Needless to say I'm back from my trip abroad. It was gorgeous, fascinating and admittedly... educational. The way the rolling hills stretched the land was rivetting to the human eye. In this far off distance one could decipher the outlines of foothills to mountains of greater proportion. Yet, this basinous landscape had so much to offer and this was apparent as I witnessed the mighty Danube for my first time. This river, that was once like an artery, to the extent that it connected so much of Europe many years ago as a neccesity. Yet, even after the advent of industry and technology this body of water continues to thrive and serve both Buda and Pest.The culture of this great city is vivid and pragmatic. The milky green statues who were situated in the center of Bupapest told the country's history while metaphorically alluding to far more greater truths. The seven horseman who gaurded the nations crown and staff were symbols to the first tribes of Hunary. But more impressively, the two twelve foot chariots spun a tale. A tale wherethe Hungarians readily welcomed peace, yet their vigilance and fierce pride would lead them to War, when necessary.
The cuisine in Hungary was interesting. First, I can say that I have never ingested so much sodium in my life. The bacon enriched meals were of course welcomed but all the meals seems to have an extra kick of salt to them. Regardless, I got to try some great Goulash for the first time in my life, and my host family was especially concerned about my hunger (a feeling I never experienced in hungary...ironically enough) My favorite meal was by far my vice, a dessert. The traditional Hungarian spongecake. Those chocolate covered, cream laden, whipped delacacies found the right spot in my stomach and was it ever good.
Yet, no matter how good that was what I think will stay with me the most is the memories I have developed of Hungary. Every interaction I had with the people was memorable as I look back and apreciate the connections I developed in my short time in Vezprem. When I came back I saw the stain of grass on the bottom of my jeans that I wore to Lake Balaton. For a moment I stopped and thought "should I wash these?" Then without hesitation I threw them in the washer and realized the impressions of Hungary I have are much deeper than grass. But it's stange, I never though I'd miss grass.