(author’s note: this article was in response to a couple of emails I received from invisible Hungarians, and particularly, a hand-written letter with no signature or return address which delivered to the Budapest Times in the middle of the night, suggesting, rather unpleasantly that I should leave. Prior to the last election, Jobbik, the far right, racist and reactionary political party were particularly vocal and visible. They even had their own little uniformed army, “Magyar Guard” looking ever-so-much like Hitler’s Brown Shirts, although these fashion-forward thugs dressed in black. They have subsequently been outlawed.)

I love going to places I know little or nothing about. It helps me remain optimistic. And the Hungarian definition of an optimist? “A person who is ill-informed.” It was a perfect fit.

Work and wanderlust has taken me to live in many cities. New York. Chicago. Atlanta. Dallas. Los Angeles and Toronto. But it wasn’t work that brought me to Budapest, nor was it family. I’m a Canadian of mostly English descent and the English just don’t do families all that well. They’re the ones who gave us “Children should be seen and not heard”. There are some who believe they should be neither.

I fit in quite well in New York and, if you’re familiar with the New Yorker persona, you might be tempted to refer to me through a slang reference to a certain part of the human anatomy. Don’t resist temptation. You’re right. I am.

Fatal attraction

Initially what brought me to Budapest could be summed up as simply as fate. What moved me here, besides wanderlust, could be summed up as fatal attraction. After all, this is not the place to come looking to buy or sell optimism.

So what is it with this place? For those of us who don’t aren’t here for work, who hold bona-fide foreign passports and who have no family ties here, why would we choose Budapest?

Well, the first thing we can rule out is the economy.

The weather is a close second (although coming from Canada, February’s here can seem tropical by comparison).

The architecture is quite stunning, especially when one compares it to places like Toronto where much of the architecture is eerily similar to some of the aesthetic monstrosities that built here during the communist era. But there is stunning architecture in many cities throughout Europe.

I like the food here but my wife is vegetarian, so that creates challenges.

What else? Let’s see. Health care? I’m fairly familiar with that sector so perhaps we should leave that to another article. Suffice to say, it’s not a reason to move here.

Good Magyar. Bad Magyar.

What’s left?

The people?

On the metro not long ago I watched a young man, walking with a white cane and another young man at his arm. They were chatting as they got on the train, smiling, laughing; what seemed like normal chat between friends.

I looked up two stops later and the young blind man was alone. I assumed his friend got off at another stop but I thought it was a little weird. At the next station, he got off the train, feeling his way with his cane. A woman who was sitting in the same car also got off. As the train doors closed, I watched them through the window as she came up beside him, took him by the arm, and they began to chat, smiling with the body language of banter between friends.

That would probably not happen in New York, Chicago, Atlanta, Dallas, Los Angeles or Toronto. At least not from what I saw while living there. Unsolicited assistance could be too easily branded as politically incorrect. People aren’t blind, they are visually impaired and are quite capable of looking after themselves. To offer unsolicited assistance could be construed as demeaning.

However, Hungarians don’t have a monopoly on random acts of kindness anymore than they hold a monopoly on misery, despite what some tell you. Yet as polite as many Hungarians are, many can be quite prejudiced. Coming from the world’s most multicultural city, Toronto, it’s interesting to be on the receiving end of it. In a couple of small stores where we shop for food, there are some young Hungarian men who glare at us with blatant hatred in their eyes. In North America, we saw prejudice based solely on skin colour. Here it seems more highly refined.

Misery loves company

Then there’s culture.

Budapest is a highly cultured society where the arts seem integrated and part of day-to-day life. There are statues and artwork everywhere you turn, the opera and theatres are full. They are not the “extra curricular activities” they seem to be in many western societies.

So why are we here?

A city has a soul. As intangible as it is to quantify, it’s made up of its history, its culture, its people and yes, even its government. And what souls give us the most texture and depth?

Why, tortured souls, of course.