Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
"The Nazi Protest" or "Why Reece Should Pay Better Attention to His Surroundings"
Back story:
My Functional Analysis professor is extremely political and, I have recently heard, a somewhat controversial figure in Budapest politics. He likes to keep us updated on the hilarious political happenings of the city, which sometimes includes telling us places to "avoid" on certain days. So far I have not been let down by studiously "avoiding" these places. Long story short, a bunch of Nazis firebombed a Jewish store, then got totally owned by anti-Nazis. The Nazis were angry and swore to start a flash-mob/riot, and in response the President personally went to the store, promised police-protection there, and called on people to anti-protest the Nazis. And then the Prime Minister himself said he would appear to make a speech. For those who didn't get my facebook message, my professor summed it up pretty well: "Now Hungarian -hate- Nazis. But they are also not fond of the PM.) You can read a bit more here:
Story:
So I'm trying to decide whether or not to go, since my professor made it clear that there would be a definite possibility of violence. I figure: the worst that can happen is grievous bodily harm inflicted by a Nazi, which would in fact be pretty cool. I called it a push, and off I went.
Ok, here's the setting (not drawn to scale)
The pink dot is the store in question. The black lines are barriers. The smiley faces are friendly police officers who explain to people why they shall not pass. The frowny faces are large, angry-looking riot squad guys in full armor.
When I get there, there are a lot of people milling around 2, so I decide to see if I can get around the backside to get a better view. When I pass the park, I notice a crowd of people there. Odd, but I think nothing of it. As I'm approaching 1, I briefly walk beside a parked bus. Just as I'm about to clear it, 20 people come rushing down the street at me with cameras blazing. Confused, I clear the bus, look to my left and, bam, right there next to me, maybe three feet away is the Prime Minister of Hungary! My brain briefly ceases to function. There is a rush of people and somehow I end up 3rd in line to shake the Prime Ministers hand. Still not sure about my opinion of the man, I confusedly stumble out of line (I know I know. I still maintain that this was the right thing to do. People hate this guy.) If you look at the article above, I was right next to the camera man. So after he shakes some hands and kisses (taste-testing?) some babies, he goes and makes a speech which receives mostly cheers. This confuses me. Where are the Nazis?
I look across the sectioned off square and see that the other side has pretty much completely emptied out. That's strange. Because of where the speeches are happening I decide to go see if 2 has a better view. On my way I notice that the crowd of people from the park are all marching towards the protest sight. I think "Hey, crowds of people generally walk towards interesting things." I merge in with them, since we're going the same way anyway. I look around as the mass of people, and as I get sucked into the middle I notice some things. Now we peer in on my inner-monologue:
"Man. Hungarians sure wear a lot of leather. It's freaking hot out they muse be miserable.
Ha, I'm totally right they do all look pretty angry
...
Jeez, that's some pretty angry metal music too.
...
...
Hey what's thOHMYGODIMSURROUNDEDBYNAZIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
That's right, I was smack in the middle of maybe 300-400 chanting, belligerent, and often drunken Nazis all trying to crowd into a very narrow street. I had unfortunately not put together the fact that that the protest zone was split into two with the fact that there were effectively two protests going on. But it was too late. I was crushed in the middle of the crowd now, and trying to get out would mean stepping on a lot of angry, steel-toed Nazi military boots. Nonetheless, I hesitant a little, trying to do a quick risk/benefit analysis, and as soon as I do I am immediately shoved and angrily yelled at by a man with many spikes in his face and and on his clothing. I quickly decide that my only option is forward.
So I'm stuck on the wrong side of the protest, surrounded by angry Nazis who have now started singing very angry sounding songs and who really look like they want to have a go at the counter-protesters, who are chanting back. I eventually, after several very tense minutes, manage to escape to the goodguy side of the protest and watch the rest of the happenings from there. Fortunately nothing much else happened and the Nazis dispersed. In my defense, the flag they were flying was not one I had ever seen before (see Árpád flag) and that same design was the prominent on leather-jackets, tattoos etc. I'm guessing that the swastika is illegal here like it is in other European countries, which is why they use this instead.
