Ripping Off the Band-Aid...

So it's my last day officially, and it's almost over.  It's weird, when I first arrived in Pecs everyday went by so slowly, I thought I would be here forever... and now?  Well after the first week someone hit the fast forward button on my life and here we are, the last full day.  I didn't think I'd be this emotional.  Usually I pride myself with my inability to produce tears when the moment calls for it.  But tonight? My last night in Pecs... I think all bets are off. So if you happen to find yourself in a bar in Pecs tonight, I'll be the blubbering mess in the corner.  

But how do you say goodbye to people that have been your everything for the past four months?  They are your friends, family, confidants, whatever.  And after I leave, that's it.  Most of these people will regress to just being friends on Facebook.  Yes, I know I'll most likely see a few of my friends at least once more, but it's still hard to wrap my head around the inevitability of leaving them behind when they've been so much apart of who I am now.  

Enough with the sappiness... maybe it's the American in me, but now I'm determined to stay optimistic.  I've never been a fan of goodbyes... I prefer the term "see you later."  So maybe instead of saying "goodbye" I'll just go with that. 

And to my ERASMUS friends? I don't think I'll ever be able to express how thankful I am to have met each and every one of you.  These past four months have been amazing, incredible, unbelievably fun, life changing, etc.  What else can I say? It's as simple and as that. 

So the other side of leaving... coming home.  I still can't comprehend the fact that I'll be home tomorrow.  In almost 24 hours (god willing the volcanic ash doesn't screw things up) I'll be back in America sleeping in my bed, eating American food, seeing my family and friends again.... I don't think I'll realize how much I've missed them until I see them again.  Half of me can't stand the thought of leaving, while the other half is so excited to see everyone again.  

So here I am, torn between two countries, two lives.  But America wins this round. Mostly because I already bought the plane ticket and becoming an illegal immigrant in Europe doesn't sound like a viable career... Kidding! ... But seriously, I wasn't able to find a way to make a career out of being an illegal immigrant.  

But saying goodbye, or rather "see you later," is just like ripping off a band-aid.  It's going to hurt, but it has to done.  I can't stay here forever and it's time to go back home, back to reality. But I won't mourn this loss, I'm determined to be the optimistic American again.  This quote pretty much sums up my feelings; *disclaimer* I don't fully remember this quote or where it comes from, but it goes something like this: How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. 

So goodbye for now Pecs! Goodbye for now Hungary! And ERASMUS guys? Well I'll just see you later ;-)

Peace Like a River? More Like a Mountain...

Perspective.  It's what everyone needs, but only few can attain this mindset... and even those who have gained "perspective" can only hold onto it for a few fleeting moments before it's lost to them again.  Inevitably life and reality catch up to us, and we're left waiting for it to find us once more.  Now I came to Hungary in search of a few things: new experiences, friendships, a better understanding of the world I live in, and most importantly, a better understanding of myself.  So basically I came here searching for more perspective on my life... who would have thought that I gained some understanding not in Hungary, but on a mountain in Montenegro. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  For those of you who don't know, this past week I went on a trip with four other friends to Serbia, Montenegro, Croatia, and Bosnia.  If I had to sum up this trip in one word, it would be Amazing.  It was arduous at times, especially when I failed at map reading and picture taking, but overall?  It was probably the best sightseeing trip I've ever been on.

We arrived in Belgrade in the early evening on Tuesday.  We didn't have a lot of time to see the city, but what I saw I really liked.  That night we ended up at a restaurant which thoroughly entertained me, but seemed to have annoyed my friends.  You know when you're watching the travel channel and the host visits a European restaurant complete with traditional food and a live folk band playing?  Well I finally got to experience that firsthand.  Feeling somewhat like Samantha Brown, I inhaled the atmosphere of the restaurant and just enjoyed myself.  They told me that American tourists eat this type of stuff up, and I totally did. 

Me enjoying some good ol' Serbian folk music...

The next day we had to get up early for our 10+ hour drive to Petrovacs, Montenegro.  Instead of traveling the fastest route, Karolis took us on a longer road.  I can't begin to thank him enough for this.  As we drove through the mountains, I quickly fell in love with all of my surroundings.  Even though spring had yet to hit this part of the country, everything was still breathtaking.

