Tuesday 15 March 2011

15th March

This afternoon once again I had the opportunity to watch someone drifting out of consciousness. Although if I am honest I of course have to admit that he wasn’t exactly drifting out only but also drifting into another one, into dream world. And it was a real pleasure to watch. I think in many routine, daily rituals I have forgotten to appreciate their beauty and use the occasion to move on, do something else while… but every now and again it is nice to anchor back to the reality of that other person.

Ernest used to go to sleep on his own, even for day naps. He now proudly walks off to bed in the evenings and changes his mind only once or twice banging on the door. Day-aps at home are different. Once he gets really tired he would prefer to lie down on my lap, his legs tucked under my arms, his head balanced between my knees not quite rolling of either side, not quite hanging down but not resting particularly stable either. He used to be more relaxed about the posture but his recent experience with the Hungarian Health Care system (HNHS) made him a bit more fixated on these details. He would fall asleep like this while I read the papers (this would be news portals on the net), read some other article on the computer or perhaps play a game.

I watched him drift away to dream world today. Perhaps recent experience called me to pay more attention, don’t know, it could also be a case of Jen using the computer and I couldn’t be bothered to reach for a book.

In the morning, we were still in bed, just resting, relaxing, contemplating if we should get out of bed at all. It was the last morning before Lili is coming home, school starts and everything is back to normal. Ernest have been up for some time. He was hungry so I have provided him with some snacks. He kept bashing bread into our faces demanding we share his food. Eventually he got it, we weren’t hungry and it pissed him off so much he threw the whole thing in the corner. Than he sat down and pulled his socks off with a face ‘you called for this!’

He knows we prefer him to have socks on, it’s a bit cold for the feet otherwise. So he wanted to hurt us by removing them. But he is a very organised and decent rebel because after taking his sock off he carefully put them back in his clothes cupboard making sure they are easy to find for later use (once they feet will start getting cold).

But I was going to write about the big pompous celebration today. Some 150something years ago there was some kind of a revolution – there have been a whole bunch of them around Europe that year – which in Hungary turned to be longer war. The canon says it’s an independence war but I consider it more a civil war. (of course my perception is not that of the nation state, after all I look at WW1 as primarily not in inter-state but an intra-state war, a civil war as well between different classes within given societies)

It’s a big thing! People walk about with the tricolour pinned to their chest all day, some even does it for days before. I have quit doing it 16 years ago, my motivation wasn’t that of the conformist ‘don’t get into politics’.

But it’s a big day, even the prime minister has given a speech, and they say he really pulled out all the stop. Apparently he told the European commission to go and f#”k themselves, although he may have used slightly different wording. I bet you he enjoys all the pompous nonsense. He believes in some crazy stuff, they have a lot to share with Cameron. I couldn’t decide which one of them I would prefer. Probable neither.

Lili asked me today what do people celebrate. I had difficulties answering. It’s a ritual of the state to craft and make-believe an imagined community in order to get people to do things in the name of and for this imagined community that otherwise they wouldn’t do in their right mind. She claimed she understood. We went to the park then.

Yesterday, when I saw the communist party gathering on the square I wanted to ask them how can they match communism with displays of nationalism. It’s a question that could have been asked of those regimes this party is a remnant of. But I didn’t ask.

Monday 14 March 2011

March 14th

Recently I have been getting some kindly placed feedbacks that sound something like this ’reading nice life in Szeged is good...’ And accustoming myself with the stats page on blogger I realise it is true, people do like to read fun stuff, not so much not so fun stuff and politics definitely puts many of you off. It has been a difficult week and there have been some difficult experiences. There is politics and considering tomorrow’s pompous display of central European nationalism to come…
But lets not get ahead of ourselves.

We put Lili on the train on Saturday afternoon with some classmates of Jen, my sister was waiting for her on the other end. She is spending a four days long weekend at my mother’s. Just as well, the rest of us aren’t the greatest company. I wouldn’t go into Ernest’s case now, that is for another time but I got ill too on Saturday although I managed to sleep it out within a day and Jen has fallen ill as well. It seems we picked up the bad stuff somewhere along the way.

Still recovering but letting Jen have a rest Ernest and I went for a walk yesterday afternoon. Only a week ago it was around minus 10 in the mornings and we were happy if it was above zero in the afternoon now it gets up to 20 on the sun during the day. Even easy-going fellows like us are still perceptible to put on too much clothes when going out.

After the park Ernest decided on going to our regular café but now sitting on the terrace. On the street down at the end of the square an ambulance screamed by. It was the ‘new born special unit’. I had to fight off my tears. I was still in a messed up state.

After leaving our regular café we started walking home walking by the other café, on the corner which I just call ‘the café on the corner’ although it has a ‘proper’ name too. The terrace was full and the waiter was not so gently trying to help a man away from a table, I noticed it only a moment before the man toppled over the waiter and fell on the ground so I couldn’t have told if there was any ‘grievance’ between them or it was a genuine accident. He fell hitting his head on the stone, the waiter walked away hurriedly.

Shocked instantly, with Ernest sitting on my arm I was the first one trying to help, he was lying on his back. Only had time to try to see if he could understand/hear me and wonder for a moment why am I the only one there, how will I turn him on his side as he was losing consciousness. Fortunately a paediatrician – as I later found out talking to her – came and helped me with the move and as the waiter was coming back around, delivering orders and taking new ones we asked him if they have called the ambulance yet? ‘ah, no.’ he said ‘we called the cops’. The two of us practically yelled at him to call an ambulance.

