Slovenia. For real.

(Due to a series of blogger.com failures, pictures associated with this post can be accessed by following the various links included)

When you travel, travel through the back door. That's the Rick Steves philosophy.

Rick is the author of a series of travel guides, and host of a PBS travel show. During my three months in Eastern Europe, my weekend journeys have depended on the contents of his "Best of Eastern Europe 2005." The fact that it's a year old means the prices have undoubtedly gone up and a couple restaurants have closed their doors, but by and large, the information is spot on. It was good enough, in fact, that I purchased "Best of Eastern Europe 2006" from amazon.com and had it shipped to my dad a few weeks before he flew across the Atlantic to visit.

This post isn't a Rick Steves advertisement, but his philosophy of leaving the beaten travel path enough to experience true local culture is one I have adopted. In fact, as I walked the streets of Prague, Budapest, Vienna, Ljubljana, Piran and Eger, I found myself feeling sad for the throngs of tourists sitting at the overpriced, Westernized, streetside cafes and restaurants along Vaci Utca and similar thoroughfares eating from the "Tourist Menus."

So, it was this philosophy that led Cori, my dad and me to the Deluk home in rural, southern Slovenia.

It was sweltering in Slovenia. The three of us sat down for lunch last Friday in 35 degree heat (that's 95 to you and me). I know it was 35 because Mario told me.

Mario speaks no English, but we communicated using a combination of German, Italian, Slovene, and a heavy dose of body language. We ate in the backyard of Mario Deluk's vineyard, about 10 kilometers from nowhere, which is another 30 minutes from Piran, the now-well known (to this blog's readers) Slovenian Mediterranean coastal village. The only way we discovered Mario's eatery was because the lone English speaker at another winery told us about it. We had stopped at that winery after spotting some inviting road signs. But they were closed, preparing for a large party that evening. So we took the rental and drove 3 or 4 kilometers down the narrow gravel road "to the first house on the right after the asphalt road that goes up the hill. It doesn't look nice, but you'll get a lot of food for almost nothing."

As promised.

When we arrived (And there's absolutely nothing marking this location as a restaurant...not a sign, an awning or a parking lot) two heavy set women were working in a kitchen that would have made satan sweat. After a couple mintes of awkward miscommunication (no one there spoke any English, although German or Italian would have helped) I was able to gesture "eat" and we were told with a smile to sit. No other diners were there, only a little girl in a swimsuit who I presume was a grand daughter. The girl would later get in trouble because the dog she was supposed to be watching climbed onto a table and pulled a large cut of pork from a heaping plate of meat. Thankfully this was her table, not ours; But, we all laughed. That is until "Mama" came out of the house. Mama, we later learned, is Mario's 84 year old mother. When we told the shirtless Mario, "no one takes any 'guff' from Mama," by pounding our fist on the table, he laughed from his belly and poured himself more wine.

Shortly later, my dad turned to us and asked, "how will we tell them what we want to eat?" I told him, "I think we're going to eat whatever they bring out." First we got soup. "Soopa Istria" as Mario called it. This thick, hearty soup included large chunks of Slovenian bacon (that means the rind was too touch to chew through. While tasty, you had to swallow it somewhat whole), and plenty of carrots, beans, garlic and potato.

When we each finished our bowls (Cori even ate everything...except the bacon), we all agreed we were full. But, we couldn't stop the waves of food Marianna (Mario's wife) kept bringing from the kitchen. Next was home made gnocchi with large chunks of beef. The gnocchi was Cori's favorite, and it were great. Later on, we watched as Marianna made more gnocchi in the kitchen for a 60th birthday party that they were hosting that night.

During the meal Mario told us we were 15 meters from Croatia. Pointing to his vinyard he said "Hrvatska," the Croatian word for Croatia. Marianna then made a swimming-like motionand we figured Croatia was on the other side of the small creek running behind the house. My dad jokingly asked if Mario had ever shot at Croatian soldier. I was momentarily uneasy with the comment, but Mario releaved my concerns with a hearty laugh, then added to my releif and made me laugh when he mimiked shooting a machine gun while shouting "Kalashnikov," the inventer of the "AK-47," the famous Russian military rifle. Aah, the fun you can have with heat, wine and the inability to speak a common language.

