Trying To Act Casual

Welcome to blog post round 2, where this time I’ll be pretending to act busy and natural while my NEW HUNGARIAN ROOMATE!!!! unpacks her things. This is also a good excuse to write more about my life instead of creeping her out as I watch out of my peripherals with curious excitement. I just want to be friends, is that too much to ask?

In just two weeks, Budapest has quickly drawn me into her free-flowing and gracious rhythm. The locals are inviting and warm and approach their days with an easy stride. It’s delightful that despite their tumultuous and shaky history, people are generally steady and kind and they accept us with open arms. This morning we met a fellow Hungarian student from our dorm and he accompanied us to church. Their unhesitant “Yes, I’ll come with you!” attitude makes for fast friends.

Thanks to people I have met, as well as the unending energy in Budapest, I am already calling this place my home. I’m not confident that I can pinpoint the specific time or place that Hungary started to feel like home, but when I wake up in the morning and scurry down the hall in my fluffy pink robe, it feels familiar and routine. Even the curtain-less showers and the yank-chain toliets are comforting in a dilapidated style (Note: I still prefer these modern, American luxuries).

In the past week our group has wandered to places all over the city, including breathtaking churches, relaxing gardens, and graffitied bars which have given me differing views of the city and her people, a balance which I am still trying to figure out.


Inside one of the most beautiful churches..


Never-ending Margaret Island


I’m in a ruin!


This creepy old man won our Amazing Race team a chocolate bar. Win-Win.

Highlights from this week include: a 3+ hours Hungarian Jewish Folk concert, a visit to Margaret Island (a HUGE and gorgeous island in the middle of the Danube River), a tour of the Parliament, as well as purchasing jewelry from the Jewish Bazaar this afternoon. Oh and getting a pastry every time I came out of the metro.  (IT JUST SMELLS SO GOOD!)


 Ruins of the convent where St. Margaret lived for 20 years


This doesn’t even do justice

Alas, time to go, Doris is unpacking and I’m feeling like an unhelpful American.



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