The sun has settled, the dark sits outside my window.
I arrived at Agnes' little farmhouse in this quaint village in the Hugarian countryside in the late afternoon, when the sun blazed before setting. I am in awe of this little house with its painted tiled floors, tiny little paintings hanging off the walls, and its rustic kitchen. A field expands behind the house and mountains - as proudly as Hungarians can call them mountains - roll against the horizon. Three tiny cats pitter patter around the house and harrass one another when they are not busy licking and biting themselves clean.
I sleep and live in one building and Agnes' sleeps and lives in another - a roof is all that connects the two together. And between these two buildings, a large green wall with a door inside, large enough to fit a horse and cart through.

Understanding, Little by Little, a Post Communist Country

My diary is sorely neglected.

I have been busy enjoying every moment while keeping up with correspondences with my friends living on the other side of the pond. Regardless. It's a poor excuse as to why I have not been blogging.

The atmosphere here in post communist Czech Republic and Hungary is well, quite post communist.

Walking around the city, you find remnants from that Socialist Era still clinging to daily life and perturbingly resting on the psyche of the people. I was surprised to find that you can get onto any part of a bus or tram without having to show your ticket. No cues for the front door, just hop on! However, there is a heavy presence of undercover ticket checkers some days that arrive in full force without notice to catch people travelling for free. Some of the populace still think that transit is for the people and should be paid for by the government.

While talking to a new friend of mine, Orsi (pronounces Orshi), about the tactics of the beggars in Prague versus Budapest, she pointed out that there is a high increase of poverty and begging in Budapest since the Socialist Era. Back then you had to work otherwise you were sent to jail. Now people don't have the initiative or the esteem to work. The beggars are quite aggressive in their tactics. From begging at a corner with a baby in arm to coming right up to you and asking for help.

A few days ago, I was walking around the city of Budapest with another new friend, Bala'zs. In the depths of our discussions he began talking about Pessimism and how it abounds among the Hungarians and that Hungarians really don't do anything for themselves, that they would rather wait for someone to do something for them. I laughed. I hadn't met any Hungarians like that, perhaps due to the fact that all the Hungarians that I have met travelled or lived outside of the country for some time. I laughed too because I had a Serbian friend who was probably more pessimistic than any Hungarian that he could show me. However, it suddenly occurred to me that this Pessimism and lack of initiative that you could see and feel in Češka and Hungary, and in my Serbian friend, was a psychological result of years and years of occupation from many powers - the Ottomans, the Hasburgs, Fascists and Communists. Suddenly, I understood my Serbian friend a little better and where she was coming from.