The next plate was piled on with various grilled meats: cased and uncased sausage, veal, pork and another meat which was good and could have been lamb or mutton but we're never really sure. Mario also gave us salad greens with fresh tomotoes and olive oil.

All the while Mario was pouring us wine. His wine. He makes 4500 liters or red and 12000 liters of white a year. He started by bringing us a platter with three glasses or white and three of red, unsure of which we wanted, and unable to communicate the point. Cori drank the whites, my dad and I had the reds, and within minutes Mario was up from the table and back again carrying a carafe of red and a glass for himself. He joined us at the table and the "conversation" continued.

Later, he took us into his wine cellar and poured us glasses straight from the vats. At this point there was all sorts of laughing, picture taking, hand shaking, hugging and cheek kissing. My dad asked if he could buy a couple bottles, so Mario left before returning with two, one-liter, plastic water bottles, filled 'em up, and screwed on the caps.

Wine tasting Slovenian style.

As we sat in the car looking at the map trying to figure out where we were and how to get back to nowhere so we could eventually return to Piran, Mario appeared with a single, freshly picked daisy for Cori.

The perfect ending.

The whole afternoon (and it was a whole afternoon, about 3 hours), including the two bottles of carryout wine, the 1, 2 or 3 bottles that we must have drank at the vinyard, the soup, the salad, the gnocchi, the piles of meat, the glasses fresh from the vats, the plate of sweets, the once in a lifetime cultural experience, and the fresh daisy cost ... about $50.

Part of me hopes to return one day, but I don't think I will. I don't want to risk losing these perfect memories.

Economic woes

I have many anecdotes that highlight the inherent difficulties (cultural, infrastructure-based, and bureoucratic) Hungary will have to overcome before its economy is able to get onto the right track. Over the coming months I'll share some of them here. Here's a news report that covers
the result of these difficulties as Hungary teeters on the brink of economic meltdown.

It's not a pretty picture.

We're coming to America

10 days of barnstorming around Eastern Europe have come to a close and now we say goodbye to Hungary.

It's 7:06 AM. Cori, my dad and I are in Szolnok, all packed up, waiting for a friend to arrive to take us to the train station. From there we will take a train to Kobanya-Kispest on the edge of Budapest. There we will board a bus for Ferihegy airport where Cori will split from my dad and me. Cori's flights take her through Amsterdam and London to Chicago, while we fly direct to New York before heading to the windy city. Despite this, we depart 5 minutes apart, and arrive within a half hour of each other. Cori and I will take a Greyhound bus to Madison where he parents will pick us up. My dad will spend the night at nat's house before driving home in the morning.

We'll see you soon.

Going back for more

Apparently, this won't be just a 3 month trip.

Cori and I have decided to move to Hungary, Szolnok specifically, and teach next year on a full-time basis. We have to be in Budapest by August 25, and our contracts take us through June 30, 2007. It's far too early to say what will happen at Christmas, but we can say that if anyone is interested in take a trip to Eastern (or Central as the locals call it) Europe in the next year, you have a place to stay, and possible travel partners!

Back in Prague

Less than two weeks after leaving the Czech Republic capital, I have returned. Cori, my dad and I got here late last night (we missed the 10:30 AM train from Budapest, so we took the 2:30, getting us in shortly before 10 PM). After some walking, we arrived at our hotel, showered, and went to bed.

It's morning now. I'm letting Cori and my dad sleep in as they really need the rest. Once they wake up, we'll be off to see Prague Castle, and old town square.

Yippie!

"Better late than never."

Cori was scheduled to arrive in Budapest around 4:15.

I finally saw her at 8:20.

A delayed flight from Chicago to London; two terminal transfers and an endlessly long security line at Heathrow; and a lost bag at Budapest contributed to the delay (Let's all hope that bag gets delived to Szolnok tomorrow as promised).

But, it was simply wonderful to see Cori after 9 long weeks apart, the longest such stretch since we met in 1998 (I have even more respect now for deployed military personnel and their families).

We hopped the bus to the train station, waited there nearly two hours for the next train to Szolnok, and finally arrived at my flat around 12:30 AM.

Time to get some sleep. Cori's excited to see the city and the school tomorrow, and I'm excited to show them to her!

