like life in Pest.  In my district there are butchers.  Actual butchers.  Like the kind of butchers there used to be in old Akron who would sell Hungarian sausage at Christmas and Easter.  They have the meats for the day–from boneless skinless chicken breast to cow’s brains, and a very small refrigerated section, mostly with selections of cabbages and pickled cucumbers.  There are countless fruit and vegetable shops, which are about as big as an early 20 hipster’s NYC apartment.  And the Lehel market.  Fruits, meats, farm chicken, fish.  And on the upper level, just about everything you can imagine.  A specialist who can sharpen your knife.  A button guy.  A store devoted entirely for that hard-to-find-shoelace you simply can’t match since losing it in the laundry last month.  It’s just the way things go.

Workers, students, young professionals.  Cafes, antique bookstores, government workers.  People are riding the metro here, getting tickets, buying a new suit.  Someone is buying geraniums.  Life is more like life here.

And because I started five new classes at Nokia this week, and have been under the weather, and have still been moving things in, I haven’t had time for words of any kind, let alone strung together in some little honey-special way.  No poems either.  So instead I’m going to just post some pictures.  Some life is more like life here pictures, so you can see it too.

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