During a recent trip to Tesco, I had the overwhelming urge to play Clue. For those of you who didn’t play board games between 1940 and 2011, Clue is a simple little murder-mystery game. I’m not sure if kids are encouraged to play these types of games anymore, lest their sensitive imaginations turn toward the macabre. Though every generation has their dangerous games. My mom and her sister favored mumbly-peg, the cherished, outdoor game where kids threw pocket knives at each other’s bare feet.
When I saw the game at our local Tesco, I had to have it. So last weekend when we had a few friends over, we decided to play Cluedo, as it is called outside of North America. It was actually a lot more fun as an adult, especially when playing with four rather investigatively savvy central-European women. I was clearly out-matched.
The Carpathian mountain range is the second largest mountain range in Europe, and it extends from Poland to Serbia (expanding into Ukraine and Romania’s Transylvania in the East). The mighty Danube separates the range from the Alps and Hungary sits in the basin.
The Carpathian Mountains are ancient mountains, listed in countless national documents and legends. Ptolemy wrote about them in his Geographia. Scandinavian documents recorded the epic battles between the Goths and the Huns. And much of the Dracula legend depicts the southern Carpathians, which legends claim are stalked by vampires and werewolves.
Over the centuries the Carpathians have played a significant role in the lives and economy of many countries in the region, and have become emblematic of the cherished natural world. In Hungary, the Carpathian basin is called Kárpát-medence.
As most of you know, Gyorgyi, my Dad, my Mom and I started a small communications firm with the goal of working in the U.S and Hungary. So when it came time to chose our company name, we thought Karpat Communications felt right.
We will be working with Hungarian companies and helping them expand their brand to English-speaking consumers with translation services, marketing, and new media campaigns. We’ve been building it in the last few months, organizing the website and meeting with new clients, in addition to working non-stop with our fabulous first client, the St. Andrea Winery, whose brand (and wine!) Gyorgyi and I have admired for a very long time now.
I won’t be promoting our company here on my blurblog, but I think it’s important to mention, as it is taking up a big part of my time here in Hungary now.
And Barnabas won’t be disappearing from the web world either, though he has been working so hard lately, it’s been difficult to set up shoots for him. As soon as I drag him out of bed and brush his luscious locks, you’ll start to see much more of him over on his site.
With the move, work and massive Thanksgiving party, I haven’t had time to do anything else, which is why it came as a shock to see that Barnabas has finally decorated the cork board we set up in the office for his personal effects. Sigh. He must be reading my father’s blog.
I never like to post the same pictures here and also on Barnabás’ site, but today, since it was a guest appearance, I decided to do it. Alfi is Györgyi’s Dad’s dog–a faithful yellow lab and permanent resident of the river weekend house. If there was a complete dog opposite of Barnabas, it would be Alfi. He’s silly and carefree and calm, as opposed to Barnabas who is gradually becoming that crotchety camp counselor who roams the grounds at night screaming LIGHTS OUT. The two dogs do have fun together, even though Barnabas steals Alfi’s food, water, attention and territory.
Which is why when Alfi does get an opportunity for a treat, he almost can’t control his blissful excitement:
I absolutely cannot resist how adorable this look of profound anticipation. He is floating on pure joy.
Now that Brian has left, we’re all (well some of us) back to working hard. Or harder than anyone should have to in the summer. There are only nine more weeks until my family comes for a visit and those nine are going to sail. I’ve got about a billion articles to write and another billion documents to edit. Ms. Györgyi Sára is in the middle of an office move. And Barnabás is, well, exhausted by everything. So exhausted, in fact, that he can’t even haul himself into his bean bag bed to sleep during the day.
His photo shoots have been pretty demanding though. Several different counties. New tricks. And on top of everything it’s foxtail season and danger is everywhere.
Since my last attempt at growing herbs failed miserably (well they are growing very very healthy looking non-native weeds), György bought me these little idiot-proof pocket garden packets in Vienna. One cilantro and one pepper. I have really followed the directions to a T on these so I hope they are going to produce lots of salsa-making ingredients.
Despite our disparate schedules, crazy hours, and lack of sleep (well, for most of us), we’re still managing smiles. It is summer in Europe after all.
This time last year I had a terrible case of strep throat. This year, Gyorgyi has graciously given me a spring cold. She picked it up from a few geologists at work, but I’ve come to despise this one week of the year. We’ve both been sick and it’s been cold and rainy and all around miserable. But, in 1.5 weeks my brother is going to be here, along with the summer, and everything should turn around. (along with my very behind blog posting!)