Health officials working overtime

More bad news for the health of Hungary:

Hungarian authorities have informed the European Commission of a confirmed outbreak of avian influenza in a domestic flock of geese in Bács-Kiskun (BAYCH-KEESH-koon), in the south of the country.

All 2,300 geese in the flock were immediately culled upon suspicion of the virus and all poultry, including farmed ducks and geese, in the 1-kilometer radius around the outbreak, are also being culled today. Rigorous control and monitoring of other holdings in the surrounding area are being carried out.

If confirmed as an outbreak of H5N1, this would constitute the fifth outbreak of highly-pathogenic H5N1 avian influenza in domestic poultry in a member state of the European Union (previous outbreaks occurred in domestic poultry in France, Sweden, Germany, and Denmark).

Read the entire article here

Well, that's a little ways from here, about 100 km. But, since I don't raise birds, not to worry.

I'll have my water with gas, but without bacteria please

Discouraging news from northeastern Hungary:

MISKOLC, Hungary -- Some 1,200 people in northeastern Hungary have fallen ill from drinking contaminated water, the director of national epidemic affairs said yesterday.

Flooding caused by heavy spring rainfall contaminated the spring water that flows into the city water system, experts said.

On Thursday, residents of the city of Miskolc (MEESH-kolts) - some 160 km northeast of Budapest - (and some 70 km northeast of Szolnok) began showing first symptoms of bacterial poisoning, falling ill with diarrhea, vomiting and fatigue.

You never want to "fall ill." That sounds especially unpleasant. Thankfully, Szolnok isn't experiencing the flooding that Miskolc is. Our water's tasty.

Hmmmm....

From the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

"Mala was observed being alone with the student at least three times..."

Does anyone else find this statement amusing?

World Cup o' Goulash

Hungary isn't in the World Cup, but that hasn't stopped the locals from getting excited about the games. When it comes to football, Hungarians are just as European as the Germans, French and Italians, only not as talented. Nonetheless, they love to watch the games on TV. So, in downtown Szolnok they have erected a giant tent where fans can buy beer and food and watch all the games on big screen TV's.

Not being a soccer fan back home, I know little about the game, but that gives me a good reason to talk to the nearby Hungarians to ask questions. Once they know I'm American, they come to expect questions about football.

Tonight Chad and I watched USA get routed by the Czechs. I'm glad I wasn't wearing one of those Alan Jacksonesque American flag button downs shirts...it would have been very embarrassing. And the US loss would have also made it difficult.

The Hungarian locals were rooting for Czech Rep and Italy in the games against the US and Ghana respectively. Asking around, however, I think the most popular teams in Hungary (besides the poor Hungarians who haven't been good since 1954 - and I can tell you all about it because all the football fans here talk about it) are Great Britain, Spain, and Brazil. There's nothing like following a winner, huh? I joked with them that they were alienating their neighbors by not supporting Ukraine, Croatia, and Serbia & Montenegro. Heck, I'll root for Mexico.


On a positive note, I did get the chance to meet and chat with Chris, the husband of Zsuzsa, a teacher at Varga. Chris studied German, Economics, Education and Phy Ed, and has picked up just enough English by watching TV and film to speak quite easily with me. He's a very talented guy. We had a nice conversation about sports, both football and NBA basketball.

(From left, Juli, me, Chris, Zsuzsa, Chad)

Many friends have asked me to return to the tent to watch Germany vs. Poland Wednesday night. We'll see if Cori feels up to it.

And that brings me to the best news of all. Cori arrives Tuesday afternoon! I will take a train to a bus to the Budapest airport to meet here. We should be back in Szolnok by 7:30PM local time!

We are both very excited. There are so many places, people and experiences I want her to know.

So that's what you think of the States

Yes, I am still working on a number of posts as promised last week. It seems as though my free time has become limited lately. During my 9 weeks here I have met many people, and am becomming integrated into a social circle. It's a great thing: no more lonely nights sitting in my flat; The opportunity to really find out more about Hungarian culture and world views. But, it also means less time to write and reflect as I'd like.

I'll get to them.

In the meantime, here's something I found quite interesting.

The other day a student stopped by my flat. She was looking for Chad, the other American at Varga, but he wasn't home. So, she knocked on my door and handed me a short essay. She asked me to give it to Chad later.

She left, and I looked at the title, The Differences between the USA and Hungary. My interest was piqued.

