Budapesht & Wien

Does anyone else find it extremely odd that we don't pronounce all countries' names the way that they are spelled in the native tongue? All I'm saying is it took me an extra ten minutes to buy a train ticket to Vienna because Wien was too reminiscent of weekend for my taste.

Anywho, me and two friends traveled to Budapest this weekend and were not disappointed. Well, let me rephrase that. It started off with disappointment, fear, and slowly melded into relief, stress, and relaxation. First things first- we needed to take the train to the airport straight after class to make it to the airport on time. We were cutting it so close that we decided to forego buying tickets and just sneak on the train. Well, what do you know- the one time out of the past three months that I have utilized the public transportation at least 4 times per day happens to be the one that I don't have a ticket for. About halfway through the trip, the ticket man was nice enough to let us off in the middle of nowhere instead of charging us the 50 Euro fine. We tried calling a taxi, which apparently did come to pick us up, but couldn't find us and hung up when we tried to explain that we were near the tracks. My roommate Claire threw back her head and howled at how fucked we were, which grabbed the attention of a nice old lady waddling to her car nearby. She came over to us and asked if we needed help. We said "Noi abbiamo andare al Fiumicino" (We need to go to Fiumicino airport), and she said "My son. My son pilot. I drive you." After a few sideways glances, we shrugged and accepted the ride. No one wearing pantyhose and orthopedic shoes has been arrested for murder as far as I am concerned, and look, we got a free ride to the airport- right on time. Must remember to pay it forward sometime in the near future- but preferably not in the hitchhiking vein.

So blah, blah, blah, we get there in one piece, have a nice dinner (beef stew) and wake up in the morning for the obligatory free walking tour. Saw the quintessential sights- Parliament, Palace, various monuments and viewing points, and then made our way back to the hostel to prepare for one of my favorite moments of my time in Europe. We went spelunking in 200 million+ year old caves in northern Buda. We're talking rented suits with lighted helmets, safety words and army crawls. It was incredible. I saw shell fossils, I pulled myself up from slippery clay slants and at one point, we were in "the ballroom" a giant area with what appeared to be a rock "stage" with "bleachers", we all turned our helmet lights off and were silent for 15 seconds. There is no such thing as silence in your life until you are 250 m underground, your hands keeping you balanced on smoothed rock, knowing that people are with you but not sensing it because their breath mingles with the dusty air. I loved every minute of it, happily scrambling up the ladder that I had shakily descended three hours before. I really hope there are opportunities to do things like that in America, and if so, that they are reachable for weekend trips from Champaign.

The next day, we went onto the next incredible activity. We hit up the Turkish baths, which are pumped with water from nearby thermal springs. They were like huge outdoor jacuzzis, with one filled with cold water, one with temperate water, and one with hot water. That's the one we favored, and where I kept eyeing 8 old men leaning over a concrete table thingy that held their 3 hour chess game. What a life- soaking in natural mineral water and keeping their minds intact. Can't wait to be a senior citizen. Anywho, we dabbled in the saunas and steam rooms inside, only to build up to our- get this- $15 dollar massage. Although my Hungarian masseuse was a bit rough with the whole sideways hand chopping motion, it felt great on my sore sore muscles from spelunking. Little off-putting though- she rolled down my bikini bottoms a little bit so she could get lotion onto the top of my buttcheeks. What do I know about massages, though? I wasn't about to pull them up and get in an awkward tussle situated over my backside, so I just went with it and hustled out of the room, red-faced, once it was over. Besides, the sounds of her hands slapping my less chiseled places had been reverberating over the unfinished massage cubicles in what turned out to be a very acoustic hallway, so I was not about to find myself running into any Budapester pool boys after that.

The next weird situation occurred at the club we went to that night. I was at the bar, being very innocent and typical, trying to buy a drink, when a woman stops talking to the man next to her to start asking me questions. "Where are you from?" "Uh, me? Uh, Chicago." "Oh, that is so far away, what are you doing HERE?!?" this went on for a while, until she asked me how I liked the night life here and if I, too, thought the boys were, "Ooh, how you say...easy? They are sooo too easy, no?" I shrugged and politely turned back to my friends and my mango rum drink. A minute or two later though, I felt some arms draped around me and the word "horny" being whispered into my ear. I looked at the woman in alarm, who said, "Horny was the word I wanted. Don't you think the men here are just too horny?" she said with a smile, backing up into the man next to her. At this point, it dawned on me that I might in fact be being approached for a threesome. The man moved his hand over hers, and I grabbed my friends' to get closer to the stage where some Killers sound-alike band was jamming away. We left soon after, with no other run-ins to speak of. Still though, I am not sure if I should be flattered or offended that I give off whatever vibe it is that seems to scream, "I would like to participate in group sex with you."

The next day, we hopped on a 3 hour train ride to Vienna for the day, where we enjoyed beautiful architecture, Klimt's eclectic painting style, and the best Weinerschnitzel in Austria, which can be found at Figlmuller. Other than that, though, we have started to become a little bored with churches and museums and decided to head back to Budapest to catch some much needed Z's before our flight home. I must sound like a brat complaining about the opportunities to see all of these ancient relics, but after living in Rome for three months, sometimes a church is a church is a church is a church.

Before signing off, I just wanted to include a paragraph about an incredible night I had here in Rome. Some of the friends we have made here (yes, they are all male) invited us to go to their villa by the beach one night. Of course we jumped at the chance. It was an amazing night- we sat around playing cards and drinking wine, sharing stories and learning about each other's young adult ways of life. We wrapped ourselves in flannel blankets (the smell of the beach caught in the fabric is surprisingly similar to that of the Indiana dunes) and walked to the beach where me and my American friends could see, for once, what seemed like all of the stars in the night sky. That's one of the things I remember from travelling to Italy in middle school- I was so shocked to see that the constellations over my head in Illinois were still right smack over my head in Italy. It helped me get a tiiiiny but of a better perception of how vast our universe is. Anyway, after we had all had our fill, we slept wherever we could make a bed and begrudgingly went back to class the next day.

To me and my friends' surprise, we found that other people in our program were considerably shocked to find that we would do such a thing. To many of them, Italian boys should be immediately written off as perverted rapists, and we are naive skanks for getting so close to them. If I have learned anything during this trip, it is that Europeans are there as a foil for us, to learn from and to reach a level of intimacy that can only be found between two people that come from different cultures altogether. I have had the best and most educational nights when I hang out with my Italian friends. And, as petty as it sounds, I am fairly certain that people in my group are jealous that we have reached out and made a connection to someone outside of our typical social realms. Whereas they seem to have transported their Champaign lifestyles to Rome, we have adapted ours to the hilly, poetic landscape. Our footprints are in sand on a beach they will never see, our lips have kissed the cheeks with more "nice to meet you's" than they will ever utter, and our ears are filled with music playing from car speakers that they will never hear.

That is all I need to know that this trip has been worth it.

-Sarah