Things continue to progress here in Central Europe.  Last week, we finished our orientation and I continued to meet new people and learn more about my classes.  Unlike most of my fellow internationals, (yay, I am finally a foreigner!) I will not be slaving through engineering or architecture classes, but taking Hungarian culture classes with a few of my American cohorts.  To my dismay, I am taking five classes; however, being this is my last semester, I really wanted to be lazy and take only four.  I feel good about the classes, though, and I hope they will be fun and interesting!  I am taking the following classes: Introduction to Hungarian Culture, Intensive Hungarian Language, History of Central Europe, Hungarian Folklore and Music, and Modern Hungarian Literature.

The system here in Hungary is quite different.  Today is our first meeting for culture classes and we will then decide on when and where we will meet.  I am not use to having any input on when my classes meet. It is rather bizarre for me.  This system has made it very hard for me to plan, considering I do not even know what days these classes will meet.  I do not particularly enjoy the loose, flexible method used here. As much as I like to believe I am an easy-going, free spirit who is full of spontaneity, at my core I am a schedule and routine loving person.  My biggest hope is that we do not have Friday classes leaving me more options to travel if my little, non-spontaneous heart desires!

Also, last week I got to move into my permanent room.  The Goliát is full of surprises.  I have said to myself many times, “Well, it can’t get much worse,” and yet it does.  In our new room the beds are smaller, the wood floor was replaced by some lumpy-rubber floor, and we now have no fridge.  Despite the downgrade, I like the room more and shockingly the bed is more comfortable even though it is smaller.  Plus, it is great not to be living out of a suitcase.  Last night, the floor was flooded by Hungarian students who were just arriving before school the next day.  It was rowdy, but at least it seemed more like a dorm, and not so much the sketchy hostel it is.

Everyone will be glad to know I conquered the shower curtain conundrum.  After days of searching, I found the aloof Tesco, about which I had heard so many rumors.  There I found my thin, overpriced sheet of plastic to guard our bare naked bodies from fellow bathers. Now, I can take longer, more enjoyable showers, and it is divine.  I believe my roommate has also enjoyed not wearing her swimsuit any longer, .  My hope is that the shower curtain will stay and not magically disappear, or be removed by the lovely maid, who consistently has a cigarette dangling from her lips.

The dorm itself does not bother me as much as it did, and I am growing accustomed to the new style of living.  I can deal with the small quarters and loud residents. However, the location is really something I despise.  Not only are we far from school, but we are far from everything, night-life included.  This has concerned me about going out at night because the trams and metro stop running at 12 a.m. and do not start running again until 4:30 a.m. There are night buses, but I have yet to understand the bus system. When you ask people how they get home after a night out they say the metro.  Then, when you point out that they stop running at midnight and do not start again until nearly 5 a.m., they say with a cheeky smile, “exactly…”  I have never been one to stay out into the wee hours of the morning…

…Until this past Friday night. There was a welcome party held by the Erasmus group at a club called “The Living Room.” The Erasmus group is a student-to-student mentoring organization for international students.  So, international students from all the schools in Budapest were invited.  In true nerd form, we got there at 10:15 p.m. (it started at 10) and were by far the first group of students there.  We did not see anyone else from BME, our university, and we sat around awkwardly, sipping our free drinks, making useless conversation and every so many minutes saying, “Where is everyone?!!?” as if that would help.

Around midnight, familiar faces began rolling in along with masses of other students.  Finally, there were more than six people on the dance floor and the party could commence! The next several hours consisted of non-stop dancing and greeting new people who arrived. With each new person, rounds of “European kisses” were given to their cheeks. I noticed that the men here are much more affectionate with each other in an endearing way, and much more chivalrous to us ladies. It also seems that all of the Europeans are in constant party mode, and live for a good time with a beer in one hand and a dance partner on the other.

As the American pop led me further into the night, I was unaware that it was approaching 4 a.m.  (For those who know me, this is quite unusual considering I normally spent my weekends cooped up in my apartment. I actually felt like a college student for the first time in my career.) At this point, fatigue gave in and I rounded up my fellow Goliát people, and we made the commute back to the hostel.  Although a monumental change of pace for me, I fully enjoyed myself, dancing, and being around so many new friends. It was by far the most exciting and fun night so far!

As some of you might know, yesterday was my 22nd birthday! What a joy to be celebrating it in Budapest, and by celebrating it, I mean going to orientation.  I cannot express how eager I was to start school.  Mainly because I am stoked about meeting new people, and that is precisely what I did.  As it turns out, there are 7 of us Americans here.  We hail from all different parts of our vast nation from North Carolina to Minnesota to Colorado and beyond.  I am focusing particularly hard on not closing myself off from the other international students by only hanging around Americans.  I have met Germans, Croats, Italians, Swedish, Spanish, Greek, French, Dutch, etc. kids, and it is so exciting.  There are students from all over Europe.

After our first day of orientation, we headed back to the hostel to celebrate, and again, by celebrating I mean taking a 3 hour nap. When we woke up from our groggy haze of a nap, we went on a hunt for food.  Surprisingly, it is very hard to find dining after 8 p.m. We had to walk nearly a mile to find some Greek place that was still open. No wonder these people are so thin.  Upon returning home to my favorite hostel, I was greeted with a birthday party, unfortunately, it wasn’t for me though.  To my dismay, (and everyone within 400 yards) someone had rented a conference room at our hostel to have their birthday rave.  I got to celebrate by having the resonating bass vibrate my bed into the wee hours of the night.  This place keeps getting better and better. I really must laugh though.