 After this long, but beautiful, car ride, we eventually reached Petrovacs, the small town on the coast of the Adriatic where our hotel was located.  We were in awe.  Luckily (thanks to Karl again) we were able to get a presidential suite for only 20 euros, per person per night.  So a presidential suite, with a hot breakfast included, and only two minutes from the beach?  SO much better than a hostel and SO worth it.  We were pretending to be spoiled rich kids while in Montenegro complete with champagne and strawberry toasts while watching the sunset from our terrace.

The next day we visited the capital city, Podgorica, and found it a little less than charming... As beautiful as Montenegro was, its capital city seemed the exact opposite.  Locals stared at the five of us as we passed like we were a different species...  The minute we stepped out of the car I was ready to get back in and leave.  Thankfully we were fine and in order to uphold our "rich kid image" we decided to rent a boat for an hour and drive around Skadar Lake (one of the largest lakes in Europe).  It was beautiful (of course) and we could even see the Albanian mountains from the lake.

Elodie, Julie, Loes, Me, and Karolis on "our" boat...

The next day was both my favorite and my least favorite part of our trip.  Our destination was Lovcen, a famous national park in Montenegro.  The road to get there? It's so lovingly nicknamed "Death Valley" road because it runs along the side of the mountain with short, small, sporadic stone walls, or nothing at all, to keep you from falling off the side of the mountain... and it was a long way down.  Did I mention that it was only one lane wide? When discussing it before we left I hadn't given much thought to it, and I naturally concluded that I would be calm and collected while on the road.  Well needless to say, I was dead wrong.  Within the first mile I knew that I wasn't going to be calm and collected at all.  I was torn between keeping my eyes on my feet or on the road.  My rational was that if we did end up falling to our deaths then I would want to know that it was coming rather than being surprised by it.  So I kept my eyes on the road and tried to stay quiet, which didn't always work out...

Thankfully we didn't die (obviously) but we weren't able to drive to the end of it because we eventually came across snow blanketing the remainder of the road.  Loes, Elodie, and Julie didn't feel like climbing the rest of the way so they decided to stay behind with the car.  But me? After just surviving the death road there was no way in hell that I wasn't going to see the top of that mountain.  So Karl and I started hiking.  Maybe it was the high altitude, the rattled nerves, my own lack of athleticism, or all of the above, but I took my time climbing to the top and just kept thinking "please don't faint... please don't faint...."

I don't think I'll ever forget my first look from the top of Lovcen.  When Karl and I finally stepped out of the dark tunnel of stairs into daylight, I think my heart skipped a beat.  Is it possible to actually fall in love with a place?  If so, I am irrevocably in love with this mountain.

After getting over my initial shock, we walked towards a building at the top and sat on a wall facing the mountains.  I don't think I've ever been so enraptured by nature before.  The mountains stretched on for forever and every now and then the clouds would shift and reveal even more mountains in the distance.

I was blissful.  Karl explained it best when he said that from up here everything just seems far away and simple... like it doesn't really matter.  I couldn't have agreed more.  All of my problems, anxieties, doubts, just seemed to feel unimportant.  The only thing that mattered in that moment was the fact that I was sitting on top of this mountain, looking at one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen in my life, and that I was with someone who understood exactly how I felt in that moment.  In life there are those few instances when everything just feels right.  As I sat there, with the wind smelling fresh and whipping through my hair, with the mountains in front of me and my problems behind me, with a friend next to me sharing the same feeling of awe, I just felt right.  Nothing could break me from that moment because nothing else mattered.

And there was my answer: this is what makes me happy.  Discovering the world outside of my life in New York, outside of my comfort zone.  I've always known that I've wanted to see the world, but now that I'm actually doing it, I just feel right.  I feel fulfilled for the first time in my life and it's addicting.  This is what I want to do and at the moment it's the only thing that I can really see myself doing.  You can call me crazy and impractical, but where there's a will there's a way, and I'm determined to find the way.

SO, now that I'm done with my introspective diatribe, I can fulfill the purpose of this blog for once and tell y'all what else happened on this trip.  After a while Karl and I actually stood up and went into the building (which I found out was the highest mausoleum in the world).  Petar II Petrovic Njegos, a ruler/philosopher/poet is buried there.  He wrote several poems about this mountain and the Montenegrins thought it would be appropriate for the two to be together forever, so they built the mausoleum and long story short, that's where he is.

