Slo-what-ia?

During the past weekend, I traveled with Chad to Slovenia, the westernmost part of the former Yugoslavia. It's a tiny country, smaller than New Jersey, squeezed between Italy (near Trieste and Venice) and Croatia. It shares a tiny border with Hungary, but the 8-hour train ride from Budapest took us through Croatia's capital of Zagreb, before entering Slovenia.

As we chugged along the bank of the Sava River, east of Slovenia's capital city Ljubljana, farmland quickly turned into densely tree-covered rolling hills and bluffs. Both of us were amazed at the natural beauty of the countryside. Nearly every hill was topped with a steepled church. Nearly all the homes were clean and in good repair (compared to parts of Hungary and Croatia, that's saying something). And behind many of the homes were small family vineyards.

We arrived at Ljubljana Sunday evening around dinner time, went to the TI (tourist information) at the train station and got tips on where to eat and where to hear live music that evening from Alenka, then headed to the hostel Celica to check in. Celica is an old prison that has been converted into a beautiful hostel. Chad and I were on the second floor of cells. Each room is decorated differently. Ours was pretty plain (the way I wanted it...I wanted to feel like I was sleeping in a cell, not an art gallery), others were quite extreme.

After dinner at Fuculus (great brick oven pizza) we strolled to Prešeren Square, named for the country's most famous poet (and writer of the Slovenian national anthem...although at the time he wrote the poem that would become the anthem the country was part of the Habsburg Empire and was some 70 years from independence). Sitting on the square we tipped back a couple Unions (OO-nee-uhns), one of two beers made in Slovenia...and they're quite good (dare I say better than Hungarian beer?)

The next day Chad and I took a walking tour of the city, where we learned that Slovenia was, for years, part of the Roman Empire, then part of the Habsburg Empire, then part of Yugoslavia, before finally becoming its own nation for the first time in history on 26 June 1991.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we wanted to rent a car and head south to Piran, located on theAdriaticc Sea. Unfortunately no rental company had a cheap car for us so we took the bus. I realized that was a better option that renting a car when I started falling asleep.

When I awoke, the bus was just passing over a ridgeline and for the first time in my life I glimpsed the Mediterraneann Sea! Really the Adreatic, it's the water that lies between Italy and the Balkann Peninsula from Greece to Slovenia.
Piran is a tiny (pop. about 2000) seaside village that looks like it hasn't been updated since medievall days. The streets are very narrow, cobblestoned, and wind every which way. Even as I write this I continue to be amazed by the thought of walking home down a narrow cobblestone street, climbing a flight of old, handcut stone steps to a flat in a building that has been sitting on that location for more than 300 years. It's a magical little village and, I imagine, a dream retirement location for many Slovenians.

Looking out across the sea, one can see the Italian city of Trieste, and if the weather is right, Venice. During the time of communism residents of Yugoslavia would travel to Trieste to purchase western goods helping that city become a sort of regional marketplace. But, since Slovenia and others gained independence Trieste has fallen on hard times. Venice, meanwhile, continues to be a tourist Mecca.

That evening we dined at an outdoor cafe overlooking the central square. Chad and I each ordered squid, mine fried, his grilled. Both were wonderful as we exchanged portions. The highlight of the meal was the mixed salad. After 5 weeks in Hungary, I realized I hadn't had a real lettuce salad during that time. Every salad I've had in Hungary has had one piece of lettuce laying on the bottom, with chopped paprikas (peppers) and onions, a few tomatoes, and possibly corn, piled on top.

That evening we stopped into a tiny pub on the tip of the peninsula, ordered a couple Unions, and sat on the patio. There we met Vladimir, a 65 year old half-Slovenian, half-Russian. He had retired a year earlier and purchased a flat in Piran overlooking the sea. If Hollywood made a movie about our trip, Sean Connery would be cast to play Vladimir. He told us all about his family history (his Russian grandfather was an officer in the Russian army before fleeing the country just prior to the October 1917 revolution. While emigrating they reached Istanbul where his grandmother said she disliked boats and headed for the nearest country where the family would be safe. That decision put them in Slovenia).
As if that story wasn't interesting enough, his Slovenia grandfather was Fritz Reiner who conducted the Chicago Symphony Orchestra from 1953-63, and earlier in his career, while teaching at Curtis Institute, found an understudy in Leonard Bernstein.

It rained the entire next day. We spent the morning in Piran sitting at an outdoor cafe sipping cappuccinoo and staring at the sea. That afternoon we headed back to Ljubljana via the Postojna (poh-STOY-nuh) Caves. a 200-km system of underground caverns, and a popular tourist stop.

Back in Ljubljana we returned to the same pizza place as two nights earlier, thensoughtt out a movie theater to catch a film. We found one that was playing Inside Man, in English, with Slovenian subtitles.

At 2:30 AM we boarded the train for Budapest, and eventually arrived back in Szolnok around 1:30 PM that day.

In all, Slovenia is an absolute gem of a country. We didn't have time to visit the Julian Alps and Lake Bled, but that leaves me a good reason to return.

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As for the title of this post, there's a funny, and embarrassing story behind it:
"The only thing I know about Slovakia is what I learned firsthand from your foreign minister, who came to Texas."
- George W. Bush, to a Slovakian journalist
(Bust had actually met with Dr. Janez Drnovshek, then Slovenia's prime minister)

Ljubljana

I've spent the past 24 hours in Slovenia's capital city of Ljubljana (loob-L'YON-uh) and it's been wonderful. The city's population of about 300,000 makes it large enough to offer cosmopolitan style but small enough to maintain a personal image.