Here it is in full, as written by the student (She's in 11th grade)

The Differences between the USA and Hungary

America is a dream for me. This country is the land of the promises, chances and a much better life. In Hungary, you have to be lucky to get in a good university, to get a very good job with a satisfied payment. The lifestyle is also different. In America,
people aren’t as depressed as in my country. They live in another way. For me, as a student the differences for what I’m jealous for are that the school’s life, the system itself and the driving license. At the age of 14, you can get it and it’s easier than in my country. You have to be 17 and it’s harder. There are differences between the traditions e.g. in case of Christmas and Halloween. You can famous and rich easier. I think almost everybody want to go to America to make their life better. It’s the Promises land! I’m really jealous of you, because you’ll leave Hungary and continue your life in the states. I’m planning to continue my studies in the States (as you know) because of the differences between the 2 country.
Finally, I think America is so attractive for everyone who do not live in America. That’s the biggest difference, because Hungary isn’t so attractive.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Cheaters

There was more cheating by the students during my second exam last week. Nothing serious, no cheat sheets or plagerizing, but the student’s eyes were wandering more than an 18-year-old’s during spring break. I circulated around the room, I made eye contact, I tapped on desks and anything else I could think of to let the students know I was watching them.

Afterward, I sat down with Marianna, the chair of the English department and the teacher I feel most comfortable talking to about these things. She said Hungarian law prohibits teachers from downgrading based on behavior, and cheating is considered a behavioral issue! She told me when Hungarian teachers enforce cheating (and they don’t always), they often cross out the portion of the test they believe the student was cheating on and make them rewrite it (remember, most if not all history exams are essay). Or, they might take the test away and have the student retake it either as a written exam or orally. So, there’s no disincentive for the students to cheat. The worst that can happen is they have to redo the test. The best is that they ace it. I suggested perhaps in the future the penalty for cheating should be extra work. Marianna agreed that was a good idea.

I followed up on my talk with Marianna by talking to the students about cheating. I devoted an entire class period to the topic.

I started by listing some of the differences between education in America and Hungary. I told them they seemed to work harder on the whole, that they seem to memorize facts more effectively, and that they are outstanding at mastering theoretical math skills.

Pride beaming in the room.

However, I also say I think their history education lacks in the area of critical thinking exercises.

Some heads nodding affirmatively.

I say I think American math teachers do a better job teaching applied mathematics.

Instant outcries of criticism of the American math teacher in Szolnok.

I also tell them I have seen more cheating in my 2-plus months in Hungary than I did in a lifetime of American schools.

A few chuckles.

I explain that in America, if a student is caught cheating he or she would likely get a zero on the test or assignment, and a second instance of cheating could result in being suspended from school. A third strike and you’re out – expulsion in some cases.

Horrified looks, jaws getting closer to the floor.

I ask them if they think a lot of students cheat in Hungarian schools.

General agreement, yes.

I write “cheat” on the board. I ask what other areas in life do people cheat.

In sports – like they pay off the referee. People pay the police.

“You mean they bribe the police, like when they get pulled over for speeding?”

Yeah.

“How much do you have to pay them to get away?”

Maybe 2500 forint.

“Hmm, I’ll have to remember that.”

Smiles

“Where else do people cheat?”

Silence.

“On their taxes? Do people tell the government about every single forint they earn?”

Laughter – no!

What about cheating on your spouse?

Blank stares.

“Cheating on your husband or wife.”

Oh, yeah, that’s bad!

“What’s another word for cheating? How else can we describe the word?”

A pregnant silence…Not telling the truth? Yeah, dishonesty.

“Can we call that lying?”

Yeah.

“How many of you have lied to a friend?”

Silence

“No one?”

One hand.

“Ok, one person isn’t lying right now.”

Nervous laughter.

“How many of you have had a friend lie to you?”

A roomful of hands. I laugh.

“I guess there must be one or two people going around lying to everyone, huh? Ok, how did it feel to be lied to?”

Bad. I was mad. Sad. Hurt.

“What did you think of your friend afterward?”

I didn’t know if I could trust him anymore.

“And every time someone lies to us, we get a little bit lonelier, because that’s one more person we have to think twice about trusting again. Has anyone been lied to by their parents?”

One hand – the same one who admitted she lied to a friend.