Me with a statue of Njegos

Apparently the electricity was out while we were there, so we had to go into the tomb area with just a flashlight, and yes, it was creepy.  After we left the tomb we went back outside and sat down again.  I read out loud the story behind the mausoleum and Njegos to Karl.  Afterward we went back to the entrance of the building and just looked at the mountains again.

On top of Lovcen, outside the mausoleum

We weren't always so serious while there, I promise we had fun too lol

Inevitably the time came for us to leave... and it was hard to say goodbye.  I understand why Njegos was so attached to this mountain, it's absolutely breathtaking. 

After surviving the descent of the death road, we quickly visited another nearby town and then went back to Petrovacs to watch the sunset.  That night we enjoyed the final night in our suite, which was also really difficult to say goodbye to the next morning.  Before leaving Montenegro we went to a small town with two small islands off the coast.  We took a boat to one of the islands called "Our Lady of the Rocks," a man-made island created in honor of a painting they found in the town of Mary and Baby Jesus.

Petrovacs

Our Lady of the Rocks Island

After leaving Montenegro, we drove directly to Dubrovnik, Croatia, one of the oldest cities in the world.  This city was also really beautiful, it even reminded me of Venice in some ways because of its small alleyways.  We mostly just walked around an older part of the city by the coast and enjoyed the sun.  Lunch was probably my favorite part of the day; we sat in an outdoor restaurant by the water.  Karl and I ate fresh fried calamari and it was absolutely delicious (sorry Symeon's, but your calamari tastes like crap next to this).

After lunch, when we were all really full and really tired, we walked to a gondola lift to see a better view of the city (sans exercise).  Only Karl and I ended up going to the top again.  The feeling and the view didn't match Lovcen, but there's just something about being on top of a mountain (or more like very large hill in this case) that takes you away from everything, pauses life, and just allows you to think. 

Coast of Dubrovnik

Up the hill with the "rubber duck" shaped island on the right

It felt good to sit in the sun and watch the city below us for a few minutes.  As you can see the water looked beautiful and inviting, and you could see several Croatian islands not far off the coast.  Again it was hard to leave and travel back down to everything, but I have solace in the fact that I even had the opportunity to see even something so beautiful.

That night passed uneventfully (unless you count surfing through 900 channels of middle eastern call girls, middle eastern news, and christian advertisements).  The next morning we left early for Sarajevo, Bosnia.  I was a bit nervous for this last leg of the trip.  Back home in Utica, NY we have a lot of Bosnian immigrants and my experiences with them haven't been the most positive ones.  But apprehension aside, I tried to go into Bosnia with an open mind.  I was really pleasantly surprised by everything I saw.  The countryside was really beautiful and the capital city, Sarajevo, was perfect.  At first when driving into the city you just see the more modern buildings, but then the center is the complete opposite with old roads and small shops.  We walked through all of the center and some of the modern areas, ate lunch, and then left because all of us were tired and ready to get back. 

View of the old city in Sarajevo

So overall?  This trip was incredible for so many different reasons.  The places we went were beautiful, I wouldn't trade the people I went with for anyone else, the introspect I had while sitting on top of Lovcen was really insightful, and I just had fun, which was really all I had originally wanted.  It was exhausting though, in order to keep up with our tight schedule we always had to go to bed early and I passed out almost instantly every night (well, at least after the "anties" would let me fall asleep haha).  But even with the fatigue it was perfect and I loved every second of it.  

When we finally got back into Pecs I had this weird feeling like I was coming home.  I've only felt this way about a few places before: Holland Patent, the 1000 Islands, Aldersgate, and Nazareth.  So I was surprised that after only a couple of months I had this feeling about Pecs.  But when I finally got to my room, greeted Jihye, and laid down to go to bed, I had that feeling again.... the one where things just feel right.  For some inexplicable reason in that moment I knew that this is right.  It's right that I'm here with these people, it's right that I'm here now, it's right that I'm in Pecs and therefore it's only natural that Pecs feels like another home to me. 

Craving...

Have you ever woken up one morning and felt like something was missing?  Something just wasn't right but you can't really put your finger on it?  It started a few weeks ago, I wanted something... something more than what I already had... I tried reasoning with myself: what more could I possibly want?  I'm in Hungary, I've traveled to a few nearby countries, I'm having fun.... and? .....And I'm left wondering why I still have this feeling.  Think of it this way: you've finally gotten something that you've wanted for your entire life.... now what? How do you top it? Where do you go from that point?  Am I greedy for wanting more?  I don't think that's the case... humans have a tendency to be insatiable. 