My Functional Analysis professor is extremely political and, I have recently heard, a somewhat controversial figure in Budapest politics. He likes to keep us updated on the hilarious political happenings of the city, which sometimes includes telling us places to "avoid" on certain days. So far I have not been let down by studiously "avoiding" these places. Long story short, a bunch of Nazis firebombed a Jewish store, then got totally owned by anti-Nazis. The Nazis were angry and swore to start a flash-mob/riot, and in response the President personally went to the store, promised police-protection there, and called on people to anti-protest the Nazis. And then the Prime Minister himself said he would appear to make a speech. For those who didn't get my facebook message, my professor summed it up pretty well: "Now Hungarian -hate- Nazis. But they are also not fond of the PM.) You can read a bit more here:
Story:
So I'm trying to decide whether or not to go, since my professor made it clear that there would be a definite possibility of violence. I figure: the worst that can happen is grievous bodily harm inflicted by a Nazi, which would in fact be pretty cool. I called it a push, and off I went.
Ok, here's the setting (not drawn to scale)
The pink dot is the store in question. The black lines are barriers. The smiley faces are friendly police officers who explain to people why they shall not pass. The frowny faces are large, angry-looking riot squad guys in full armor.
When I get there, there are a lot of people milling around 2, so I decide to see if I can get around the backside to get a better view. When I pass the park, I notice a crowd of people there. Odd, but I think nothing of it. As I'm approaching 1, I briefly walk beside a parked bus. Just as I'm about to clear it, 20 people come rushing down the street at me with cameras blazing. Confused, I clear the bus, look to my left and, bam, right there next to me, maybe three feet away is the Prime Minister of Hungary! My brain briefly ceases to function. There is a rush of people and somehow I end up 3rd in line to shake the Prime Ministers hand. Still not sure about my opinion of the man, I confusedly stumble out of line (I know I know. I still maintain that this was the right thing to do. People hate this guy.) If you look at the article above, I was right next to the camera man. So after he shakes some hands and kisses (taste-testing?) some babies, he goes and makes a speech which receives mostly cheers. This confuses me. Where are the Nazis?
I look across the sectioned off square and see that the other side has pretty much completely emptied out. That's strange. Because of where the speeches are happening I decide to go see if 2 has a better view. On my way I notice that the crowd of people from the park are all marching towards the protest sight. I think "Hey, crowds of people generally walk towards interesting things." I merge in with them, since we're going the same way anyway. I look around as the mass of people, and as I get sucked into the middle I notice some things. Now we peer in on my inner-monologue:
"Man. Hungarians sure wear a lot of leather. It's freaking hot out they muse be miserable.
Ha, I'm totally right they do all look pretty angry
...
Jeez, that's some pretty angry metal music too.
...
...
Hey what's thOHMYGODIMSURROUNDEDBYNAZIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
That's right, I was smack in the middle of maybe 300-400 chanting, belligerent, and often drunken Nazis all trying to crowd into a very narrow street. I had unfortunately not put together the fact that that the protest zone was split into two with the fact that there were effectively two protests going on. But it was too late. I was crushed in the middle of the crowd now, and trying to get out would mean stepping on a lot of angry, steel-toed Nazi military boots. Nonetheless, I hesitant a little, trying to do a quick risk/benefit analysis, and as soon as I do I am immediately shoved and angrily yelled at by a man with many spikes in his face and and on his clothing. I quickly decide that my only option is forward.
So I'm stuck on the wrong side of the protest, surrounded by angry Nazis who have now started singing very angry sounding songs and who really look like they want to have a go at the counter-protesters, who are chanting back. I eventually, after several very tense minutes, manage to escape to the goodguy side of the protest and watch the rest of the happenings from there. Fortunately nothing much else happened and the Nazis dispersed. In my defense, the flag they were flying was not one I had ever seen before (see Árpád flag) and that same design was the prominent on leather-jackets, tattoos etc. I'm guessing that the swastika is illegal here like it is in other European countries, which is why they use this instead.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
First post!