“I’ll bet that really hurt, because we trust our parents more than anyone else.”

A sad look from the girl. Silence elsewhere.

“Who’s cheated in school at some point? I have.”

All the hands slowly go up.

“Why did you do it?”

Because we need to get 5’s to get into a good University. Because we want to get good jobs.

“Uh huh. I understand that. But, when you get that 5 after cheating are you as proud of it as you would be if you didn’t cheat?”

But the Universities don’t care about pride.

“No, it doesn’t seem they do? Do you care about being proud of yourself, of the job you do?”

Well, yeah, but the school only takes people who have 5’s.

“So, you’re willing to give up your personal belief in being proud of your own work to please the University?” I write “individual” on the board and circle it. Then I write “others” on the board and circle it. I draw an arrow from “others” to “individual.”

“Many others put a lot of pressure on us to do things in life, that maybe we wouldn’t do if that pressure wasn’t there. Most of us hope to get into a good university. Then what? You’ll get a good job, make good money, buy nice things, meet someone, fall in love, marry, have children, perhaps travel, learn some skills, take up hobbies, send your kids off to school, retire, relax, go to the nursing home, and die.”

Laughter.

“It’s a good plan. But what’s the one common theme between all those parts of life: university, job, relationship, family, hobbies, retirement, death? Who’s the only person that’s a part of all these “stages of life?”

We are

“Exactly. When you stop and look at all the things you have done, the wealth you have built up, the people you have met, the children you have raised, the places you have gone, what happens if you may have only achieved it because you cheated? Don’t answer it, just think about it.”

“I’m not going to suddenly change your life today, but I want to bring something to your attention. When you cheat, when you lie, you hurt others. They have to think before they can trust you again. You have made them lonelier. But, you have cheated yourself most. Whatever gains you make when you cheat are tainted. You didn’t really earn that “5.” That job really isn’t yours. The things you own were bought with lies.”

“We’ve all cheated in one way or another, and we all will do so again. But, I certainly hope the next time you consider cheating these thoughts will cross your mind, and perhaps, just maybe, you’ll feel a tinge of guilt deep down in your stomach, because you'll know you're not really “earning it.”

Total silence, eyes all fixed on me

“You guys have a great weekend, I’ll see you next Tuesday."

"Only one week left in school!”

Have a nice weekend Mr. Aronow!

Lookie lookee!

A whole new batch of photos from my trip to Prague is now online.

Enjoy!

Posts to come

I planned to write tonight on four different topics, but blogger.com was down. So, with bedtime well past, I only have a few minutes to tell you what keep an eye out for:


"Weekend in Prague" aka "Disney World without the mouse"


"Hairless" aka "I didn't know the first setting on the clippers would be that low"


"Baseball, Hungarian style" aka "Run! But, drop the bat!"


"My new photo plan" aka "Small doors, big ideas. I think I'm going nuts"


Talk to you soon.

Czecking in

Tomorrow morning (Friday) I'll take the train to Prague, Czech Republic for the weekend! Nearly everyone I've spoken to says it's a wonderful city. I know little about it, other than that it's the tourist mecca of Eastern Europe, there are many pick pockets there, and it has a great music scene (including jazz).

My train from Szolnok leaves around 8:30. In Budapest I'll change trains and take an 8 hour ride straight to Prague (or Praha in Czech). Fri-Sun nights I'll sleep in hostels, and Monday night I'll take a night train back to Budapest, arriving around 7, then it's back to Szolnok by 10.

The trip takes me through Slovakia, and near Poland. I considered taking a train Sunday night to Krakow, Poland, which I hear is beautiful. But, I really want to focus in on one place and get to know it a bit. There will be other opportunities to get to Krakow I hope.

Finally, after this trip I will have been in 4 of the 7 countries that border Hungary. Still to go: Ukraine, Romania and Serbia (no longer Serbia and Montenegro). Romania is an easy one; Nearly a third of the people there are Hungarian. Ukraine is far and poor, but my grandfather was born there so I want to visit. Someday I will, but not in the next month. Serbia night be tough. It's not the most friendly place in the world. Maybe a can steal a visit on a day trip.

I'm sure I'll have a lot of pictures to share when I return on Tuesday. I'll try to write a few words from the hostels on the road.

Sziastok (plural form of "bye"...akin to "bye y'all")