Though it's the middle of the night back west, I've basically said hello and good day to you fuckers. I am writing to you from my beautiful hotel lodge here in Pest. I've been quite fortunate to travel in a few European cities and worldwide since I graduated university in 400BC.
I've picked up a few phrases and customs from around the world. I don't want to give the impression that I am some aristocrat that goes into Banana Republics buying up relics and looking down my nose at the natives--but I have always had a curious mind. I like to see the tourist-y things, and I also like to chill amongst locals. I didn't really grow up that way. My provenance Chicago, was pretty segregated back in the day--still is. Now, I live in Brooklyn...it's no utopia, but it's pretty damned diverse--but I've not forgotten that feeling of being a little girl and looking at a globe and wondering "What do they do over there?"
The older I get, and the more stamps I have in my passport my goal is to become a citizen of the world.
This is my big fat opinion, but I can honestly say that traveling as a Black woman is not always an easy faire. In some places, seeing a Black face is not a big deal. But in other places you are immediately thought to be a prostitute. A thief. Or some machete wielding mad person, on some agenda bullshit. I have a dear friend, who is a respected fashion designer and professor at an institute in Kaula Lampur...she's one of the most intelligent and loving people that I know. And man, it hurts my soul when she shares with me the bullshit and blatant racism that she has to face.
Believe it or not folks, sometimes that very thing can discourage one to book a flight and seek adventures in foreign lands. Again, I am not speaking on behalf of any group--this is simply my opinion...that happens to be a fact :)
The Chinese believe that traveling nourishes the soul. I happen to agree with that. I have been here for 5 days now, and I have 2 days left before I fly back home. I'm gathering stories, and I've collected a lot of video. When I have more time, I will construct a story to share with you chronicling tales of Eastern Europe. But for now, I am so grateful for this opportunity...despite the challenges of being in a place where the language barrier is intimidating, and the gastronomy offerings are...well...I'll say difficult to be polite (for now).
I'm off to find a postal service so that I can drop postcards into the mail for some of you back home. Man I gotta tell you, sending and receiving post from the other side of the world is such a good feeling. Not everyone can afford travel due to different circumstances...but if you will allow, I will be your guide to travel and tom fuckery--world wide.
Alright kids, I'm off. But for now, a quick lesson in Hungarian! Oh don't worry, it will be easy. But trust me when I say, this language is very difficult. It's not like the base is Latin or Germanic. I don't know what it's core is...at first it sounds agressive...then you can hear the beauty. To my ear, it's a hybrid of Russian and Spanish. Still, it's hard.
But próbálok magyarul tanulni; translation "I am trying to learn Hungarian." Now it's your turn fucker!
Szia (pronouced see-yah) is an expression sort of like "ciao" in Italian. Szia can mean hello or goobye.
köszönöm (ko-so-nom) is a formal thank you.
Igen (ee-gan) is yes.
Nem (nam as in Vietnam) is no.
And here's the most IMPORTANT expression that you can learn: Szeretlek (seteck-lek)
This friends, means I love you.
And you know I do.
|Negro Boy by sculptress Anna Karpati (1923-1993)|