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Rhapsody’s last note

in FEATURES by

By Hannah Gordon

Czech Correspondent

It’s mind blowing how in a few months, a city that began as completely foreign can become home.

I went to Budapest last weekend. Most of my time was spent wandering around the Great Market Hall, the largest and oldest indoor market in Budapest, and a small outdoor market selling artisan goods. I still can’t figure out if it was a permanent fixture or a seasonal market.

On Saturday, my friend Rachel and I planned all of the sights we wanted to see for the day. First on the list was the Terror House, a museum of communism and fascism in Hungary.  The building where the museum is located is the former headquarters of both regimes. The multimedia displays, complete with eerie music and dim lighting, transported visitors back to the times of terror in Hungary. The Terror House is definitely one of the best museums I’ve been to in my life. (Side note: This was a well-timed trip, because I gave a presentation on interwar Hungary on Monday.)

After the Terror House, we stopped in Heroes Square. We were right on time for a ceremony involving horses, traditional Hungarian garb, a priest and a lot of singing. I wish I could say what it was exactly, but no one spoke English and many Google searches have come up with no relevant information.

Next on the list was to visit a bath, which essentially is a rightly glorified public pool. We went to the Schenzyi Bath. Although it boasts 18 pools, a few saunas and massage and nail care services, we spent our entire afternoon in the outside baths. We neglected the lap pool and switched between the 100-degree and 85-degree baths. Then we’d lie out on the concrete and tan for a bit before we got back in the water. Sixty-year-old men in speedos played chess on the edge of the bath. Other people read books or chatted on the steps, and others just floated around the water. It was wonderfully relaxing on a 78-degreee day.

Getting on a bus to return to Praha wasn’t just returning to my dorm; it was returning home. I have three weeks and one day until my flight back to the States takes off. A trip to Scotland (and perhaps a day trip or two), two final papers, a presentation and three final exams stand between me and my friends and family.

I’d be lying if I said I weren’t excited to get home and eat some wings, play with my dogs and pass out presents. But it would be equally silly to pretend I won’t talk about this experience all summer and into next semester.

I’m going to tell everyone about my travels and the people I’ve met. I’m going to talk about how the cobblestone roads claimed two pairs of shoes and complain about how three tour groups of 40 people each tried to jam onto one tram car with their backpacks and selfie sticks. I’m going to show everyone pictures and reminisce with the friends I’ve made here.

A part of my heart will forever be stuck in these four months, and I’m leaving that piece in Praha. I hope I can come back to collect it one day.

gordonhr13@bonaventure.edu

 

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