DSK:

OTP:

I know this is not the ultimate creative coincidence that makes you slap your forehead, but still I found it quite funny.

The funny thing is … cats get to travel for free.

However, one thing really annoyed me recently and I cannot help but share it. We started talking with my officemate Peter about how he is really impressed that most of the upper management in my company in Bulgaria are women. The conversation evolved into the topic of how women are treated in different companies/cultures.

Turns out that in Hungary (as a general rule, with the exception of some truly international companies) there is an intriguing particularity about how people address each other. Hungarian, unlike English has a formal and informal way of addressing people (much like the ти and вие in Bulgarian, the du and Sie in German, the tu and vous in French … you get the drift). The formal one is usually used to address people who are higher in the hierarchy than you, older, people you don’t know or people of a generally higher status than yourself. Bottom line: the formal way of addressing someone invokes respect.

The funny thing here is that men (regardless of their age or position at the company) can address other men (again regardless of position or age) with the informal tu-form. Women can address other women with the same form as well. But get this: women should address men of a higher position with the formal vous-form. Men, of course, can address all women using the informal form.

Later on, I had lunch with another colleague, an elder woman. I still could not believe this, so I asked her if it were true (I though I might have misunderstood). She exclaimed But of course! I pointed out that this sounds quite sexist and she replied it was politeness, not sexism.

Wait a second! So if men address other men in the tu-form, it is not considered impolite, but suddenly it becomes an issue of politeness if women should address men in the same form? I asked. She raised her shoulders and said I guess you simply don’t understand it. It is cultural. It has always been like that.

Aaaaah, my favorite argument: we’ve always done it. Since when did we loose our critical thinking ability? How is it possible to evolve if we do things like they have always been done? And cultural? Really? I’m sorry, No! Culture does not justify sexism.

Since the formal way of addressing someone invokes respect for that person, this habit basically means that women owe more respect to men than men to women. And that, if you ask me, is sexism.

And every day, at precisely 5 PM a small orchestra dressed in red comes out on a balcony and plays 4 or 5 Christmas songs.

That’s definitely the best way to be informed that the working day is over.

There is a wonderful Christmas market right in front of my office building. While shopping for hand-made beauties, you can also grab a quick bite.

Today my colleague Vera, fully aware of my eagerness to try everything that is typically Hungarian, suggested we have our lunch out in the market. She also told me what she had in mind which produced quite a laugh in the hall to the dismay of colleagues who passed by.

So at 12, we went down and here you can appreciate the looks of incredulity on Vika and Masha’s faces while Vera is telling them what we are about to eat.

And this is me. About to try – for the first time in my life – rooster balls in tomato sauce. I kid you not.

Now, frankly, I am having second thoughts about placing this post under the Tasty Treats category. But what the hell.

If you are in the city, I would recommend the Bangkok Thai Etterem which has excellent Pad Thai (do not be tempted by the spring rolls, though).

This weekend we tried another one (unfortunately it has no web site). It is situated right next to the Intercontinental hotel on the bank on the Pest side, with a splendid view of Buda. We were the only ones in the whole restaurant (with the short-lasting exception of an elderly American couple who came in, made a big fuss about there being smoke where you dine, and left – all in all in about a minute and a half).

The food was nothing to rave about (though decent, and with better spring rolls), however the waitress did the cutest thing ever. She was really quick to serve us and take our empty dishes away and one of the times she passed by our table, she casually dropped this note in front of us:

It was so spontaneous and – for lack of a better word – cute – that I saved the note. And every time I look at it, I cannot help smiling.

Just how adorable is this?

It is really funny – there is this lady who works in the store next-door. I am there every day, and every day she insists on speaking to me in Hungarian. Not a hi-thank you-buy conversation, she’s got more to say. And I’m staring at her, thinking Lady, I was here yesterday. And the day before. I didn’t speak Hungarian then, and despite the fact that I might look quite intelligent, I did not learn it overnight. Lovely chatting with you, though.

One of the things that always makes me laugh is when one person is talking to another and the latter does not know the language, the first person always (and I do that, too) starts speaking veeeeery slooooooowly. Yeah, that doesn’t cut it … I cannot wait to start my classes though; perhaps the supermarket lady has got something fascinating to say. Will definitely let you know if that’s the case.

And here it is, your random fact of the day. Bet you didn’t know that in numbers in English the very first time you have the letter “a” is in … one thousand. Funny, huh?

Here are a few first impressions:

An abundance of pretty buildings. More to come

8 meters tall, this is the world’s largest sand clock. It rolls out in one calendar year (and also has adjustments for leap years)

The Budapest Metro Line 1 is considered to be the oldest metro in Europe (For some reason they still don’t count London in Europe, theirs is actually older).  Line 1 was declared a World Heritage Site in 2002. It is – for lack of a better description – very cute. Feels like something out of a Dickens movie.

Last, but not least: Hungarian food is DIVINE.

Stay tuned for more.

Oh, and here’s a tip: if you are in a foreign city on a low budget, one of the best ways to check it out is to ride on a bus. Maria and I used to do it all the time in Paris – and I tried it here already. You just hop on the bus from a familiar place and ride it till the last stop and back. Pretty damn cool.

Szia!

Ah, the joy of living in a language you don’t understand… Hungarians are not famous for their knowledge of foreign languages, and add to that: Hungarian is almost in a group of its own. Bottom line: I understand absolutely nothing. Some times it is annoying (for example in the metro they say something – and you have no idea whether for example your stop is closed for the day…) but most of times some pretty humorous situations arise.

When I got here last Saturday, I had to go to the supermarket (conveniently located next-door) to get some food. One of the things I needed was salt. Now picture this: identical packages containing white powdery stuff: salt, flour, powdered sugar, baking soda, God knows what else. And me sitting in front of the shelf, looking totally helpless. I asked just about everyone I saw, no one spoke English. So I just started laughing out loud, in the middle of the supermarket. Again, not a soul felt sorry for me, but luckily, with supreme powers of deduction I managed to pinpoint the salt.

Oh yeah, I have no idea what Dirty-long is. It is a Google Translate made-up word for something in my bathroom – the website of the place I am staying at did not have an English version at the time, so I had to translate it online