So, like any natural human being I set out to figure out what it was that I wanted.   Searching for something ambiguous and abstract? Easier said than done.  I just tried to follow my instincts... when I wanted to do something, I did it. When I wanted to say something, I said it.  No questions, just actions.  Okay, so maybe I didn't do it to this extreme, but I tried at least, and it eventually led me somewhere. 

The other day Loes and I went to lunch and then ended up in the Arkad. While aimlessly wandering around we saw a bookstore that I knew sold English books. Immediately I knew that I couldn't leave the Arkad without something to read.  So we went in, eventually found the English book section littered with all different genres in no particular order.  Scanning the shelves for a familiar title, I instead found a familiar name: Ayn Rand.  For a brief second I was back in my AP English Lit class in my senior year.  I remember reading Rand's Anthem for the first time, it took me all of two hours to finish due to the fact that it was so short and I found it impossible to put down.  Decision made.  About two hours later Atlas Shrugged and I settled down in my dorm room and I began to lose myself in Rand's words once again. 

Within the first 10 pages I knew that I made the right decision.  My craving not exactly satisfied, but acknowledged at least:

"She thought: For just a few moments - while this lasts - it is all right to surrender completely - to forget everything and just permit yourself to feel.  She thought: Let go - drop the controls - this is it..."

So maybe I wasn't looking for something exactly, but more of a way to express myself; a way to better understand how I've been feeling for the past two months.  Here, especially as an Erasmus (or technically Exchange) student, it's easy to lose yourself.  Reality slowly slips away and all you really care about is what's happening here and now.  It's the news from back home, good or bad, that reminds you of what's really going on, and it's left me kind of disoriented.  When all you want is to live in the moment, it's the people from back home that leave you feeling torn between two places.  All it takes is a conversation with your friends, the knowledge that someone needs you back home, or the simple "I miss you" that you hear every so often.  And so I'm left wondering, what am I doing here?  Thankfully Ayn Rand helped me figure it out. 

So here I am, in Hungary, for this transient period of time, half of it already gone... and lately I've been obsessing over what's been going on at home.  I'm not saying that I should be ignoring my family and friends, but I should be sure that I'm appreciating and taking in every moment that I can.  So I put this newly found philosophy to use: yesterday a few of us decided to find a chapel in Pecs that was built in the 1600s and allegedly had an incredible view.  The climb to it wasn't ideal, but the view? Perfect. Pecs is small, beautiful, and I love it. I wandered off by myself at one point and just stood at the edge of the hill, the warm breeze ruffling and tangling my hair, but I didn't care.  I just stood there, remembering Rand's words and let go.  

I'm glad I was alone because the expression on my face must have been priceless considering that I was somewhere between laughing and crying.  Laughing because I'm still so happy that I came here that sometimes I can't believe it; and crying because... well I'm not really sure.  Maybe it was because I was so happy and appreciative that I was to the point of tears, or maybe it was because I have the tendency to want to share my happiness, and I couldn't because the people I like to share my happiness with the most, like family and friends from back home, weren't there.  I wouldn't call it homesickness because these emotions were fleeting, but I missed them in this moment more than usual. 

But still I stood there, relishing every sight, sound, smell, and emotion.  Feeling both happy and somewhat sad, and all the while very pensive as I stood there just watching the city below me.  After a few minutes I wandered back to my friends and we sat and talked about inconsequential topics like television shows and what type of plastic surgery would you get if it was free.  And then my friend Karolis said something that at first made absolutely no sense to me at all.  He was asked why he wanted to be in the U.S. so much and he said that even though he was very unlucky the first time he was there, he still loved everything about it.  I thought, usually if you have just one bad experience it has the potential to ruin your entire time, so how could he love it so much?  

It took me a few minutes, but then I understood because I realized that I feel the exact same way.  Since I've been here countless negative things have happened to me: I sprained my wrist, I've had unforeseen expenses, I've been severely sick more than once (I've even spent more time sick than healthy here), I seem to wake up with a new mysterious and painful bruise almost everyday, I even inhaled a bug today.... but would I rather be at home?  Never.  I love it here.  Pecs maybe small, the routine may get boring at times, I might get sick of failing to communicate properly, but do i want to leave?  Not at all.  Like Rand said, I only have a few moments here, so I'm giving in to my emotions and appreciating it while I can... and I plan on making these final two months last.