Today, I got a first glance at my classes…. It is going to be exciting… more to come.

First, I want to say thanks to everyone who is following along with my blog and leaving me messages of encouragement! It really is great knowing people are thinking of me and wishing me the best! Thank you all very much! Love and miss you all!

Now, to answer some of those questions…

Margaret: The glasses have been splendid and are not crooked anymore haha thanks!

Ethan: Well, you must hunt down your own toilet paper, and I was not too picky at that point. I was just glad to find some, but it turned out to be a rather thick ply.  Not sure the exact ply number, but better than U.S. public TP.  In other words, it isn’t bad and it gets the job done…. I can not believe I am talking about this haha.  Also, the shower curtain hunt is on soon, along with finding a comforter and fitted sheet if they exist here.

Megan: We are in the hostel we will be in all semester, but not the same room…. it is hard to explain.

The past few days have not been very exciting, minus the crazy naked lady.  We did make our way to St. Stevens Basilica and Budapest Opera House.  The Romans crowned St. Steven or Szent István the first king of the Magyars (Hungarians) because he was the first to accept Christianity.  His basilica is extraordinary and immensely ornate, as any Neo-Renaissance church would be I assume.  I did not get to stay and absorb all of the luxurious interior as I would have liked because my fellow traveler seems to be a “check-list” traveler as I call them.  As long as they zoom through the site and get a photo in front of it, they are satisfied.  However, I will definitely go back and stay inside the church longer at my own pace.  We only saw the facade of the Opera House, but again, it looked marvelous and beautiful as do most of the buildings here.

Then, last night after a long day of meandering through the streets of Pest, we finally met up with our third roommate Chantal from N.C.  Chantal is half-Hungarian and half-American, and spends the summer here every few years.  It was so refreshing to be around a new person who brought a new energy to the table, and plenty of Hungarian insight!  She seems really terrific with her fun-bubbly personality.  Chantal was absolutely horrified at where we are having to stay, not only for her sake, but mainly ours.  Luckily, her grandparents live in the city, and a majority of the time she will probably end up of living with them, and no one could blame her! All the same, she is a total asset to the group and I am overjoyed to have met her, and soon live with her.

Earlier today, before I made my 30 minute journey to the internet cafe, a fourth roommate arrived.  She is Korean and in all honesty I didn’t get her name down yet, but this is her second semester here in Budapest.  Her English is below par, but I doubt that will cause any big problem.  The hostel people still are “not sure” when we can move into our permanent rooms, and I have discovered that is how Hungarians seem to roll.  They give out as little information as necessary.  Unlike us Americans, who want to know every detail and minimize any confusion or delay… nope not these people.  I think in their mind, they are thinking, “You have a room to stay, so what does it matter when you move to the other room?”  Yet they fail to realize we are living out of our suitcases because we don’t want to unpack just to repack the next day.  I do know I will be in room 602 on the top floor, and it will be the Korean girl, Laura, Chantal and myself.  Also, the receptionist informed me earlier today that “my people” hahaha as in the American boys from Washington state arrived today.  So, I am anxious to go and meet “my people.”

School starts next week, and tomorrow is orientation AND MY 22nd BDAY!!! It is so bizarre to be here on my b-day… what a birthday treat, huh!? Everyone take care and keep the questions rolling if you have any or want me to clarify anything! Much Love! P.S. photos are on their way!

As I said at the end of the last blog, things have only gotten better.  There is still plenty to complain about, but I will try and stay mainly on the positive points.

On the second day, we struck out early to try and find the school.  I won’t bore everyone with all of the wretched details, but let me say, we got on and off so many trams and metros, and turned about it wasn’t even funny.  We found ourselves in locations so far from our goal that is was almost mind-boggling how we did it.  A little over two hours later, we finally found Ms. Eszter Kiss at BME, and I felt very successful.  Granted, the trip was only suppose to take 45 minutes, but the fact was we found it, and that is what mattered to me. We got registered and following that found a market finally.

The market was a unique experience, which I completely adored.  There were countless vendors of fresh fruits and vegetables, then, there were tons of meat vendors, bread, pastries, and of course, alcohol vendors. I could not help but find it amusing to see an older man drinking a dark, thick ale at 11 a.m.  Each vendor, and really most stores in Budapest, seem to specialize in one main thing.  For example, there might be a faucet store, and a few doors down a lighting store, and a few more a furniture one.  They do not seem to double dip in their business endeavors.

Yesterday was more successful yet! We made it from our hostel to campus in exactly 45 minutes without one wrong turn.  Later, we explored the city and crossed the Danube once again to the organic streets of Buda.  We stumbled upon a 4-story, two block mall jammed full of anything you might want.  We strolled down a few winding side-streets and admired the gorgeous architecture.  We had no real agendas and slowly made our way back to Pest where discovered yet another enormous mall closer to our hostel.  It was comforting to know there was bustling life in the “Applesauce District” after all.  For some reason, the only people we seem to encounter near our hostel are geriatrics and toddlers, so I dubbed it the “Applesauce District” because everyone on that side of the city is gumming down their food.

