It is quite humiliating to admit that I could not remember the drink I was suppose to open this second blog of mine with. It wasn’t the strong local drink Palinka liquer. Adding too much drama can sometimes spoil the fun. Utterly embarrassing! Although, I do have a valid reason why I dont' remember... I didn't have sleep last night as my airport shuttle picked me up at 3AM and Nadia and I just chatted the whole night. I am riding this KLM plane and the engine is just unbearable...
Voila! My memory fails me not! In wintertime, Hungarians drink hot red wine in the streets. I suppose it is a local tradition but I have seen the same thing in Prague when I went to visit the touristy place. After having dinner at Fahsion street with my father and ‘Tito’ Lito, my classmates and I (Jessica, Jamie, Mia, Kenn and King) walked back to our apartment on that chilling night. It was then when we all agreed to sample the delicacy. Hot wine tasted like it didn’t have that much alcohol. I am not sure if this is because the spirit left the beverage while boiling it or it is not really wine at all. I am not certain about it. What I do remember was that it was hot, sweet and somewhat sour. All in all, it was delightful.
Walking late night in Budapest is not a hair-raising experience compared to Manila. In fact there was an instance when I had to walk by myself at 3AM coming from a birthday party. When I was a couple of blocks away from my home, I suddenly heard the unannounced rushing screech of roller blades that scared me to the bones. And then the words “Filipino Idol” was trumpeted by Mexican-sounding voice which true enough was my boisterous Mexican friend Angel. What a coincidence!
No matter how I rejoice by the fact that I have never experienced discrimination or any untoward incident, I still have to mention that just like any other place, violence does exist in Hungary. The controversial statement “Roma/Gipsy Crime” is not a myth because I have heard of alarming stories about it. Of course tension rises because it has a racial factor involved here. Nevertheless, whoever does the crime, it should be plainly treated and penalize as such. This means that one has to always be of sound mind when walking at night or even talking to the homeless or anyone suspicious. To insert a quick boasting, I aced my report on the Roma/Gipsy situation in Hungary for my Hungarian Culture presentation in class.
Ooops, let’s go back to drinks… According to one of our outspoken classmates, Thomas van ____________, a well-mannered Dutchman, he enthusiastically informed our crowed that Hungary ranked one of the highest in alcohol consumption. This is the only amusing and sometimes unnerving sight during late nights, that is, when you see a drunk walking zigzag along the pathway or enters the tram with a foul smell and loud mouth. One could only ignore or walk away. Unfortunately, once I stupidly did something other than the two. I responded to a babbling baboon, este, drunk old lady in the bus. Worse I replied to her in French saying that I don’t speak Hungarian. For some strange reason she replied to me in Spanish! Either, I sounded Spanish when I spoke French, looked Mexican or Spanish or she saw Daniel the Mexican wonder boy and associated him to me thus speaking Espagnol! It was incredibly frightful when held my arm and breathed on my neck a phrase in Magyar. Lesson learned. Never again.
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