In the middle of Ljubljana is a medieval castle, sitting atop a wooded hill, overlooking every corner of the city. The narrow, cobblestone streets immediately surrounding the castle make up the city center, a spiderweb of medieval design with all sorts of charm.

The city seems to have a young spirit built on art, music, history and education. It's a fantastic place to visit and I imagine an even better place to live.

This afternoon we'll rent a car and drive to Piran on the Adriatic coast. Oh, and the weather is beautiful!

Seniors say "goodbye"

Last week was the last in high school for seniors in Hungary. Beginning this week, they are taking their Érettségi Vizsga (AIR-et-sheg-ee VEEJ-guh), or graduation exam.

It was a special week, with the seniors taking part in various traditions, demonstrating their respect for the teachers, loyalty to the school and closeness to each other.

Each day the seniors came to school wearing formal clothes: dressing in colors according to their student groups (A, B, C or D). Throughout the week senior classes assembled outside the staffroom waiting for their teacher to exit. When the teacher came out the class serenaded him or her, and presented the teacher with flowers before escorting him or her to the classroom.

(Chad, another American teacher; and Marianna, the English department chairperson, listen while the seniors serenade from outside the building Thursday evening)


On Thursday evening the seniors and faculty held a farewell party. Each senior group made a presentation that included a “roasting” of their favorite teachers and usually a slideshow of their years at Varga. The teachers also prepared four Hungarian songs to sing to the students (I mostly mumbled and hummed).

(At the mics are, from left, Gergõ and Berci)


Friday was a very special day. All students dressed formally, and each underclass decorated classrooms with flowers and balloons to honor the seniors. (Hungarians go through an amazing number of flowers.) Then, at noon, all classes ended for the day and the seniors gathered by group on the 3rd floor. While holding hands and singing, they slowly snaked their way throughout the entire school, including through the staffroom where the teachers were assembled. The songs were generally reflective, often sad; Some of the students cried as they walked, as did some of the teachers and underclassmen as they watched.
The “parade” ended in the courtyard where the seniors stood by group, and the rest of the school assembled to watch. A student from each group spoke, as did the principal. Then an award was presented to the “teacher of the year” as voted on by the students. When this ended, the school day was over.

Then, Saturday morning the students gathered again in the courtyard, this time with their families, and said a final farewell to the school and faculty. From there they walked down the streets of Szolnok (along with the seniors from the other secondary schools in the city: the cops blocked off the streets) with the faculty walking along the sides, arms locks, essentially creating an alley in which the students walked.

It was a very moving week, and one that I only wish we could duplicate in the States. The students here have so much school and class pride (as opposed to spirit: Here it's much more reverent), a lot of respect for their teachers and a strong interest in maintaining traditions. It was an awesome experience and one I won’t soon forget.

Hungarian Bar Food

While in Eger I had my first taste of one of Hungary's most popular snack foods: Fatty bread.

This is a slice of thick white bread topped with red onions and paprika, then melted pork fat drizzled over the top.






I ate it cold, so the fat was a bit like crisco. Not that appealing, but still tasty...and oh-so-good for the heart, I'm sure.











While visiting the Eger wine caves (and there were about 100 of them in the so called "valley of the beautiful women") we ran into this pair of men. They paid three musicians 10000 ft (about $50) to trail them around the circle while they sang songs...quite a sight!








Chad buying a liter of Egri Bikaver, or Bull's Blood, a Hungarian red wine made by blending multiple grape varieties. Total cost for a liter: 1000 ft, or just under $5.







After we got our wine, we had musical accompaniment as well.

Quick update

I didn't have as much time tonight since returning from Eger to write a detailed post, but I wanted to give you a peek at the great weekend in Hungary's wine country.

First, the terrain is reminiscent of northern California with rolling hills and patchy vegetation. Certainly the climate is different (much colder winters and cooler summers than northern California) but it still works for grape growing).

I hope to provide more details tomorrow, but here are a few shots to hold you over.



Emily, Chad and I pause for a picture. In the background you can see the wall of Eger's Castle. This defensive fortress allowed the Hungarians to withstand Turkish soldiers in the 16th Century.











Oh, look. Here you can see a Hungarian soldier (the man on the left) dealing a blow to a pair of Turkish invaders (I don't know the two women in front, but I waited for what seemed like an age to get a picture with as few as two people in front of the statue...at one point there was a woman actually riding the horse)

The Egerites withstood a Turkish attack for 39 days in 1552, turning away 40,000 Ottoman soldiers with the strength of just 2000 men, women and children holed up in the castle, shooting arrows, throwing rocks and pouring hot out on the Turks. About 40 years later the Turks came back and that time easily defeated the Egerites.


From left, Juli, Chad, Emily and I sample our first Eger wines (Inside, two middle-age Hungarian men had obviously been there a while as evidenced by the volume and quality of the Hungarian songs there were belting out).




By the way, I have moved into a new flat. This one is owned by the school and will cost me near nothing over the next two months. The previous flat, while okay, ended up costing a lot more than first thought. I'll get some pics of this new place posted soon.