Today, we once again managed ourselves through public transit like pros and even tried new routes.  On the Pest side right above the Danube sits the impressive Parliament Building with gothic spires stabbing toward the sky.  The building is fenced off and there were an exceptional number of policemen.  It looked like hundreds of Hungarian S.W.A.T. members (or the equivalent) were getting out of a bus and surrounding the building.  Outside the gates many people had Hungarian flags in their hands, and on one street corner a brigade of leather-adorned motorcyclist were waiting. I am not sure what exactly was about to happen, but I partly wish I had stayed and found out.

I have started falling in love with the city.  The majority of people I have dealt with have been very nice and helpful to us ignorant Americans.  The architecture and scenery really are breathtaking and cannot be summed up in a photo.  There is something about the city that really suits me, and there are other parts I despise and will never grow to enjoy.

I am referring mainly to the amount of people who smoke.  It is almost unbearable because people are allowed to smoke anywhere and everywhere it seems. Fruit vendors in the market lean on a post and puff away at a cig then exhaling on all their lovely fruit. Cafes, restaurants, the hostel, outside the metros, and many other places that Americans have long since banned. Budapest has been called the Paris of Central Europe and based on the amount of cigarettes and people bringing their dogs in cafes, I would have to agree.

Another annoyance is the fact that NOTHING is free.  I already went over the toilet paper deal, but even local phone calls from the hostel reception desk charge some astronomical fee. The term “complimentary” must not exist in the Hungarian language.  In fact, the a cobblestone goblin raised up out of the road earlier today and insisted on 230 forint for letting us walk on it.  I was not surprised.

I am trying to adjust myself to many more differences between the two cultures.  P.D.A. (that being Public Display of Affection, of course) is in full effect.  Sometimes at the point that I blush at how intense people are kissing or rubbing one another in the most indiscreet locations i.e. right in front of me on the metro.  It is quite awkward. Also, my English is already begun to suffer, so, please excuse some of my mistakes.  I am afraid I am going to come home with broken English and still not know a lick of Hungarian and be a languageless vagabond!

I do miss my family and my BED and all the great sleep it gave me, but I can now say this is going to be an excellent semester!

I’ve decided my hostel is in the ghetto area.  However, as I might have mentioned before it is virtually impossible to tell who is homeless and who is a gainfully employed Hungarian citizen.  By all American standards, more than half of the population I have encountered look like dirt-covered vagabonds. It looks as if the people have smoked a sooty film over themselves, and that you can’t really see anyone clearly.  So, perhaps I live in the swank area without my knowledge, and the dirty look is in over here?

Yesterday, as Laura and I sat on our beds in the hostel doing nothing in particular, the door halfway opens.  I strained my head past the open wardrobe doors to see who it was, and I gave a quick “Hello…” Then, without warning a quite disturbing site came into my line of vision.  A seeming deranged or confused Hungarian woman sans pants, underwear, etc. was standing there in all her naked glory. Then, without saying a word she left as randomly as she entered.  Laura and I looked at each other for a few seconds with utter confusion in our eyes.  We both kind of laughed the “what the…” laugh, and she jumped up to lock the door.  She poked her head out and noticed the older, half nude lady was trying the next door down.  Laura and I continued to just look at each other and giggle and throw our hands in the air.  Unfortunately, naked lady wanted to make sure we saw all her jewels, and a few minutes later the handle was jiggled several times, but her attempts were thwarted.  At this point, we really began to laugh!  I’m still not sure what that was about, especially considering she was much older, and it is not a female only floor. Perhaps I will never know?

Also, one of the first few days after I arrived, I was laying on my bed pleading with my body to sleep when I noticed some strange bumps on my wrist that itched.  Naturally, my first thought was “Bird Flu.”  Then, I thought perhaps that I was being a bit dramatic, but I really was concerned as to what these bumps were from.  I was hoping it wasn’t some rare Hungarian pox.  By the morning, the bumps had shrunk and were reduced to red dots.  So, then I shrugged it off and didn’t think anymore about it.  Until later that night, when I was laying on my bed, and what do you know, but hippy-hop goes a little flea! A FLEA! UGH!  The bumps were flea bites!

I did expect more from the hostel and I really wish we could stay in somewhere a bit nicer and non-flea-ridden. Or a place where every morning when you step out of your door you aren’t greeted with a cloud of smoke. You know what they say though, what doesn’t kill you only makes you itch.

After months of talking about it, I am finally here in Budapest.  Things got off to a very rocky start before I even left.  Monday, the day before my flight, I woke up and felt extremely nauseous.  Unlike some might think, it was not nerves, it had something to do with the ample piece of my going away cake and scoop of ice cream I had the night before.  All morning Monday I wanted to be run over by a train because I felt so awful.  I went to a friend’s house for a brief and final goodbye, and as I left or fled down his sidewalk, I proceeded to vomit over ten times in his yard.  Lovely, I know!

The next day in the early hours of the morning with a weak stomach, my two 45 pound bags, a carryon and backpack, my parents took me to the airport.  As we sat at the airport something tapped me on the shoulder and whispered “You almost forgot me!”  It was Fear, and without warning my mind began to race and I began asking myself what on earth I was about to do.