Anna Beasley: World Traveler.... Sort of.

A twinge of pain in my neck wakes me up suddenly as I feel the area around me vibrate and rock gently.  Not wanting to open my eyes just yet, I attempt to stretch my limbs in the cramped car, but instead I push Pavlina into Julie and have now made not only myself more uncomfortable, but my friends as well. Oh well. Slowly I open my eyes and see only a blaze of gold and pink.  Squinting and trying to make sense of my surroundings, I see that we're on the Slovenian highway traveling towards mountains.  Discomfort is the furthest thing from my mind now.  I am vaguely aware of "Quelqu'un m'a dit" playing through my iPod and the only other thing that I can comprehend is the fact that I am watching the sunset over the mountains in Slovenia and its one of the most beautiful things I've seen since I've been in Europe.  I did not bother to take a picture because I knew it would be impossible to capture exactly what I was seeing.  The combination of the sunlight and the fog made seem flawless, more like a painting than anything else.  In that moment nothing could have torn my concentration away from this perfection.....

Exhaustion: weariness, lassitude, and/or the perpetual condition I was in during this trip.  But was it worth it? Ten thousand times yes.  I can't even begin to describe my feelings about these three days.  For those of you who don't know, I traveled with 9 other Erasmus students to Zagreb, Croatia; Ljubljana, Slovenia; and (by far my favorite) Venice, Italy.  Each city was better than the last offering more history and breathtaking architecture.  I barely had time to take it all in.  Absentmindedly I would become quiet, look up and just feel the old, rough stone underneath my fingertips.  Yes, I know it sounds weird, I was told that it was, but still, I don't care. All I wanted to do was take in the moment, and the best way to make a memory is if you use as many senses as possible, so I would try and take in everything that I could and be as reverent as possible (which was hard sometimes because it's virtually impossible for the 10 if us to be serious all at once).

Zagreb:

Cathedral in Zagreb (one tower is under construction).

The inside of the Cathedral was absolutely beautiful, and to think, it's not even one of the popular European Cathedrals.

The theater in Zagreb, also beautiful.

Group picture in Zagreb!

Ljubljana:

Me looking out over the city of Ljubljana (pronounced loo-blee-ah-nah)

Here we spent the night in a hostel where, like in Budapest, there were many Americans (and one that went to St. John Fisher for a year, go figure).  That night we also went out for Mexican food, not Slovenian, but did I complain? NOPE! It was nice to have familiar food for once, not to mention that it was absolutely delicious.  

 Ljubljana really was a picturesque European city.  Absolutely beautiful.  While we were here the city was celebrating Carnival (which is like a mix between Marti Gras and Halloween... very interesting to say the least).  

Group picture on the tower over looking the city

Venice:

What is there to say about Venice other than the obvious? It was breathtaking, amazing, surreal, wonderful, etc. etc... At one point Loes and I were walking through the city together.  I turned to her and said, "Loes... we're walking through Venice, during Carnival, eating gelato.... I don't think life can get any better." 

Like I said... breathtaking.

Masks they were selling for Carnival

Me on one of the many bridges in Venice

While walking through the streets in Venice you constantly come across bridges that span the canals.  Every time we crossed a bridge, without fail, you could always hear at least one of us girls gasp because we thought it was so beautiful.  Even though every bridge and surrounding buildings were basically the same, we were still compelled to take a picture.  Now I have about 10 pictures that look like I took them from the same position.

Group picture in Venice

Overall? This trip was amazing and I can't wait for the next one. This is why I came to Europe: to see and experience.  And now that I'm finally here and doing what I've always wanted?  I couldn't be happier. 

p.s. Thank you to Karolis for planning this wonderful trip and thank you to Loes and Stepan because I stole some of these pictures from them :-)

Panni Vagyok

Breathing... Kind of an important part of surviving. Shallow, labored breaths are all I can manage right now.  I feel terrible for my roommate Jihye, I don't know if she's had a complete nights sleep since I've gotten sick due to my constant coughing.  I will perish here... Some rare strain of Hungarian flu has settled in my lungs and sinuses and my immune system can't handle it.  Okay... maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic, but I don't think I can avoid the doctor's office anymore.  I've officially been sick for over a week and nothing has changed. 