Until then, I will post a few photos I took with my new iPhone and the Color Splash application. I have a new $1,000 camera which I adore. But as it turns out, there are some pretty incredible photo apps for the iphone, which make even cam. phone pics seem professional. With the Color Splash application, you can extract some colors and then put a few back. Pretty cool.
I’ve had a pretty busy week. Organized some submissions, wrote a few letters, revised a paragraph and line here and there, and so on. On Wednesday, Györgyi had to do some work in Szeged so Barnabás and I tagged along. I’m not sure if I ever said this on the site, but we have a second apartment in Szeged, which we lovingly refer to as the pit because when we bought it, the city started doing construction on a new tram line just down the road and there was dirt and huge holes everywhere ( & I also greedily and frequently steal lines/concepts/jokes from the best show on television, Parks and Recreation.)
So back to Szeged.
The weather has been so nice here, and even though it rained a little bit on Wednesday in Budapest, it was sunny in Szeged (the City of Sunshine)! So we went to the park in the late afternoon and let our beast run around. We tried to deter Barnabás from going up to old ladies in the search of food by throwing a Frisbee around, but we ended up playing ourselves. Unfortunately now, at nearly six years old, he is a dog who never really learned how to play at anything, so he just looks at us like we’re total dummies when we try to get him to run and chase something. Györgyi has slowly been able to make him bring a tennis ball back to her when we’re in the apartment, but it only lasts for about 10 throws before he runs and hides with the ball on the deck or under the pillows, growling and barking at it. And that play has taken about a year of repetition. (Which is just a little odd since he learned how to shake in about 15 seconds when he was getting rewarded with food).
All of the trees are in bloom or are blooming this week. And it feels like a whole new world again.
We wanted to have an early dinner outside, to enjoy the nice weather, so we headed to the restaurant we always go to in Szeged, Kiskörössy Halászcsárda. We call it the fish soup restaurant because that’s what they serve.
Since we didn’t have much to eat all day, we ordered a little appetizer of fish “cracklins”, which is not the same thing as southern cracklins. But, almost as good for you! These are little fish pieces, the best bits that no one eats except in the soup, fried. The best parts, in my opinion, are the cheeks and the roe (eggs). And you can see from my picture the big cauldron of soup. Hungarians LOVE cauldrons and cooking savory things inside of them. I wish someone made chocolate mousse in a cauldron that big.
As we finished eating, we watched the Hungarian summer Olympians (kayak and canoe) who were training on the Tisza River. They won many gold medals in Beijing, so I suppose they aren’t wasting any time in training for the London summer games (and also why they weren’t eating fish cracklins). They looked amazing on the water. The fluid drag of the oars was so calming to watch, and how shoulder to arm to water look like one long limb.
They turned around soon after though because a giant storm cloud was approaching. We ended our meal and made it back to the car before any rain fell. These days are one of the reasons why I really adore Szeged. Budapest is an amazing city to live in. You can find almost anything and do almost anything (except get a coffee before 08:00). But once in a while it’s nice to have a quiet day and a dinner outside on the bank of an old river.
And since it’s Friday, I hope that everyone will have a fun and safe holiday weekend. I’m not making ham because I hate it. I find it torturous to eat, to tell you the truth. So I’m pulling out some Passover recipes instead. Györgyi has secured a 3kg brisket (or as she calls it, bricket) from a Buda butcher, and we’re planning on spending some quality family/friend time in Budapest. (And with a little attention, hopefully keep Barnabás bácsi away from the booze.)
Györgyi had her wisdom tooth pulled on Friday afternoon. I say “extracted” but she doesn’t like it. I never had to have my wisdom teeth pulled. But from what I can tell, she handles it really well. So we pretty much had a lazy weekend. I made chicken meatball soup, which turned out to be really yummy. And on Saturday I woke up bright-eyed at 5:30 a.m ready to start the day. Because of the tooth pull, Györgyi couldn’t run, so Barnabás and I went out early. He has become such a spoiled brat recently. The entire last 2 kilometers, I was literally dragging him back by his neck. Honestly I think he didn’t want to be running that early. When we got back to the apartment, he ate his 1/2 milk bone and then went right back to his bed. He was snoring before he even hit the pillow. Tough life.
Györgyi was awake too and we felt like getting out and doing something since the weather was so pretty. Cool air but bright, warm sunshine. We decided to get the car washed, since it looked like it had survived a Bolivian mudslide, and then try to find a coffee. It being Saturday and all, we weren’t going to MAKE our OWN coffee. But, unfortunately, many places in Budapest, just like everywhere in Europe where people don’t wake up until 8 a.m (i.e–midday) on Saturdays, there aren’t a lot of places open that early. In America, coffee houses are like crack dens. Dozens of people piling in and out at a 4, 5 a.m, red eyes pooled with shame, arms twitching. But here, a decent cappuccino is really only accessible at about 8.