After a few tears I parted with my parents and Mr. Fear only got louder and louder on the plane.  However, I knew there was no turning back… I was in it for good now.  After three grueling flights where I sat in the “s— seats” no exaggeration because all three of my seats were right beside the bathroom in the very back of the plane, I arrived in Budapest with a girl named Laura Carpenter from LSU.  We met in JFK airport and flew from there to Budapest together.  Everything was going smoothly so far, minus still feeling sick, all the signs were in both Hungarian and English.  We got a mini-bus and headed to our hotel.  I was far from impressed by the scenery we were passing.  It looked like the old, run-down part of my town.

At the hotel, our first problem of many arose.  We were going to have to unexpectedly pay for 5 nights of stay because the school did not cover it until Feb. 6th.  Grudgingly, we paid and made our way to our four bed hotel room we would stay in until the 6th.  All I could think about was sleeping since I hadn’t slept at all on the plane.  However, after speaking with Eszter Kiss, our study abroad lady, she said we should make the 45 minute commute to school and go ahead and register.

This is where our next feat waited for us, PUBLIC TRANSIT.  We were to take tram 14 to metro 3 and get on tram 4 or 6 and then find building Z.  Sound complicated enough? Well, it was.  It took us forever to even find the tram stop, then we got on it going the wrong way for about 30 minutes.  After over an hour of failure, we gave in and went back to the hotel.  I figured we could get nice warm showers, get a bite to eat, and then sleep, and try again the next day.

As I was gathering all of my shower goodies, Laura came back from the bathrooms and said, “You might want to curb your enthusiasm about the showers… there aren’t any shower curtains!”  WHAT!! Being that I am very modest this was a huge blow for me! However, I was determined to take my shower, so with strategic placed beach towels and Laura in her bathing suit, we finally showered.

Another little tidbit is that everything in the bathroom is on an energy-conservation type system.  The lights only stay on for about ten minutes each push and the showers about 20 seconds, so you have to constantly push for more water. There was also no toilet paper provided in the bathrooms, so you have to take your roll down the hall with you after you buy it… which means you have to find a place to buy it. Also, the hotel has no Internet.

At this point, I felt like I was in a Vietnamese prison camp serving some unknown sentence. I was exhausted, hungry but still too sick to eat, 4500 miles from anyone or thing I knew, and all I could do was cry and desperately wish I could go home! I cried for a bit and wanted to teleport like Steve Urkel in that one episode of Family Matters back to Kingsport.  All of expectations had been obliterated along with my optimism….

Stay tuned it DOES get better!!

CROATIA-If someone is looking for a beautiful and affordable place to visit, Croatia is definitely the answer.  With three other friends, Milan from Croatia, Chai from Singapore, André from Germany and myself, we all rented a Volkswagen Golf and drove along the lovely Adriatic sea. We started in the northwest city of Rijeka, where Milan’s family lived. Then, we drove down through Split and by ferry arrived at Croatia’s biggest island, Hvar, where Milan had distant relatives who allowed us to rent rooms for three days.

We spent one day enjoying the sea around the island.  It was my first rocky beach experience, and despite bruises and scratches to my shins, it was really great! The sea was incredibly placid and the only waves were ones created by passing boats.  On another side of the island, the beach consisted of large pebbles rather than giant, sharp boulders, and the hazy mountains in the distance made it seem like a painting. We all sat in silence, enjoying nature and the peaceful Adriatic when we spotted two dolphins swimming and leaping out of the sea.  It was a special moment for me!

From Hvar, we made a day trip to Dubrovnik, which is a beautiful town that at one time was a Roman settlement. We spent the day seeing the ancient Roman fortress and the gorgeous city. This was the most touristic city we came across for certain.  Croatia, Dubrovnik in particular, are gaining popularity and recognition, which of course means more and more tourists. So, Dubrovnik and Split were loaded with all of the high end clothing shops and important brands.  In many ways, I was kind of surprised at how developed the country was. 

After Dubrovnik and Hvar, we traveled north again stopping in Salona to see Roman ruins for a few hours, and then continued our journey northward.  We dropped Milan off in Rijeka, and stayed with his amazingly kind and generous family once again, before completely our week journey in Zagreb.  It was hard for me to say bye to Milan because he was one of the few to suffer with me in Hotel Goliat, and he was practically my roommate. Knowing I was seeing him for most likely the last time was difficult, but I knew it was just the beginning. So, after a few hugs and many thanks, Chai, André, and I returned the Golf in Zagreb, and from there we took a 5-hour train ride back to Budapest.  It was one of my best weeks and definitely my favorite country I visited.

I must say one thing Croatians seem to have grasped is the concept of being friendly and helpful to their tourist.  Even though I loved Budapest, Hungarians are not friendly nor helpful on a whole, but seem to be very guarded people, which as a visitor can make it very difficult to get information.  Nearly every Croatian person we came across was not only friendly and helpful, but spoke some English.  In Budapest, it was a common thing for the locals to pretend to not speak English. 