Whatever, sickness is just a minor detail in what has happened in the past week...

Hungarian: one of the most complex and challenging languages to learn, and I'm obsessed.  My Hungarian class has quickly become my favorite class.  I've always wanted to learn a second language (and I don't think I can count my stunted vocabulary of Spanish as a second language anymore) so why not Hungarian? I know I have no real hope of coming anywhere near fluent in only four months, but I'm hoping that I can learn a few important things: "Hello, my name is Anna" "Where is the bathroom?" "One beer please" etc.  Lately I find myself walking down the street and trying to pronounce the words on the signs.  Although I try to say it in my head, it probably looks like I'm talking to myself because I get frustrated and repeat it again until I get it right (thanks Dad because I inherited this quirky trait from you).  

Along with the language, I find myself wanting to learn about the culture and the history.  One night last week, my friend Loes and I found ourselves in need of something to do, so we decided to learn a traditional Greek dance with our Hungarian friend Luca.  As it so happens, the class wasn't being offered that night, so we went to a cafe instead with Luca and two of her friends.  Hours passed and we barely had time to notice.  We talked about almost everything and I loved hearing stories and facts about the country.  My favorite part of the night was when I learned that in Hungarian I have a nickname.  Is it weird that I always wanted one?  Apparently girls named Anna can have the nickname "Panni," (pronounced Pon-ee) and if they're young it's "Pannika." Needless to say, when I found out that I had a nickname I got really excited, maybe even a bit too excited over something that really isn't that big of a deal.

Anyway, the next day Loes, Dora, Melia, and I set off for Budapest.  As we made our way through the city it was hard to pay attention to where we were walking.  When we found our hostel I was a bit concerned.  It was down the street from a strip club and the building was really dark when we first walked in.  Dora pretty much summed up my feelings when she said, "We will die here..."

Thumbs Up Hostel

Inside the bedroom

It was actually a really nice hostel.  The manager Gabe was really nice and recommended things for us to do and told us about places we could eat.  The beds were kind of uncomfortable, and the pillows were ridiculously small, but everything else was really great.  We shared a room with three American students from Boston and a Canadian who was on his way to India.  

Loes' cousin Mieke is studying in Budapest this semester so she showed us around the city:

This was the Jewish synagogue that was really close to our hostel

Chain Bridge with Buda Castle in the background

We also went to a restaurant called, in English, The Blue Rose where we had traditional Hungarian foods like goulash soup (which was absolutely delicious).  After dinner we went back to the hostel and got ready for our night out.  While getting ready I had a chance to talk to the Canadian, his name was Tanner, and discovered that he had already actually been traveling for the past six months and was now planning on staying in India for at least four months.  It sounded like he was having an "Eat, Pray, Love" adventure.  Nonetheless, he enraptured me with his countless stories about where he's gone and what he's been doing, and he made me cringe when he was talking about his trip to the Amazon and the size of spiders you can find there.... ugh... Regardless, I'm unbelievably jealous of everything he's been able to do in the past year and couldn't seem to stop asking him questions.

Later that night we went out to a popular bar called "Szimpla," which looked like a combination of a basement and a drug house.  After getting over the initial shock of thinking "where the hell am I" and "what are my chances of leaving here alive," I sat down, looked around, and actually decided that I really liked the eccentric atmosphere.  If this had been a bar in America, however, a girl would walk in, decide that she would be safer in a New York City alleyway at 2 a.m., and promptly leave.  But this is Europe, not America, so I enjoyed myself.  

Us in Szimpla where we found Max, another Erasmus student from Pecs visiting his girlfriend for the weekend... Small world

The next day we set off with Tanner to see some of the other things that Budapest had to offer:

The Terror House, a museum that was once the party headquarters for the Hungarian Nazis. 

Many people were tortured, imprisoned and killed here.  It was a sobering tour, but really interesting and I'm glad we went.  I realized that I, an American grandchild of a WWII veteran, cannot, and will not ever fully comprehend the tragedy of this war.  I was not alive during it, I did not lose a family member to it, and the war wasn't fought on American soil.  I was shocked at how I was just realizing this now.  I just never realized how removed I am from this war, and I know that I'll never be able to fully comprehend the loss and tragedy that the people here had to endure.  Needless to say, I was beyond humbled.  

