My friend Lindsey and I met the nicest people in Budapest. We were particularly enamored by Janos, the man who hosted us in his apartment, He may be the most hospitable person I have ever met. He said, "I'm so glad you are here; I love my city." He also drew walking routes for us to take (with alternative routes, just in case), and gave us suggestions on where to find a local spot for dinner. On this jaunt of ours, which included the great capitals of Europe, the Berlin Wall, cathedrals, clock towers, and rivers, one of my clearest memories is what Janos said to us at the breakfast table. "It's hard to fall in love in a place where everyone drives cars." He has a good point there.
At the non-touristy cafe he directed us to, I had my first mute experience....and I thought I was becoming bilingual. I walked into the restroom before we headed out, and, evidently, I sauntered through one of the open doors into the men's room (furnished with a real, live Hungarian man). Upon seeing the urinals (and his bewildered face), I backed up realizing that we could not communicate with each other. I can only say "Good afternoon" and "Thank you" in Magyar, but neither of those terms seemed appropriate, in light of the facts that it was evening and that I was not grateful. I don't really know if my vocal chords grunted or if it my gesticulations grunted silently as I backed up. Theis was the first time in my life that I could not communicate with someone using language. I wanted to say "I'm sorry, I thought THIS open door was the women's room." But, alas, no. I grunted instead. I felt as though someone had burgled the Communications Department of my mind, not even leaving greetings or articles or adverbs. My jewel-box was empty.
At the non-touristy cafe he directed us to, I had my first mute experience....and I thought I was becoming bilingual. I walked into the restroom before we headed out, and, evidently, I sauntered through one of the open doors into the men's room (furnished with a real, live Hungarian man). Upon seeing the urinals (and his bewildered face), I backed up realizing that we could not communicate with each other. I can only say "Good afternoon" and "Thank you" in Magyar, but neither of those terms seemed appropriate, in light of the facts that it was evening and that I was not grateful. I don't really know if my vocal chords grunted or if it my gesticulations grunted silently as I backed up. Theis was the first time in my life that I could not communicate with someone using language. I wanted to say "I'm sorry, I thought THIS open door was the women's room." But, alas, no. I grunted instead. I felt as though someone had burgled the Communications Department of my mind, not even leaving greetings or articles or adverbs. My jewel-box was empty.