BARCELONA-  I traveled to Barcelona alone.  I consider this my first big mistake, and I will tell you why.  For nearly 5 months, I had been living in a room with two other girls, and when not in the room I was in class with a bunch of friends, and after class it was typical for me to go bashing around town with them.  At night, I was sure to go out with friends to a pub, go dancing, or a flat party.  I was surrounded 24-hours-a-day with people.  I had forgotten what “alone time” or “personal space” meant, and although I was eager to have some privacy, I knew that it was going to be a bigger adjustment than I realized.  Truly, a part of me knew all along that I was going to be miserable whilst in Barcelona because all of my friends were still in Budapest.  However, the tickets were purchased, and it was a done deal, so I sucked it up and prepared myself for 4 days in Spain, alone.

My final night in Budapest was spent attending my Turkish friends’ flat party (Ekim and Bahar), and around 3:00 A.M. I left the party with Chai and André to collect my luggage and get my taxi to the airport.  After a very tearful goodbye, mainly on the part of Chai, (who, can I just say, has a cry that is hard to distinguish from a laugh, which completely stunted my ability to cry, but ironically made André and I laugh even during this emotional moment) my two 40 kilo bags, and my heavy heart got in the cab, and sped off to the airport.  My grief and heartache were on the surface ready to erupt, but the bloody cab driver decided to make small talk and tell me about his kids. By the time we arrived at the airport, my mind was in travel mode.  After what seemed forever, I got through the INSANE check-in queue, security,  and customs, with just enough time to take a breath and make my 6:00 A.M. flight.  Once on the plane, I made the mistake of looking at photos from the previous night, and finally (without a sobbing Chai to distract me) my own tears began to flow.  Perfect timing… The young, Hungarian couple beside me probably thought I was desperately scared of flying or simply a crazy person. 

I arrived in the Girona airport, and took a 25 minute bus ride into the actual city of Girona. With no help, no clue, and no desire to be there, I drug my two enormous bags through the cobblestone streets nearly a mile, until I found my hostel.  For the two days I stayed in Girona, I did very little but mope, eat, walk, eat, sleep, internet, sleep.  I was completely depressed and had lost my will to explore.  My saving grace was meeting up with a friend of a friend from my home university, Stacy, who had just completed her study abroad through ISEP in Amsterdam.  So, for my remaining two days, I walked around Barcelona with her, and we both anxiously told our stories from our past semester while walking down La Rambla, and it was so comforting to have each other. I saw various sites like Segrada Famillia and the Mediterranean Sea.  Also, I got to see “Camp Nou”, which is the famous Barcelona soccer team’s stadium, and that was awesome!

Overall, I feel I can’t judge or give a proper diagnosis of Spain, Spaniards, and Barcelona because of my emotional state, which consisted of hating everyone and everything that wasn’t Budapest or my friends there.  Had I not met up with Stacy, I would have considered my entire trip to Spain wasted, because for me traveling and seeing sites with no one to share them is really no fun at all.  I am so grateful for Stacy!

 LONDON-  I must say London was much better even though once again I was alone for four days, and this time I wasn’t staying in a hostel. Yet magically, everything went awry from the moment I drug those giant bags back through the streets of Girona, but this time at 3:30 A.M. (not a very smart move, and another reason to not travel alone) and caught the bus at 4:00 A.M. to the airport.  Another long line of passengers awaited me, and after waiting in the line for over an hour, it was discovered that my bags were severely overweight, and to avoid being charged for 8 euros for every kilo I was over, I decided to ditch as much as possible.  Then, I had to get back in line for another 30 minutes, where my bags were still overweight.  I was then directed to another line where I had to pay 160 euros for the overweight charges.  Had I not been so focused on making the flight, I would have just sat down and cried and maybe flailed a bit while screaming.  After waiting to pay, I literally grabbed my boarding pass and ran. Luckily, I made the flight, but I was the very last passenger to board! 

A few hours later, I arrived in Stansted airport.  My sweet and thoughtful mother was so kind to book me a bed and breakfast for my duration in England, feeling that after 5 months of hostels, I could use a private room.  Unfortunately, the B&B was near another airport called Gatwick, and after a 50 dollar!!!! ticket and three hours later (ridiculous), I arrived at Gatwick airport where the B&B owners picked me up.  England’s high price is really a nuisance for student budgets!

The Cumberland Guesthouse was divine; and Carmel and Clive, the owners, were so incredibly helpful and friendly!  The room was clean and cozy, every morning they prepared a full English breakfast, the town of Horley was adorable and quaint, the weather was traditionally British consisting of rain, rain, sun peeking through the clouds, only to be followed by rain. They were so kind to drop me off whenever I wanted at the airport, where you can catch a train straight into London, it only costs 20 dollars (cheap in English standards) and 25 minutes later you find yourself at the Victoria metro station(unless someone commits suicide on the tracks at 10 p.m. one night, then that takes 2 and a half hours to get home. By then you will miss the pickup times that the B&B offers, have to wait in line for 1.5 hours to get a taxi to drive you 6 miles that will cost 20 bucks.. sorry to sound so callous, but I did experience that one evening, and was so insanely frustrating beyond tears!)