So we drove up to Szentendre, a little artsy neighborhood just 20 minutes outside of Budapest. I needed some more pictures of B and the light and people-free streets were perfect that morning.
It’s just about the season for regional tourists to make their way here, as we would go to Prague (like we did this time last year) or other nearby countries/cities to visit. But the early morning, even in the city, is always the best time to take pictures of buildings and cobblestones and rooftops. Not only is it quiet and quaint, it’s closer to that old charm than when it’s clogged with tours.
The only other person on the street was a man walking his Puli. Pulis are loyal, adoring Hungarian herding dogs. But they honestly look like mops walking down the street. This little lady’s name was Coco.
She ate a little trash, smiled at Barnabás, then moved along.
We finally got a coffee and muffin back in the city. By that time is was almost 9 and Barnabás was ready for his 3rd nap of the day. The rest of the weekend was filled with walks, catching up on Seasons 5/6 of Lost, and slowing down a bit. I think in my old age, I’m really starting to appreciate this time of the year, and how nice it is to take the time. (to do anything at all).
You have to believe me when I say it started with this duck costume, which was intended to be for Carnival. Yes a little jokey, perhaps, but no harm in it.
But then our carnival costume shopping ended. And then next aisle over there were sales upon sales upon sales of little clothes. So I rummaged around in my head for an excuse and came up with a good one– I needed Barnabás to model for me as I tested out the aperture and shutter speed settings on my new camera. Barnabás with a little outfit on would be perfect for depth of field experiments, I convinced myself.
But when I saw the pictures uploading of Barnabás in his office-wear, I knew we had taken it too far.
Then I received an email from my mother, and I was sure that when I opened it, she would set me straight about Barnabás’ costumes getting a little out of hand. (After all, I had written to her explaining the challenges of his size– boys’ 24 months, though his hips are skinny and his belly occasionally sags after long weekends.) But instead of a well-deserved critique, she told me that her dog, Coco Elaine Jewell, was probably (she wasn’t sure) a 3T. Toddler that is. 3 years old. She does have a thick neck.
You have to understand that Barnabás really is a care-free soul, as long as he can always hang out with us. Sometimes when he gets up from the couch, he drags the blanket that was covering him around for hours. He’ll lay down with it somewhere else, then move again, taking it with him. And honestly he would carry around a baked potato on his head if I asked him too, and I gave him a little treat. I think he genuinely likes taking pictures now (probably because he knows that all photography sessions end in a salami or bone). And I know I’m not the only one who does these things. Coco Elaine Jewell got a Martha Stewart bed for Christmas. And a pearl necklace.
According to the amazing Horizon documentary I watched a few nights ago– Secret Life of the Dog– since they mapped the dog genome and went through half a century of research into dog’s domestication–we now know that dogs are closer to humans in terms of behavior than even chips. Smart dogs can even perform analytical thinking skills, can retrieve objects after being shown pictures of the objects– understand that one things REPRESENTS another thing. This is something that not even human toddlers can do until 2 or 3 years old. Dogs respond to pointing even though they don’t exhibit this behavior in the wild. And scientists in Hungary found that, like humans, dogs look directly into the left eye of humans to gauge emotion (just like humans do). If you are a dog-lover, you honestly need to find that documentary on Youtube and watch it.
And I’m not saying that Barnabás is some kind of genius for sitting still when he wears a duck costume. Or for falling asleep halfway through our photo shoots.
Not that we wouldn’t go to Margit Island alone in the winter. Cold air is good for the lungs. But there is something about walking around the cool, empty and snowcovered island property with a little cocker spaniel who is so enthralled in his joy of exploration, that just makes every winter morning one I want to spend in that moment there.
A few weeks ago we decided to go to the island. It was early morning–maybe 6 or 6:30 when we finally arrived. The sun hadn’t really tried coming up yet, but even when it did, it didn’t get very far. Just a little fire lit in the distance:
It didn’t even seem like anyone was awake at the usually bustling Saturday morning spa. Covered by the leafless trees, the building looked like a haunted house.
Since there weren’t any people, I turned my camera to the peaking grasses,
frozen limbs,
and unplucked winter berries frozen in time.
As morning approached, the birds left their warm nests for food, passed the water tower still caught in the fog of previous centuries.
It would be nice to write that our little Barnabás goes tumbling after the birds. But he’s nearly blind and can’t see almost anything there, especially in that hazy, low morning winter light.
He runs for the pure joy of running. The smells and texture of the snow. Follows our voices calling to him from the distances when he’s gotten distracted by a trail. O, Mornings of Pure & Innocent Happiness–you’re worth waking up for.
