Sink or Swim?

Sink or Swim? When you live in a foreign country I think it's impossible not to run into a psychic brick wall and wonder why the hell you're still here. I'm doing my best to keep my head above water. Click 'read more' for more.

While it's pretty typical for English language media in Hungary to take a big break around the holidays, Budacast has taken things to an extreme. I think the last show I posted before this week's was at the end of November.

It's both me and Hungary. Me, because it seems impossible not to get dragged down into the existential muck that is the winter in Hungary; and Hungary because, love it or loathe it, is just not Spain. "Keserűméz" they say, bitter honey. That's what it's like living here. It's not a Prozac existence - you get the highs (yes!) and the lows (uh oh...).

Life is never really boring here. In addition to the possibility of a pretty big change in my personal life, Budapest never fails to fling a monkey wrench into the works. Just after my move to a new flat, my backpack was stolen right out of the locker at the Lukács fürdő. What was supposed to be a relaxing hour of steam to alleviate the symptoms of my headcold turned out to be a nightmare.

There I was, standing in my dripping bathing suit with a postage-sized polyester towel and nothing to put on. My locker had not been forced open, the backpack with my clothes, wallet, keys, pendrive and papers to apply for Irish citizenship had just disappeared.

The locker attendant stood there and told of all the different ways stupid guests had left their things or had them stolen. It was a bit too much "splainin'" for my taste. Was he responsible? It sure seemed likely.

Be careful. Unfortunately, you can never take for granted who is going to rip you off in Hungary. From the greengrocer who jacks up your total for the fruit you've just bought, to the taxi driver taking you over three bridges on the Danube, it's just not easy to single out who's trying to scam you. It's a shame, because this country has a lot of potential. But without basic trust, it makes you wonder how things will move forward here.

Having lived here so many years, I'm able to avoid most of the scams. But at the Lukács I let my guard down a bit and was speaking loudly to my buddy in the next cabin as we changed into our bathing suits. It will be a great day when foreigners are not seen as targets with deep pockets.

My thief only got HUF 3,000. I would've paid more to retrieve my personal things.

My friend's girlfriend was kind enough to bring me her colleague's workout shorts and t-shirt - both dry. Looking a bit like a mountain climber in my shorts and hiking boots, András took me over to the police station to file a report. The cop who filed the report, who kept his sunglasses on the whole time, was wonderfully jovial and helpful. Still, it is a shame that Hungarians seem to accept theft/break-ins as just a fact of life. The feeling that nothing's going to happen anyway just lingers in the air.

Of course, when the highs come back in the spring, we'll have forgotten all about this. It'll be all about soaking up the suds on rooftop clubs, bumping into old acquaintances on the street, running on Margaret island, etc. I can't wait.