Some Kind of Hun Territorial Thing

Hello again,

This post is not for the delicate-minded in my audience, so be forewarned. I would also like to go on record as saying this post in no way is a slam on Hungary or the Hungarian people. It's my attempt to make light of a situation that, as a foreigner, I am having a little trouble coming to terms with. I will explain the title later.

Are you one of those people for whom smells play a big role? Do you know how the people you love smell, how the places you love smell? Do some smells send you back to a time or place in your past, just like that, as if somebody had waved a magic wand?

I had been here about two weeks when I decided what my neighborhood smells like. It smells like cheap vodka, stagnant water, dog urine, and, hold on, human urine. No denying it. And the more I trek around this city, the stronger that smell seems to get. When I went to Esztergom I thought it wouldn't smell so bad. I thought, "Budapest is a big city, there are a lot of homeless people." Oh no, Budapest smells like roses compared to Esztergom.

I hate to come in as a foreigner and start criticizing. This is not my country, and I don't know why things are the way they are, and who am I to say it's good or bad? But, as an American with a sensitive nose, believe me, it's bad.

I started to wonder why, when I only see homeless Gypsies in the park peeing in the bushes, the entire city smells like urine. Well, maybe I shouldn't have been so eager for an answer, because in the last two days, it's become abundantly clear to me that I have simply been looking the other way while a glaring  breach of what I would call decency is going on right before my eyes.

Yesterday I was walking down Kiraly, and this man got off his bike, whipped it out, and just starting peeing, on a busy street, with cars driving by, buses whizzing along, people strolling with their dogs and children. I thought, "Is this man exposing himself or just taking a piss?" I just kept walking as if I didn't see anything at all. But believe me, I did.

I thought surely this is an isolated incident, but then you won't believe what happened to me today. I went out this morning for a walk and to get a cup of coffee, and when I opened the door to my apartment building, I interrupted a woman who was squatting ON MY DOORSTEP, using the bathroom. I do not mean a homeless Roma woman.  I mean an older middle aged woman, wearing nice clothes, carrying a nice purse, just squatting on MY FRONT STEPS, relieving herself. She jumped up, and, tossing her Kleenex down into the pile she'd left behind, started to run down the street with her pants pulled down, attempting to hike them up as she glared at me in what was obviously extreme anger for interrupting her outdoor bathroom session. I will admit, I was appalled. I mean, a man, a street corner, it's not great but it's a little more foreseeable, is that the word I want? But to see a woman with her pants pulled down, on a busy city street, in a NICE neighborhood, oh, I felt like I'd seen it all. And I'm still mad she chose my apartment building doorstep to do this on.

I walked all over the city today, and I became more and more aware of the puddles that don't seem to originate anywhere in particular. They aren't caused by a drain discharging rooftop water or an air conditioning window unit dripping, they are just isolated puddles. For the first time it became very apparent what they are, and I was daintily sidestepping them in my flip-flop-clad feed like a cat skirting a puddle. And every time I'd round a corner and that SMELL would waft over me in the hot summer air, I just longed for Pamlico County and the fresh smell of that big oak tree in the backyard.

When I went to Central America I got really sick when I was there. I loved the countries I visited and the way they smelled, but the day I left I remember thinking that El Salvador smelled like onions, and cumin, and human sweat, and fires burning, and that as much as I had enjoyed the smell, with my stomach weakened by Cipro and anti-parasite medication, I would be happy to get home and smell the smell of my apartment. Can I just say I'd be happy right now if somebody had bottled up the smell of El Salvador. I'd wear it like a perfume proudly. Anything but the smell of urine.

The funny thing, my friend told me that it's against the law for dogs to poop in the street without you picking it up, but that nobody pays any attention to the law. I told him, how do they expect the people to learn to pick up after the dogs when the people are making a bigger mess than the animals? Oh goodness.

I hope nobody reading this post decides against visiting Hungary. I firmly believe we all need to see how the other half lives, and I'm sure there are reasons why this goes on. It's a beautiful country, and I certainly don't mean to imply you can't go ANYWHERE without smelling it, but sometimes it sure seems that way.

And no, I'm not supplying any pictures for this post. You might not tune in again if I did.

Oh, and the title. I told Jimmy about it today when we skyped and he said, "What, is that some kind of Hun territorial thing, pissing in the road." Jimmy, it very well might be. The Hungarians would be loath to admit any connection to the Huns. They are Magyars, not Huns. But I think there might be a little Hun in there somewhere.

Until next time. . .