My first two days in England were spent at the B&B in Horley, walking to Tesco, stumbling upon a gorgeous 14th Century church, and watching t.v. The third day, I had scheduled a meeting with my Welch friend, Matthew, who I had spent the semester with in Budapest.  Together, my arm in his, we walked around and saw some of the important sites London has to offer, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, The London Eye, Thames River,  Weetherspoon’s pub, the National Museum (the facade), a park where mad squirrels nearly attacked us, and the Waterloo metro station.  It was really brilliant hanging out with Matthew, reminiscing over our semester, and made my London experience ten times better!  The following day, my last, I went back to London to see Buckingham Palace, and rode the tube a bit (Mind the Gap!) and the surrounding area. Even with all of the problems, London is an extremely interesting city packed with an intense amount of cultural experiences.  If you can stand the hordes of people, and have the energy to Mind the Gap, it could be a great time! Away from L0ndon, the smaller cities like Horley, seem to be darling, and somewhere I could really visit again!

Although traveling alone is NOT my preference, I learned that I am capable and independent, it really gave me a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.  To say I spent 8 days alone in Europe traveling is definitely an achievement for me! It’s almost bizarre how easy it is to travel in Europe.  The hardest part about it is working up the courage to actually do it, and then it’s simple, but don’t be surprised at any setbacks or ordeals that come your way, because it is nearly guaranteed with traveling! Just don’t give up, and try to have a good attitude! Take a journal, and enjoy the ride!

Hello all! Sorry, it has been a while. I have been out on the tourist battlefield, just so I could have something interesting for my blog followers to read. It was quite a hefty task, but I was willing to do it for you, my faithful friends! Well, I don’t exactly believe that either, but now, I do have something to say instead of the sometimes tedious and dull events of everyday life.

March 15th, Hungary’s Day of Independence, and my long weekend for travel and adventure! Where to you ask? The land of Pretzeltopia? Wrong, we actually went to Little Mother Prague, the City of a Thousand Spires (as it is nicknamed in guidebooks.) With all of the hoopla, given to Prague from everyone I ever speak with, I was expecting enchanting things, and I found them!

Team Prague consisted of myself, Kristy the Jewel from Wisconsin, Jason the Hilarious from Colorado, and Vasiliki the Great from Greece. Since our team, as I referred to us most of the trip, decided a bit late to go to Prague. We were actually very lucky to score any bus tickets considering everyone from Budapest had the same idea that weekend. Unfortunately, we could not all go at the same time as intended, but we had to split up. Jason and I left on Wednesday morning at 9:15 a.m., and the girls followed on the 4:15 p.m. bus. The bus was surprisingly delightful. Cozy, leather chairs that reclined to perfection (assuming you have a midget behind you that doesn’t mind if you are virtually laying in their lap), a complementary drink, and “in-flight” movies!! Wow. I was impressed. I had my own seat from Budapest until Bratislava, and then I was solo again after Brno. Anyhow, we arrived around 5 p.m., and as if I had the olfactory lobes of a bloodhound, I navigated us to our hostel with ease. (Jason may have helped a bit, too.)

The hostel was much cheerier than the one in Vienna. Not only was the staff friendlier, but the room was painted pale yellow and adorned with stenciled butterflies in blue and orange, and matching orange curtains hide the large windows. There were four single beds and one bunk bed. It had WiFi and free Internet usage in the lobby, and the breakfast that was included was well above a prisoner-of-wars! The location was also very ideal, being on the edge of the New Town, and only a five minute walk from the underground, and one stop away from Muzeum, one of the hottest spots of Prague. Now, to bring this back to a blog and sound less like I am a paid promoter for Hostel Advantage (which I am not, but if they read this blog and feel I have earned some money, I will be more than willing to provide my address), my one complaint, and it’s an important one, was the hot water was nonexistent, and the warm water was as capricious as a 7th grade school girl. However, the ice cold water helped me hit notes, which exceeded my preconceived alto range.

With grumbling bellies, Jason and I scurried to Muzeum on a well-deserved food quest. Being culturally diverse and eager to try the native cuisine, we happily discovered a Mexican restaurant. Yay, Czech-style Mexican, how adventurous of us!!! With smiles on our faces, we devoured our burritos and chimichangas, and then floated on a cloud to a bar down the street where FOOTBALL GAMES were being broadcast. At this bar, Jason, being so culturally diverse and open-minded to new experiences, tried the indigenous Czech beer, and I opted for a cappuccino, regardless, of the bartender’s sneers and jeers at my choice. It would take a lot more than a mere bartender to bring me down from my Mexican food high and football fanatic euphoria.

After two EPL games, we begrudgingly went back into the cold and headed for the bus station to pick up the rest of the team. At this point Jason and I were really tired, and considered leaving a trail of Post-Its guiding the girls to the hostel, convincing ourselves it would be a fun little adventure for them. I imagined them with their overstuffed backpacks, and excitement in their hearts, racing to each new Post-It trying to figure out our riddles, and inevitably ending up in Poland cursing the clever, Czech kid who stole one of the Post-Its. Don’t worry we met them, after all, we have read Hansel and Gretel, too!

The next day with a bright blue sky and golden sun at our backs, we went to the infamous Prague Castle Complex, which is home to St. Vitus Cathedral, a truly, amazing site. Every window is a different, intricate pattern of stained glass, it has high, Gothic ceilings, and flying buttresses spewing off the side, and a 287 step spiraling staircase, which leads to the most fantastic view of the entire city. This cathedral was most likely my favorite site in the city! Then, we moved on to the Palace, and another cathedral, Golden Lane, a picturesque row of buildings, and lastly a the Tower of Daliborka, where medieval torture tools were housed. From the Castle District, we bound down the The Little Quarter to Charles’ Bridge another huge site in Prague. Vendor after vendor of art, jewelry, photography, etc. lined the bridge and walking across it was a bit of a nuissance because the amount of fellow tourists. The bridge was lovely though, hoisting us above the Vltava river, and providing a great central view of the city.

