The Pearl of the Danube

The moniker of "Pearl of the Danube" is actually the nickname of Vienna's sister city, Budapest, where the Danube plays more of a role in the city's feel and look. That is, the Danube actually runs through the city, and there are two banks, unlike in Vienna, which was really only settled on one side of the Danube.

Thus, on my third trip to Budapest, I noticed certain things I hadn't before, and was reminded of other impressions I'd gathered earlier as well.

Because the Danube so beautifully flows through Budapest, walking along the riverside, I was struck by how much Budapest reminds me of Paris. It's interesting that the placement of a river in a city could do so much to change its atmosphere. Budapest is a lot lighter, more open, and some ways, thus, friendlier, than Vienna. Other factors play into the "friendliness" bit too, however.

The Vienna Innere Stadt basically retains its Medieval atmosphere, with crowded cobblestone streets, and juxtaposes them with mammoth 18th century architectural structures designed by Maria Theresia during her rule of Austria-Hungary. Budapest has the same sorts of things, but also - as you will see - monolithic structures built into the stone of the Pest hills, which make it unique and splendid.

Also, whereas everything in Vienna is neatly preserved and beautifully maintained, due to corruption in government and overall lack of money to do anything like maintain UNESCO World Heritage sites, Hungary is in fact the opposite of Austria: a topsy-turvy Oz. Vienna through the Looking Glass. Everything is of the same construction: in that way, they truly are twinned cities architecturally. But since Vienna gets all that income from tourists, she has a reason to look nice. I do feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland nodding and smiling to shopkeepers chatting in Hungarian, or old women walking their Vizslas. Budapest's history with communism has left her bedraggled: still beautiful, but more solemn. And much the worse for wear.

Here are some photos. Unfortunately to me, all of the pictures of monuments end up turning out the same, no matter how you photograph them, or from what angle. You may have a different opinion.

Café Europa: Life after Communism

wrong one, but it'll do

I recently finished a book I bought while visiting a friend in Poland. Café Europa, its contents as well as how it and I found each other, are of equal story-telling merit. Thus, I must begin with our first encounter:

It was a dark and stormy night... No, wait.

Krakow, bleak December. Just a minute.

Imagine you have decided to visit your friend from university who is teaching English in Poland, while you are teaching English in Austria. Imagine that you decided to pick the perfect time to visit, when you had a bit of time off from work because of one of the many, many Catholic holidays Austria celebrates: The Immaculate Conception. Which just happens to be 8 December. Perfect.

You arrive in Krakow early in the morning, having left before dawn on a bus with no heat from the small town where your friend teaches. It is snowing and freezing and it is quite possible you have not felt this kind of cold in several years - if ever - a dry, scratchy cold, sort of what you get in the plains of the American Midwest...for example, North Dakota.

Your friend suggests keeping warm above all else. You agree, your survival instincts kicking in. You dash into the mall next to the bus terminal, and suddenly everything becomes familiar...civilized...except that all of the shop signs are written in Polish. Aside from that, this could be any mall in any city in the world. It is very warm, and you think about buying a cup of coffee, but your friend scoffs.

"Don't you want to see the real Krakow?" she asks.

"Of course," you acquiesce.

You trot along the main square, survival mode breaking out again and quashing your enjoyment of, admittedly, a very beautiful city. The facades of the buildings seem to belong to the middle ages. The locals are dressed in fur and waterproof boots. Smart of them. You are in your normal black boots (decidedly not waterproof after going through snow drifts) and parka and woolen hat with a Green Bay Packers logo. Your friend suggests going to an English language book store, one of her favorites, she professes. Now you are only thinking about warmth. But, certainly, book stores are always nice, too.

Slavenka Drakulić

And here is where you find: Café Europa. The front cover looks interesting, but the back cover hooks you. Café Europa happens to be a collection of essays about life in post-Communist eastern Europe. Score! you think. This is just your ticket. For some reason, you have had a mild obsession with former Soviet bloc countries for the past two or so years. And the author, Slavenka Draculić, is not only a prominent Croatian writer and journalist, she hails from the former Yugoslavia (having spent most of her life in Croatia while it was still part of Yugoslavia). Living in Vienna when she wrote most of the essays (between 1992-1996), you think, again, this is perfect, since you, too are living in Austria. And you are not disappointed.

Draculić's prose is simple, yet poignant, informed to a high degree without being pedantic, and hilariously funny. Think the Croatian, female David Sedaris, but replace "being gay" with "living under Communism" and throw in feminist themes for good measure. Definitely the most satisfying 49 złoty ever spent.

*For those interested (and planning on visiting Krakow) here is the book store's website.