We join our travelling hero on his 3rd day in Budapest. The story so far:
The flight from Newark to Heathrowe was terrible. Right as we passed over those eastern regions of Canada, we had half-an-hour of the worst turbulence I have ever experienced. We're talking bone-rattling, stomach-churning, glass-in-cart breaking quality turbulence that went on for 25-30 minutes straight. The one redeeming part of the trip was flying into a fog-blanketed London. The fog was so thick that the lights of the city made it look like a patchwork quilt, so I wanted nothing more than to wrap my self in London and get some real sleep.
After arriving in Budapest, one of the first things I was half-jokingly told by the woman who picked me up was "Don't smile, and don't ever be nice. You are in Eastern Europe now, and we are all depressed and mean."
Hungary has an interesting history. They've been on the losing side of pretty much every war in Europe, and is conveniently located located in one of the "must have" spots for anyone trying to take over Europe. Budapest alone has been more or less completely destroyed by invaders, liberators, and floods at least four times in the past 1000 years by my count. The result is a city where the Architecture varies wildly. There isn't really anything left standing from before the neo-classical era of Hungarian Architecture, but since then Bupapest has gone through a "neo" phase for most types of buildings, so combined with the scattered, actually old buildings, the city is a bizzare mix of the old-looking, the actually old, and the painfully modern.
My apartment is very interesting. Here's a little puzzle for anyone who has read this far: I estimate my apartment to have about 1920 cubic feet of space, not including my bathroom and showerroom. I only have three pieces of furniture: my bed, my desk/chair, and my normal size dresser. Nonetheless, there is only one spot about 1sqft total in my entire apartment in which I can spread my arms and spin around without touching anything. What does my apartment look like?
I haven't explored the culture of the city very much yet, because I'm still a bit worried about my ability to communicate. I would say that most people <25>25years old do not. Some shopkeepers have a limited english vocabulary that pertains to their trade, but only enough to scam you out of some florints. As soon as I feel comfortable at least sounding out words and am able to sy things like "Do you speak English?" "How much?" and "I don't understand" I'll content myself with just enjoying the scenery.
Note: I haven't found reliable internet yet, so I don't know how often I'll be in contact. Also, I resolve to never proofread any of these posts. So there.
-Reece
The flight from Newark to Heathrowe was terrible. Right as we passed over those eastern regions of Canada, we had half-an-hour of the worst turbulence I have ever experienced. We're talking bone-rattling, stomach-churning, glass-in-cart breaking quality turbulence that went on for 25-30 minutes straight. The one redeeming part of the trip was flying into a fog-blanketed London. The fog was so thick that the lights of the city made it look like a patchwork quilt, so I wanted nothing more than to wrap my self in London and get some real sleep.
After arriving in Budapest, one of the first things I was half-jokingly told by the woman who picked me up was "Don't smile, and don't ever be nice. You are in Eastern Europe now, and we are all depressed and mean."
Hungary has an interesting history. They've been on the losing side of pretty much every war in Europe, and is conveniently located located in one of the "must have" spots for anyone trying to take over Europe. Budapest alone has been more or less completely destroyed by invaders, liberators, and floods at least four times in the past 1000 years by my count. The result is a city where the Architecture varies wildly. There isn't really anything left standing from before the neo-classical era of Hungarian Architecture, but since then Bupapest has gone through a "neo" phase for most types of buildings, so combined with the scattered, actually old buildings, the city is a bizzare mix of the old-looking, the actually old, and the painfully modern.
My apartment is very interesting. Here's a little puzzle for anyone who has read this far: I estimate my apartment to have about 1920 cubic feet of space, not including my bathroom and showerroom. I only have three pieces of furniture: my bed, my desk/chair, and my normal size dresser. Nonetheless, there is only one spot about 1sqft total in my entire apartment in which I can spread my arms and spin around without touching anything. What does my apartment look like?
I haven't explored the culture of the city very much yet, because I'm still a bit worried about my ability to communicate. I would say that most people <25>25years old do not. Some shopkeepers have a limited english vocabulary that pertains to their trade, but only enough to scam you out of some florints. As soon as I feel comfortable at least sounding out words and am able to sy things like "Do you speak English?" "How much?" and "I don't understand" I'll content myself with just enjoying the scenery.
Note: I haven't found reliable internet yet, so I don't know how often I'll be in contact. Also, I resolve to never proofread any of these posts. So there.
-Reece
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)