honfibu

I am in Budapest and I am in love with it. It's everything Paris was: old, huge, beautiful, cultured, impressive, alive; but also everything Paris couldn't quite be: cheap, friendly, dirty, soulful and expressive. Part of me wishes I'd found it sooner and found a way to spend more time here. The language is near-impossible, though.

I've been taking this portion of my trip (or should I say my life? or my summer?) to look at places where my family is from and understand a little better where I came from, in general and also more specific ways. I've thought and written about this at length but it's more appropriate for conversation and hidden entries in a notebook than it is for blogging, but this way you have an idea. I will share this, though, which I read this in the Lonely Planet guide to Hungary:
"the overall mood is one of honfibu, literally 'patriotic sorrow', but really a penchant for the blues with a sufficient amount of hope to keep most people going."