After this full day of touring the sites, we went in search of a cheaper restaurant. We ended up at a Czech restaurant that provided Czech food believe it or not. At each table was a rack where large pretzels hung. (Side note: I believe everyone can attest to the sheer, addictiveness of pretzels. It is one of those foods when someone asks, “Do you want a pretzel?” and you ignorantly say, “Maybe. just. a. few.” >Laughter

In good spirits and quenched apetites, we asked for the bill. Upon receiving the bill we discovered an interesting little tidbit. Not only were we charged for the bread we didn’t actually order, but each, individual pretzel we ate, including the two I hijacked from the neighboring table. Not only were charged, WE WERE CHARGED!! For the 8 pretzels we naively devoured, we had to pay 80 crowns, nearly 4 USD, and 30 for the bread. A little fuel to the fire was that they don’t include the tax on the menu price (illegal) and the waiter took it upon himself to add in his tip. With clinched teeth I paid my part, and wished bad things upon the restaurant, and their slutty pretzels that hang on their racks, smiling just seducing the unknowing customers at 10 crown a piece. Did I mention these were not gold-encrusted pretzels either? Eventually, after saying “Eeeiiighty crrroowwnn? EIGHTY CROWN! ha. Can you beli—-Eighty CCCCCCCCCCRRRROOOOWWWNNN??” around 451 times, I got over it and laughed off the deceitful move, and decided I would report them to travel books and Interpol!!!Therefore, despite sensual glances from pretzels realize the old saying holds true, “Nothing in this world is free.” Then, scoff at the pretzels failed attempts or eat it, but ask first how much the little devils will set you back!!

Prague… to be continued… after class. In the meantime, enjoy some photos:

St. Vitus Cathedral Facade, Prague

St. Vitus Nave

St. Vitus Stained Glass Detail

View from atop St. Vitus over city

Above Vltava River on Charles Bridge, Prague

A dense, gray haze has settled over Budapest for the past week. Yesterday, in the far distance, I noticed the sun fall on a few buildings with its yellow glow, but it was a brief cameo.  This weather obliterates all desire to do anything productive from my being.  However, I have proved to be a staunch opponent for the dreary weather by refusing to give into three hour naps and lounging about the room.

Also, as if to parallel the weather pattern, a dark, disdainful cloud of bitterness has consumed me.  I never would have imagined that I would be hesitant or regretful to share my nationality with someone, but I am.  Perhaps, I was naive to the fact of how other countries view the U.S.  I knew many do not like Americans because of President Bush and the Iraqi War and such, but I was blind-sided by all of the other stereotypes, and furthermore, prejudices toward Americans.  It has been very disheartening, and my resentment is flourishing.

It appears that people believe if you are from the United States, you are automatically, but not limited to the following : a) extremely wealthy b) from California or New York c) a supporter of our President and his political decisions d) stupid and e) wild drinkers.  These stereotypes are irritating, but we all have them about other countries, and I am beginning to understand that fact.  My hope is that by meeting these people I can help break some of the stereotypes, and even forge a new concept of what an American can be.

These stereotypes I expected on some level, but I did not expect such ethnocentric judgment from people.  Being a white, middleclass American girl, I was generally not on the receiving end of prejudice (minus the typical ones about women).  Because I am an American, it seems to be believed that I owe people something.  In particular, some of my vast, delusional fortune, which exists only in the minds of these people.  Even if I was a millionaire, why would that entitle anyone to a share of it?  I guess it is an American mindset, but I feel I do not owe these people a cent even if I am better-off then them.  The gall and audacity they have to ask for it is mind boggling to me.  I enjoy being benevolent to people when I can who need and deserve it, and most of all do, who not expect it as if it is my duty.

Now, in the same breath, I have to say this is not ALL Hungarians or other international people I have met, but enough that is has bothered me.  I wish there was some way I could convey understanding to everyone about the U. S.  We might be the most powerful and wealthiest country in the world, but that does not mean that EVERYONE is.  Compared to other countries, we do have larger salaries, but our cost of living is much higher, and MANY Americans live paycheck-to-paycheck, or worse on credit.   Americans generally do have many material goods and possessions, but I can also guarantee they worked for them, too.  Average Americans do not get to take two hour lunches like most Europeans, nor do we have such short business hours.  I wish people would realize that even though America is great in so many aspects, we also forfeit other luxuries to be able to afford our lifestyles.

I hate the fact that I am judged on my nationality, when I have tried so hard to be open-minded about others.  For example, in a club the other night with my international amigos I met a girl from Romania.  I could barely hear her because it was a club after all, and when she repeated she was from Bucharest, I told her that I had been there with a smile across my face.  Her eyes lit up with that ping of pride and excitement when someone has been to your hometown, and then she asked where I was from.  (What came next, I was ill-prepared for.)  No sooner had “U.S.” tumbled out of my mouth then her expression changed from a large smile to an angry scowl in an instant.  She then turned away and began speaking with someone else.  At that moment, I could not even be angry because I was overcome with complete confusion.  This blatant contempt against America was shocking and a first for me. Even now I am not angry or upset about the extremely rude reaction, but curious as to why.  What did this girl experience about the U.S. that was so awful?

