People are setting up for a Romanian jazz performance, but we don't have time to stay.
We walk to the Palace of the Republic, which she tells us is known as the 'House of Lamps' because there are so many lighting fixtures. I'd been in this building before, which, among other things, contains the Parliament hall, several restaurants and auditoriums and a bowling alley, the last time I was in Berlin, and I was impressed that it was so accessible to the people, but the atmosphere and decor reminded me a bit of a Long Island catering hall. There is a concert tonight, and many people, both ordinarily and fashionably dressed, are arriving. People look very happy. We look in for a short time, then walk to a nearby restored quarter with many fashionable shops - much nicer than anything in Leipzig. I'm surprised; I had no idea that this area was here the last time I was here, and it's right off the Alexanderplatz. It's very peaceful and looks like a nice place to live. It would probably be great with snow on the ground (although I won't see any of that until the very last day of the trip). We walk quickly to the theatre, pick up the tickets (10 M, but maybe discounts). The play was excellently done - in German, but I followed it. The actor who played Henry Higgins was particularly good, and Eliza Doolittle was played with a very thick Berlin accent. We had wine during intermission, saw the rest of the play, and said our farewells. We arranged to meet Monika the following morning in the west.
We walk back, overwhelmed by all the hospitality we've been shown, and by the openness and friendliness of the people. We again feel bad about all the time and money they've spent on us, and hope we can return the favor. I think that, in part, they're trying out some of their new freedoms by hosting some Americans. I think Willibald may be right in that there's a bit of innocence about these people. Monika says that absorbing these freedoms so quickly is a bit overwhelming; it takes some getting used to.
We make a quick detour to see the Brandenburg Gate. The guard at the front of what was once no-man's land says we can actually cross through there. We walk around and under the gate, an angle that, until a few days ago, was impossible to see. The pillars of the gate are still scarred by bullet holes, filled in with cement. Already there's some graffiti on the east side of the wall, some of it American. At the crossing itself, the guard says that we can't cross there after all, but have to go back by Checkpoint Charlie. That's ok. We go home.
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January 4, 1990 - Budapest
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Seeing an Iggy and the Stooges album in a Budapest shop window reminded me of something that Joseph the American told me in Prague. He said he had gone to the Press Club in Prague to meet friends, and while he was there, Vaclav Havel showed up doing the same thing. This was a few days before he became president. The talked for about half an hour. It turns out that Havel is a big fan of Iggy Pop. There - that's a piece of news that hasn't been printed in any newspaper.
I decided to take the fifth walk in Andras Torok's 'Budapest: A Critical Guide', one of the best guide-books I've ever found for any city. The walk is advertised as a sampling of shopping and residential areas on the outer edge of the inner city, along the Nagykorut, or Great Ring. Although Torok obviously loves his city, he just as obviously things that there's a lot that could be better, and he says it very candidly. The area I'll be walking through, for example, he says skirts an area where 'a lot of lonely hopeless old people live.'
Before I go, I stop by a bookstore (Hungarian word: konyvesbolt) to find a nice picture book of Prague. I pick one in German with what I consider to be evocative color photographs. Only 250ft (about four dollars). Just for laughs, I also pick up a Hungarian translation of Mark Helprin's 'Winter's Tale'.
There are lots and lots of bookstores in Budapest. Many, if not most of them, belong to the AK chain. They all seem to be well-stocked, although the selection is generally similar. Many of them also sell records. There are also lots of booksellers spreading out their wares on the streetcorners. Both here, and in the stores, there's a fair amount of religious literature.
There are lots of newsstands and newsvendors, and their wares seem to be read avidly.
When I came out of my hotel, I saw a couple of policemen walking around. In Prague I hardly saw a single cop; here they walk beats like New York cops, with pistols and nightsticks. They seem pretty benign. In fact, central Pest (the part of the city on the east bank on the Danube) reminds me of the Lower East Side of New York, with the dirt, the traffic, the crowds, the narrow streets, and the small shops and omnipresent and unpretentious shop signs.
Starting out on the Vaci utca again, I was reminded of the description of a Hungarian that a coworker of mine gave as someone who can get in after you in a revolving door, and get out ahead of you. Although the area I visited didn't seem as prosperous as the Vaci utca, the inhabitants seemed to show the same kind of business drive.
I'm sitting in the bierstuebe of the hotel after dinner and listening to an American party at a neighboring table booth talk about their experiences in Bucharest over New Year's. How they were looked after the ambassador, and how people fired weapons from the entrance of their hotel. The contrast between their demeanor and their adventure is disturbing; these are the kind of middle-aged middle-American tourists you see in Paris speaking English loudly and slowly to uncomprehending waiters. I have no idea what they would be doing in Romania in the best of times, much less in the middle of a revolution.
