Once again, apparently through sheer luck, James and I have managed to fall spectacularly on our feet in a strange city, at least in terms of where we ended up staying in Budapest. Our apartment, booked online the night before we left Berlin (not a procedure I recommend) is huge, beautiful, and right in the interesting part of town, conveniently next to a little bohemian bar which sells decent red wine for one euro a glass. Sweet.
We are staying on the Pest side of the city, near Andrassy Utca, named after the famous nineteenth century Hungarian statesman who stood up for Hungary against the occupying Austrians (while simultaneously making his money working for the regime - some things never change). My Hungarian history is not the greatest, but I was fascinated (and disturbed) to discover that we are staying near the section of the city that was cordoned off in 1944 and turned into the Budapest ghetto. Many people (myself included) forget that the slaughter of Jews in WWII was perpetrated not only by the Nazis, but also by native fascist organisations such as the Hungarian Arrow Cross who took power, with support from Germany, for a brief time in 1944. A perfect example of such selective remembering is, of course, France and the often willful forgetting of Vichy crimes. Anyway, rant aside, it is very eerie to wander in the shadow of the ghetto, which was basically destroyed when the Soviets took Budapest in 1945, but which is all too easy to imagine in the snow covered, gloomily misty Pest of today. I found an interesting eyewitness account of the ghetto online which I recommend - if you can get past the Zionism which sneaks in in the end...
Memories of the ghetto aside, in contemporary Hungary the longest shadow is cast by the communist past and specifically, 1956, when 20,000 people died in a failed attempt to shake off Russian domination. As we wandered through Parliament square James was able to point out to me the exact spots where protestors hoisted flags or ran at police lines, as pieced together from photos and accounts he had read. Oh, the joys of dating a bigger nerd than myself! Most interesting is the current use of 1956 in Hungarian political memory - as demonstrated by the protests in 2006 on the anniversary of the rebellion against the current government. Scarily, just as in Russia, the Hungarian right-wingers Fidesz who led the 2006 protests seem to be gaining more support each year, though hopefully it will prove to be a short lived popularity. I read a fascinating interview with the Hungarian Secretary of State Gabor Szetey recently, about his recent experience coming out as gay in a very religiously conservative country. Knowing the severely homophobic attitudes of most of my Russian students as well as the violence that has been experienced by gay pride protesters in Poland and Serbia in recent years I was surprised at the seeming tolerance in Hungary this seemed to suggest (sadly I can't imagine this happening in Russia). But then, of course, the current Hungarian government likes to paint itself as just like the rest of Europe, and play down the extremist elements in its political culture. Whether or not the fact that Szetey, a self-styled 'European' politican, is able to come out means that gay Hungarians as a whole experience tolerance is debatable, but I do not by any means pretend to be an expert when it comes to Hunargarian politics. Comparisons between the situation in Hungary and other, non-EU Eastern European countries as regards sexism and homophobia are interesting however, and perhaps something I will look into more and report back on...
On a less serious and more touristy note, we visited the old Castle and Royal Palace precinct this afternoon, the beauty of which was topped off by the dusting of snow that made all the neo-gothic buildings look like something sold in the many confectionary shops dotted around Budapest. Unfortunately, the snow also meant the steps up and down the hilly Old Town were mined with treacherous patches of black ice, so I spent the whole time clutching railings or walking along cobbled streets pressed up against aged walls so I had something to fall back on should I slip. The view from the top was worth it though - the mist rising from the Danube and half obscring the Parliament building gave it all a 1940s Dracula film feeling that will be my most enduring memory of Budapest...
Tomorrow we leave for Belgrade, exciting but scary at the same because it is going to be our new home. Budapest has been beautiful and magical, although I'm disappointed I never made it to a thermal bath (all the more reason to come back,
well, that and the 1 euro wine...)