Another instance was yesterday, when some worthless, skanky Hungarian punks got on the metro.  Now, these types of creatures exist globally, I am certain. These are the typical, attention-seeking guys whose mothers did not love them enough or something tragic of this nature.  So, to avenge their miserable lives, they insist on making everyone else in their presence disgusted and miserable too.  We all know the ones, don’t deny it.  These morons just happened to be Hungarian. One sat down and promptly spit on the floor, and his disgusting piercings and worn, tattered clothes reflected a similar quality of his actions.  His mate had a safety pin through his eyebrow and ear among other piercings.   As I was waiting for my stop and speaking with a Portuguese friend, one keep asking me “Duetch? Duetch?” Eventually, I said no and then I was asked if I spoke English.  Being smart with them, I said “nope.”  Then, the most miserable one with his acid-washed jeans asked, “You speak English. Can you give me some money?”  “No.” “Well, then a cigarette?” laughing and looking for affirmation from his buddies. “No.” In my head, I had other things, like sharp objects and falling anvils, that I wanted to give him.

I suppose this is one of the challenges of being a foreigner.  It does not matter where you are from, people will always have preconceived notions about what kind of person you are and what type of lifestyle you have.  I am trying not to dwell on these aspects, but at times it is slapping me in the face. It really has been a shock and nuisance to say the least, but I guess all I can do is try and set a positive example about Americans.  Overall, I must say, I am proud to be an American, land of the shower curtains and queen size beds.

“Wonderful. Budapest is wonderful!”- The Sun Also Rises by Hemmingway

I would like to share my regrets and apologies for not being a better blogger my last few months in Budapest. My scapegoat and pathetic reason for my poor behavior was that I was truly completely absorbed in having the time of my life. This does not justify my poor blogmanship, but it is the truth. I felt a bit guilty and reluctant to blog about my study abroad, when in fact I was doing very little to no “studying.” It seemed like an ill representation of a study abroad because my circumstances are a bit different than most.

As I might have stated earlier, this was my final semester of university. Last fall I completed all of my major classes, and only needed merely seven credits to graduate. Being a photographic student doing my exchange at an engineering and architecture school, my class choices were limited, which I was fully aware before leaving. This semester for me was not about actual academics, but more for a chance to travel and experience something outside of the classroom, and I must say, I did just that! Before I go into all of the things I have taken from this semester, and how much I have grown, I would like to share a little about my last month in Budapest.

The strange thing about the Budapest school system is that classes stop a month before the actual semester ends. Most people take the five weeks or so to prepare for all of their exams and essays. However, when you are an exchange student and are taking classes that are more pleasure than mental labor, you find yourself using the remaining five weeks to focus on only one important exam for the course of FUN!

I took this particular final very seriously. I tried to have fun everywhere I went, whether it was during a BBQ at Margitsziget (a park in Budapest), hanging out with friends in front of the Gellert Hotel (one of the nicest and most famous in BP), sharing a farewell dinner (just one of many) at an Italian pizza place that overlooks the entire city, watching Spanish league football with none other than hot Spanish men, or relaxing with two of the coolest German boys in my dorm room. I scored very high marks in the course of fun, unfortunately, I don’t think those credits transfer to my home university, but that is no problem.

During my weeks of study for the course of fun, I learned many things. I learned that I can not properly say “I” in German despite my greatest attempts, on the other hand, some Germans can not hear the difference in the words “truth” and “truce” and say them the same way. Also, that wine-tasting trips to the small, northeast city of Tokaj in Hungary end in nothing but trouble and embarrassing photos for some, and the nightlife in Krakow, Poland is really something to dance about, particularly with beautiful German and Spanish men. I can’t forget the joy I discovered from watching football with a few thousand people in a park even if AC Milan won and not Liverpool.

The most crucial thing I learned in these weeks and over the semester was that I met and shared some of the greatest, most interesting, and fun experiences with some the greatest, most interesting and fun people, and for this I am truly an insanely, lucky person! I can’t express how glad I am to have had the opportunity and honestly, the courage to do a study abroad. I feel I have gained a maturity and confidence, which is perhaps only noticeable to me, but extremely satisfying! To live in a foreign country, and be immersed with complete strangers and conquer a language and culture barrier, although perhaps intimidating, is the most rewarding experience. This is not to say I don’t have my regrets about my time abroad, which others could learn from, but I never for a second regretted my decision to do the study abroad.

A few “shoulda wouldas” that I have are: I wish I would have traveled a bit more to cities within Hungary, and mainly to Serbia, Bosnia, and Slovenia, and stopped saying “next weekend I’ll travel”. I wish I had not been afraid to express my feelings to some and been the brazen, but honest girl I normally am, and been myself more whether for good or for bad. I desperately wish I had gotten to dance more my last few weeks before I left especially with one person in particular. I wish I had gotten better souvenirs and gifts for friends and family back home, who were my biggest supporters. Lastly, I wish the semester could have lasted three more months, so I could have amended all of those regrets.