It's surprising how, when you're in Budapest for a day or so, your perception of expenses changes. I think I'll take it easy tonight and go to the hotel bierstuebe (brasserie, beer restaurant), but then I look at the menu and see main courses for 210-600 ft. Even this is around four to ten dollars, I say, 'Forget it!' I got dinner last night for less than 180 ft, and here the same beer alone costs 120! I go back to last night's restaurant (it was good, and I'm feeling lazy) but the wait is an hour, so I come back to the hotel and order a meal with the appetizing name of 'slaughter-day dish.' It's a plate of sausages, including blood sausage, and it's pretty good. (In addition to trying the local beer when I travel, I always make it a point to try the local cheese and sausages.) This'll come to about 600 ft with the beer, which is an unheard-of price for a Hungarian in Budapest, but it's comfortable, not crowded, and I feel as though I can sit for a while and write in my notebook.
The restaurant, hotel elevator, and lobby have piped-in music. I hear Van Halen, the Stones, and Gerry and the Pacemakers. Gerbeaud's goes more for easy-listening string versions of 'As Tears Go By.'
Other examples of skewed prices in Budapest: 'Daily News/Naechste Nachrichten' (Hungary's English-German newspaper) goes for 14.50 ft. The International Herald Tribune, when you can get it, costs 80 ft. (Incidentally, the subunit of the forint is called the filler (100 filler to the forint). I can't think of a more appropriate name.)
I just heard the canned music in the bierstuebe play the theme from 'Hawaii Five-O'. Time to go.
Enough digressions - to the walk. My main impression is that there are a lot of shops along the Nagykorut, with a great amount of duplication, and that they compete. Torok says that anyone who wants a license to operate such a store can get one - the authorities hope that it will increase the competition and the quality. Prices of things that are imported are high, Hungarian things are low. Grocery stores had some empty shelves, particularly in the refrigerated foods sections. Butcher counters were similarly bare, although real butcher shops seemed to be well-stocked. Market stalls around the Rakoczi ter (according to Torok, the center for streetwalkers in the evening) also seemed to have good produce. There are a couple of cafeterias that seem to serve dirt-cheap food.
When I was here last, 'Rain Man' was the hot film. now it could be 'Dangerous Liasions' or 'Batman'. There's a big Batman cutout on the front of the Corvin department store.
Every bit of space that can be used for commerce seems to be used. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it is pretty impressive. The apartment buildings are built around courtyards. Often there's a sign and showcases (often barred) around the entrance, then the store off the courtyard under a neon sign. I followed Torok's instructions and found the smallest shop in town: a record store in the space the size of a telephone booth. I swear there were four people inside, talking nose-to-nose.
I stuck my nose inside the Liszt Academy of Music and the Museum of Applied Arts. You would have no idea of the grandeur of the interiors if you had stayed outside.
Off to the side of the main drag are side streets paralleling it which have one-story buildings. It almost looks like a provincial town on those streets, if it weren't for the larger apartment blocks around. In fact, it was once a provincial town, but Budapest swallowed it up a long time ago.
The air quality is terrible. When I crossed a street, I though I smelled a lot of people smoking cigarettes, but there was no one: just a lot of car fumes. Water quality isn't too good either. Maybe that's why the espresso at Gerbeaud's tastes a little funny.
It's funny to notice some of the plays being advertised. 'Les Miserables', a female version of 'The Odd Couple', and some others which were obviously American, but whose names I didn't recognize in Hungarian. I vowed to get a Hungarian cast recording of 'Les Mis', and I walked out of the big Hungaroton store with my trophy: a cassette for 145 ft ($2.50).
My feeling is that these outlying areas aren't as prosperous as the Vaci utca district - yet. Give it a chance, though.
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January 5, 1990 - Budapest
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I did a lot of walking today and visited a number of markets. The first was supposedly a cheaper market in a poorer neighborhood, and the second was supposedly in a better-off neighborhood and had a better selection. I really didn't see too much difference between the two, except that the second, which was in a special building, had trucks coming and going, which suggested to me a special abundance you might not expect in the east. The other market was on an open block of land, with stalls and canopies. In both markets you could get vegetables, fruits, meat, beans and nuts, and pickles. The pickles and hot peppers looked great, but they weren't sold in jars, so I had to go back to a supermarket later to buy some. Also looking good were large salamis and Hungarian sauerkraut, which was sold out of large barrels. Not looking so good was the big pile of pig carcasses, although that would probably look good, too, once they were prepared. Fresh food seems to be more abundant, although not necessarily better, at the markets than at the grocery stores, which is probably why so many people shop there.
One thing that impressed me were the old peasant women (at least that's what they look like) who man the tables (not the stalls, where more conventional entrepreneurs and employees work). |
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