“Bai cum va vindeti voi sufletul barbatilor…

las’ ca mai bine asa decat la Kristos!”

One of my fellow colleagues at the university is a funny Californian, very American like…a big funny guy with Asian features. He’s always makin’ jokes, always smilin’, even without reason..he’s the guy that has all the premises of goin’ down.

Yesterday he was telling me:

- Oh Crisstina, but u are so nice…Did I tell u..I’ve been to Romania, worked there at the American embassy..I love Romanian girls..so smart and beautiful..just like u!

A little bit later..the same funny guy..in the kitchen(everybody had been drinkin a bit already and the talkin was goin’ great..):

- Oh wait..everybody..I wanna propose a toast…I wanna propose a toast for friendship. All of us are goin: Alright, clink-clink..let’s drink. The Nebraska fellow American next to him starts commenting : ” How cliche!”

Even a bit more later..the Californian:

-Cristina, can I have ur phone number?

- I don’t know it by hard, just bought my hungarian SIM. I’ll give to you at school.

- Are u drinking? Cause I can pour u some more wine.

- No thanks. I’m ok. Still got some.

- Come on. Drink it up so I can pour u one more.

- No thks. I’ll get drunk if I drink fast. I just wanna get dizzy.

-What’s wrong with bein’ drunk?

He just went on and on untill I could take it no more and said:

- K..the truth is..i don’t really like that wine..so pls do not me drink it..cauz i hate it.

He stopped the drinikin issue..but took out his expensive cel and:

- Oh look..ur number could be right here…gimme’ ur number!

(U can imagine I could hardly loose the chance of stickin my cheap-face number in that nice phone..and so I missed it…)

The funny Nebraska American comes out of his back again:

- Oh..he’s tryin’ to get into ur pants..how funny!

If it had been a theater play…the Nebraska guy would of been the clawn always showin up to laugh in this guy’s face, showin the dark side of things. I so enjoyed that part…

I got them out of the house and started chatting with Nebraska about the agressive manner in which Americans hit on girls. I said:  …if u come up in Ro with such lines as ‘WOULD U..’ the only thing u achieve is an enthusiastic ‘No! Go fuck urself..’

He says:

- Wel..ya.that’s what Americans do..but i’m not like other guys.

- That’s what u all say: “I am not like o-ther guys!”

- That’s what I hate about it; because of all the guys sayin’ “I am not like ..” the girls don’t believe when u actually mean it.

This could easily be transformed into a fraction with a period …an undecidable argument. Nebraska..cauz all of u are gambling on the belief coin.that’s what u get…misbelief..constant, cheap misblief.

And ya…the infinite chain of arguments. For what? For an unfinishable chain of weaknesses!

Yesterday has definetly been a day for experiments. I’m writing at such a late hour because of the consequences of this ‘oh so gloriuous’ day..

I decided the best way to shake nation-related stress outta people was to get them all together and makin’ all of them hold full glasses. The experiment was a success..in 2 hours time..I had no idea what the hell happened to my living room or the names of each one of this strange invaders. It’s always nice to articulate such an image.

So, yesterday in my living room, nations were shaking hands…not ‘The Nations’..but nations alltogether: Rusia, Romania, Israel, US, Belarus, Bulagaria, Croatia, Grece, Serbia, Hungary..ofcourse!

Two delicate mentions to this aspect..and I’ve so learned to be delicate since I’m here about such subjects:

- there were also two Hungarians from Transylvania, Romanian citizens

+ a confused Romanian citizen..who, due to the many years he spent abroad, on very intelectual-consuming studies, seems to find himself in a sort of a national identity confusion. He’s Romanian alright..but figure that I’ve only managed to find out for sure two days ago..due to the fact that he’s such a good fake American. May the American God bless him then….

I was talkin’ to him yesterday…about smokes..cauz he’s been in the Netherlands for some time..and he tells me:

- Well, u can imagine..i smoked there..but i wouldn’t smoke in Romania..I don’t know, I just feel soo in-cri-mi-na-ted!

No kidding! What were u gonna do? Light up a smoke with a bunch from The Orthodox Youth Association?

Afterwards, he asks me:

 - But here…have u tried it here? Did u ask anybody?

:))))))) Again! What was I gonna do? Stand up in the first day of school in the Auditorium and speak up for a good cause:

- Hey..don’t know u yet..but any junkies in here?

Next funny thing on yesterday’s temporal map. Some thoughtful guys had an idea to throw a welcome party for the foreign students. So…all of CEU was there yesterday + all the exchange students in Budapest. They were trying to make u feel welcome in such a stylish manner that they sticked numbers on you when u entered the club. The guys had blue numbers, the girls..red. Foreigners are so concerned of our well-bein’ that they’re trying match-makin on the first week. Ofcourse..due to this weird method..more funny things still happened. An American girl, quite American, was runnin’ around the disco in a mini-skirt, high heel boots and a top without shoulders that made her bossom almost fall out:

-Hi? Are u 73? U’re not? Who is 73? That’s my match!

I’m sure she married the guy by dawn..at least in the least formal of all ways.

(perhaps it was not’73′.but who counts? )

The boys were teasing me:

- Aren’t u going to find ur match?

I said:

- No, I just wanna drink. I’m tired. Already found a few of them in the past…

Azi vorbeam despre Romania cu un coleg de facultate ungur. Imi spune ca ar vrea foarte mult sa vada Carpatii. Dupa care…intrebarea zilei, peste sticle de bere:

- Couldn’t you give one back? Just one? Because we miss the mountains….

Jur ca din tonul lui glumet nu a reiesit decat una dintre cele mai triste mine pe care le-am vazut vreodata. Si romanii pot cauza umilinta.

