Time stood still as still waters run deep.
This is the fourth time I have visited the land of my mothers and fathers birth: 1980; 1998; 2003 and now in December 2010.
My family were greeted with the glow of the late afternoon sunshine, a single rose for each of us (so Hungarian and so thoughtful), a warm 10°C and Pisti, mum’s brother, and his wife Ili, Ersze, one of mum’s sisters, and her son Szabi at Gyor (population of 130,000) railway station in north western Hungary some 120 km from Vienna. Gyor is where Ersze and Szabi and his partner Jannette live while Pisti and Ili live in a beautiful village Raba Szentmihalyi (St Michaels on the Raba River) 25 minutes from Gyor.
We all went back to Ersze’s apartment and enjoyed the first of many Hungarian delicacies and later settled down to a lovely traditional dinner. Jannette, such a delightful person and well loved by the girls, joined us after work and it was a chance for all of us to catch our breath and catch up and enjoy each other’s company especially Szabi’s light hearted banter. Ersze had generously given up her bed and much of her apartment so we could stay the night; it was very much appreciated and we were tired and off to bed around 10.30 p.m.
A late rise and after the first of many filling breakfasts we were joined by Pisti and Ili. The eight of us had a slow walk around the city taking in many of the sights: such as the Christmas markets and a taste of Hungarian forro bor or hot wine; the Town Hall; parts of the Old Town; a five metre in diameter Advent Wreath and the correspondingly large was lit each Sunday of the season; Bethlehem Crib; Cathedral (where Pisti and ili were married 37 years ago); The banks of the Raba and of course the statue of a naked man and his csonak or boat with a somewhat large...oar (It is Ili’s favourite so in her honour I take a photo every time we meet).
Lunch at an etterem or restaurant mid afternoon reaffirmed by memory of Hungarian cuisine: very good quality and lots of it, and I mean lots of it. The girls and I admirably finished the schnitzel that not only covered the plate but also half the table! Eating in Hungary is always a pleasure of the senses.
Under the weight of our lunch we ambled, no crawled back to Ersze’s and then went to Raba Szentmihalyi where we were to stay for the next four days before heading back home via Vienna and Japan. Driving into the 800 year old village, the birth of my mother, and her father and her brothers and sisters filled me with such joy.
Raba Szentmihalyi, on the banks of the Raba River, is a small village of 543 people with a beautiful 300 year old church and is filled with many rich memories from my previous three visits as well as the countless stories that filled my head from my childhood from my mum.
There is such a spirit of hospitality and connectedness here. Deep roots find their expression in the simplicity of the spoken word; a gesture; a homemade meal prepared with love and all home-grown ingredients washed down with convivial conversation and palinka and more palinka and age old piros bor or red wine.
We settled into Pistil’s and Ili’s, reacquainted ourselves with the home and its refurbishments since our last visit and met Rex Baci, their 12 year old lovable dog. A scrumptious dinner followed and the conversation flowed amidst the eleg koszonom or enough thank you and hogy vagy? Or how are you? After the girls and Ili went to bed Pisti and I indulged in a panoramic discussion on Hungary’s past and present such as: The Treaty of Trianon; Soviet occupation; the displaced Magyars in Romania; EU; Dual Citizenship: Viktor Orban and Hungarian politics and 2000 Olympics.
A lazy and restful Christmas Eve morning greeted us with more palinka and reggeli or breakfast with lots of smoked meats, cheeses, fresh bread and cooked eggs. As my waistline expanded so did my appreciation of Pisti and Ili’s hospitality, in particular we were spoilt by Ili’s cooking which was nothing short of superb.
Mid morning through Skype I was able to reconnect with my family. It was the first time in my 50 years that I was not present at our family’s most significant celebration, yet I was home.
In the afternoon my whole family visited the village’s cemetery and paid our respects to past members of mum’s immediate family who had so much shaped her life and Pisti’s. A brief visit to visit Olga neni’s, the widow of my late uncle Karcsi Baci and to Monci neni, Ili’s sprightly 87 year old mum (I can see where Ili gets her dry sense of humour from) and we were off to 7 p.m Christmas Eve Mass.
Hearing the rhythm of the Mass in Hungarian was an unforgettable experience even if it was considerably colder inside the church the outside. Some forro bor and some carols in the villages centre and we were truly immersed in the authentic Hungarian spirit of the festive season.
Prior to Mass, kis Jezus or little Jesus came with presents. It was an enduring theme that emphasised the heart of this area; not once did I hear the word Santa Claus or its equivalent but the Christmas season was draped in a proudly worn faith that permeated one’s consciousness.
Christmas Day was just that: peaceful, quite, relaxed with a little morning snow which did not settle as our thoughts turned to Anne’s family.
In Hungary one’s nevnap or name day is celebrated much more than one’s birthday.
December 26th was Pisti’s name day. My family practised in Hungarian so in the morning they could say; “Yo reggel Pisti. Boldog nevnap kivanuk” Translated, “Good morning Pisti. I wish you a happy name day”. As it turned out Anne beat Ili to this greeting!
Katie and I had a mid morning walk with Pisti around the village in close to -10°C (wind chill). Raba Szentmihalyi is such a pretty village. Each time I am here I feel such a deep sense of peace and I have an unquenching yearning to buy a small home.
Early afternoon and into the evening some of my cousins and their families drove up from Szekesfehervar, (The Kings white castle) 63 km SW of Budapest and the town of my father’s birth. It was such a wonderful afternoon that went too quickly.
In this picture postcard afternoon there was: my cousin Imi, fast talking, friendly and engaging; his wife Erika filled with wisdom and their two beautiful children; Andras who is studying law is an impressive young man- erudite, articulate, fluent in both Hungarian and English and above all humble; Dori, who is delightful, pretty, insightful and just finishing school and is learning to speak to different degrees four languages.
It was so good to see them and my other cousin Ibolya, and her delightful husband Karez, or St Charles as I called him as he knew how to party, and their articulate and confident daughter Sophie. Anne enjoyed chatting with both Sophie and Andras and as the alcohol flowed, and the cacophony of laughter and raucous conversation rose to a crescendo my family reflected on my sense of connectedness which I never had in Australia. I was like a pig in mud.
The following morning the Muskovits’ and Pisti went for a walk around the Raba and parts of the village. As we walked I could see my family with each breath breathe in a little more of my heritage. It was nice to see.
Lunch with family and we were off.
Time marches on.
Still as we said our farewells on the Gyor platform I had sense that I would be back again, perhaps one day in May and hopefully for a lot longer. I am indebted to all who made my families stay so memorable and I look to the day where perhaps I will be able to repay their kindness in Australia.
From the homeland
Until next time
Good tidings and God’s blessings
Janika
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