Okay, onto a lighter topic.  After the museum, we made our way over to Buda:

The Parliament building and I... it's postcard worthy

This castle-esque structure is called the Fisherman's Bastion

I honestly don't know what else to say.  Budapest was beautiful.  Did we do much while we were there? No, we came to simply see things, and really that's all we needed from this trip.  Are we going back? Of course, we barely even scratched the surface of everything Budapest has to offer, and I cannot wait to discover what else we'll find here.

Barbra Streisand

A blast of icy wind startles me as I make my way down the lamp lit street.  After closing my eyes for the briefest second I look up and see a combination of snow and rain illuminated in the lights above my head.  It's beautiful, but none the less cold, so we begin to walk faster due to our need of warmth, drinks, and, most importantly, a good time.  We arrive at the club, always hoping for a student discount, but not always getting one, pay the entrance fee and check our coats.  Usually I'm the last one to finish doing so because I'm still in the process of deflating my large personal space bubble that Americans are accustomed to.  Therefore I'm not quite used to asserting my position in line, but I am getting better (that old lady in Burger King didn't know what hit her...)

I check my coat, find my group and we make our way onto the dance floor.  A haze of smoke is the first thing I see and breathe in.  I take a second to acclimate my lungs and proceed to the bar.  After deflating my space bubble a little more, I get my drink and join the other students on the dance floor.  We attempt to make a circle but in a crowd like this it is virtually impossible.  As we dance, or at least try to dance, the music is all you hear and it's what you hold onto.  The lights overhead beam different colors onto the crowd and everyone is in someway dancing to the beat.  

The chord progression signals that a new song is about to start.  All at once everyone around me is beginning to yell and jump... I may have missed something.  Everyone knows this song that I've never heard before.  Not that it was hard to catch onto, the lyrics are just "ooo" and every now and then the artist throws in a "Barbra Streisand."  But for some reason it seems to be one of everyone's, and I include myself in this, favorite song to hear at the club.  I can already tell that whenever I hear this song I'm immediately going to think of Erasmus. 

Barbra Streisand Video

Ode to the Comforts of Home

Riddle: How do you dry 2 and a half weeks worth of clothes with no dryer, no hangers, no clothesline, and no drying rack?  I don't think there is a right or wrong answer here. My method? I take grocery bags, lie them on my bed, and lay out as many clothes as possible on them.  And what about the remainder of my clothes? I just find any surface possible that I can lay them on.  It's a wonderful system, I know, and, as you might have already guessed, every surface on my side of the room is covered in damp clothing.  At least the air is filled with the smell of... whatever scent my laundry detergent is... mandulatej?

As you can now tell, my Hungarian language skills have also not improved.  This has gotten me into some troubles when buying food.  For example, lets venture back to Thursday.  I was hungry and had to go to the grocery store.  I have this wonderful idea that maybe I should make myself some Chicken Riggies for dinner! Now that I'm anticipating a taste of home, I immediately embark on my journey to Spar and begin looking for the correct ingredients.  While I'm making my dinner, I soon realize that something doesn't smell right.... the sauce.... actually, it doesn't look quite right either. It turns out that I bought something closer to tomato paste than spaghetti sauce.  Oh yeah, and it tasted absolutely awful, I wouldn't even let anyone try it.  Needless to say I kept avoiding it and eventually threw it away because I couldn't even bring myself to try and digest it.  Oh well... live and learn... or in my case, make the same mistake a few times and eventually figure out what I've been doing wrong.

The weekend, however, went by much smoother for me.  A group of girls and I ventured into the city and visited some of the monuments (which I relished every second of).  We went to a cafe in the city center and ate pastries, drank cappuccinos, and just talked.  It made me think of my roommates and how we would do the same thing... except substitute the pastries and cappuccinos for Wegman's macaroni and cheese and/or Oreos (p.s. Happy Birthday Emily!). 

And now that brings to Monday... I have always hated Mondays.  For some reason every bad mood, undone chore, and any other problem always surfaces on a Monday.  I woke up to the sight of too many dirty clothes and the sound of my alarm blaring in my ear reminding me that I still need to take care of my registration issues.  Well, I won't get into the mundane and unpleasant details of my day, but all that you need to know is that its Tuesday, my laundry is almost dry, my classes are finally chosen, and my mood has significantly improved.  TGI Tuesday...