Nu am putut sa ii raspund si nimeni nu a mai vb cateva secunde…lumea a tinut un moment de reculegere pt marsavii fara vinovati si pt inechitate.

Prima zi de scoala in Budapesta..tough time. Pt. o prima zi care nu trebuia sa fie altceva decat o alta zi de vacanta, din care se fura 10 min, aceasta zi s-a transformat intr-un calvar.

O cladire insuportabil de intortocheata, unde nici sttuff-ul nu cunoaste bine culoarele si lifturile(cladire veche de trei etaje in a carei curte interioara s-a construit un turn de 10..u can simply imagine).

Am intarziat juma  de ora. O sala de 45 de oameni, plus 4 profesori s-au holbat si au spus cat se poate de suav:

- Hi there….:)

- Hi, hi…hai sa sprijin si eu un perete aici langa voi daca tot am intarziat ..ca loc evident nu am.

Colegi multicolori..cea mai tare aparitie: doi americani…pun pariu ca au devenit brusc axis mulier mundi. O merita!:))

Intotdeauna inceputurile astea, prin simplul fapt ca sunt inceputuri..si prin definitie sunt straine de lumea ta..asa cum o stiai pana acum, iti imprima un sentiment de ‘ugly duck’.

Te plimbi intr-un mediu filled up cu entuziasm international, studiezi alaturi de fellow americans, treci cu vederea peste notebookurile Apple dupa care iti lasa gura apa, juri sa nu scoti nicioadata hp-ul de 3 kile la lumina!

Faci un curs de orientare pentru o biblioteca ca Enterprise din Star Treck. Incerci sa afisezi un aer degajat, cool si inauntru iti rozi limba cu caninul de suparare pt ca unghiile sunt la vedere.

Scapi din sala aia cu oamenii aia interesati, bine imbracati, degajati si destepti. Iesi afara sa rasufli usurat, pipand o tigara, dupa 2 ore, la usa faultatii. Pe usa ies doi colegi americani care se uita la tzigara ta ca la drequ(yeah..well, sorry guys..it ain’t marijuana!).

Te decizi ca nu mai rezisti presiunii si zilei lungi..ca atare intri in primul bar si spui ca doar de data asta vei mai da 3 euro pe o cafea buna si o apa minerala….Categoric nu va fi ultima(dezavantajul de a avea faculta in zona turistica).

Sfarsesti ziua cu o rataceala de o ora prin Pesta in cautarea disperata a statiei autobuzului 72(pt orasul asta..orice harta e incompleta!). O gasesti intr-un final spre 10 noaptea, cand picioarele te dor de mori deja, te urci fericit si mai astepti 10 min(tu si autobuzul), pana se strang vagabonzii orasului care vor sa prinda ultimul bus spre casa si sa paraseasca zona de basm a centrului din Pesta.

Vitrinele trec una cate una, fiecare cu mai putine becuri si culori in drum spre casa, pana cand, intr-un final dispar cu totul….si dupa inca trei etaje, intr-un final,,pot spune…i am home! Maine ma trezesc la 7 ca sa fiu, din nou, la 8, in drum spre Scoala.

Acest post va incepe seria  scripturilor budapestane. Ma asteptam sa fie un post colorat si exploziv, un foc de artificii. Ei nu…nici chiar asa…oricum, din toate impresiile nu a ramas decat un tril amarat de om ratacit…si nu ma gandesc la harta propriu-zis cu rataceala, mai mult la topos, la ansamblu..naiba stie.

Ieri seara mi-am adus bagajele intr-o camera alba, imaculata. Totul..dulapul, lampile…totul este alb. Nu suport albul asta spitalicesc, chirurgical..albul este atat de gol pe dinauntru cand nu ai cu ce sa il umpli. Tot timpul m-am gandit ca in camerele albe stau oameni plini, oameni extatici..oameni care sunt atat de preocupati si fulfilled incat nu au timp pur si simplu pt culoare..nu au timp sa o observe, nu au timp sa o aleaga…nu au chef si nici nevoie de combinatii, de cromatica; pt ei…mediul este un pur auxiliar. Din aceasta cauza, albul este prin desavarsire utilitar. Albul este fondul, albul este un mediu de observatie..albul este receptacul.

Poate albul ar fi fost salvat daca medicna ar fi abuzat de oricare alta culoare. Sigur…putin din alb restituie iarna…dar de ce oare tot timpul iarna este anotimpul esentzelor tari? Alcool tare..tzuici fierte, vodka; culori tari…rosu si verde predominant; mirosuri tari..scortisoara si brad. Iarna albul concentreaza si coaguleaza. Iarna ne adunam ca sa nu ne pierdem sau pur si simplu ca sa nu fim pierduti.

Am parasit terapia alba pe la 10.30 noaptea. Am iesit pe strada sa cunosc cartierul. Am cumparat mancare chinezeasca si am stat cu caserola in brate la 11 noaptea in parc pe o banca uitandu-ma la niste oameni fericiti care jucau fotbal pe un teren inchiriat in nocturna. Am comentat meciul in romaneste cu colegul meu de apartament; m-am bucurat de momente d’astea simple si brusc m-a apukat ciuda…ca acasa..oamenii parca nu erau niciodata atat de simpli si fericiti. Aici asa zisa clasa de mijloc se bucura zilnic de asa ceva, acasa ..tre sa fii un pic mai mult decat putin avut ca sa te bucuri de asa ceva …asta daca ai unde..evident. Acasa nu exista terenuri de inchiriat in parcuri de cartier…si nici oameni obositi care sa stea pe margine la 11 noaptea mancand, band si razand. Eh…simple kind of life s high livin’…u never have what it takes to actually get it. Unii nu au banii, altii nu au peace of mind.