I could do nothing more but I was shaken. I stood around, clinging to Ernest, feeling weird. I’ve never been looking into to eyes of someone who was slowly drifting out of consciousness. I watched the waiter. He was working, he was stressed, he was stressed already with work and he was stressed for what has happened. Eventually the paediatrician told him to wait for the ambulance where the fallen person was (she was rude, not gentle in her request, she was right although the manager of the café was nowhere to be seen to take charge). When the ambulance came he rushed back to work. The terrace has at least 50 tables, a busy day, only the two waiters.

I went into the café and told the manager to give the guy a break, he most certainly needs it. The manager just looked at me with big eyes, unable to understand what my problem might be. I walked off.

A brave new world it. On a Sunday afternoon a man falls on the street and the person who has been the closest to him when this happens, I am convinced an accident, does not have time to stop, think, help. I am sure the customers could have waited ten minutes. I am sure, I want to be sure. But no, he didn’t have the time, perhaps he didn’t have the will either. Maybe he knows this drunk, not paying for his bills, he has had enough. Maybe he pushed him a bit.

There was an atmosphere at the ‘place on the corner’s terrace. As if that man has not deserved empathy for he didn’t belong there, he shouldn’t have come there, a semi-homeless drunk and crazy Christian whit his silly little gypsy blessings written on scraps of papers. He deserved his faith…

Ernest and I went out for a walk again today. I wanted to go for a walk while he was asleep in the morning but since his recent sleepovers he wasn’t so keen. He heard me quietly getting ready and I could not go undetected. So we went together. More or less the usual route. We had cheesy treats today instead of the ginger biscuits.
We also saw the local communist party gathering for the pompous nationalist celebration. (more on that tomorrow). And we met him. He was there, with the communists. But then he seemed to have gotten bored of them and walked off. I approached him and we had a chat. Through me he now knows how he ended up in accident and emergency. I appreciated the blessing even if… but let’s not have a discussion on believes. ‘do take care of yourself!’

empathy

Wednesday 9 March 2011

March 9th

Spring cleaning. It's spring now. Of course locals don't quite call it a spring when it's regularly around minus ten in the mornings but we know better. I got an urge to spring clean. Maybe it has nothing to do with spring but the regular cleaning and tidying just cannot go on any longer. All the corners are full with clutter that is regularly or at some point some time ago has been shoved there so when we try to shove things away they just instantly flow back out. Lili's desk is like that, we clear and clean it sometimes than agree that she shall tidy away what she works on and with after finishing, for it is impossible to keep Everything there. Then things start to gather till only a very tiny worm or caterpillar could just wriggle there a little.

Yesterday I had a go at their room and now the desk is clean. Finally it is ok for Ernest to work there too and he does love it. While Liliom is in school we gather some paper and very nicely play with the felt pens. I am surprised how long he manages to play 'nice', putting the tips back on and the pens back in their holders. I think soon grandparents and other volunteers can start receiving sophisticated pictures from Ernes. Lili really liked the one I put up in the kitchen today, she liked the colour coordination.

In the afternoon when everyone was at home already I was in the kitchen while Ernest in the kid's room was drawing at the desk. Lili was reading. And Jen in the kitchen too when Ernest started shouting 'Apa, apa...' didn't stop. It turned out one of the lids fell on the floor and he needed help, someone to pick it up for him! He by the way also said Mum today. Lookin at one of Lili’s drawing he almost said cat, ‘cica’ but bother only with the second syllables. He might turn out a mumbler like the rest of us.

Liliom wasn’t so keen on Ernest enjoying some drawing at Her desk. And the two of them cannot really handle it together. I think they both think that the other is just an extension of their own will and it is unbearable and unprocesseable to realise that it isn’t so.


I have been having a somewhat moody day. Had a nice day, yet, I feel a bit unexplainably not so good. Perhaps worried about something although we finally managed to get access to our bank account so we can re-engage with the money system. Yet there is still something. I spend a lot of time with Ernest and as he is not quite well (some diarrhea) I have plenty of time to worry about him. probably that's it. Or maybe somehting else. Can't quite put my figner on it. It's a shame though. Maybe it is just a lack of sleep and rest when spring is coming ( so I sit up blogging). I wanna do a spring cleaning, hang out with the kids all day, do a couple of online course and about a dozen other things. Silly. Anyways, I sit in a café while Liliom was in her ballet class and Jen prepped dinner with Ernest. Started reading a book.

I got through reading much of the introduction of a book collection of existentialist writings. The book was published in 1966 in 'communist' Hungary. It eagerly provides a Marxist analysis and critique of existentialism explaining in detail how it is nothing but another example of the crisis of capitalist societies and a half-hearted reaction to the imperialist expansionism of capitalist states, to the fight for hegemony in the international system.

The critique however seems to forget to maintain its own Marxist analysis and critique. But of course in '66 free speech was even more an issue in Hungary than nowadays. Or actually less an issue as there was not much to go around. Anyways, the Marxist criticism of the so called Marxist reality of the revolution would be that the personal cults were not the only immoral, damaging, unnecessary and false aspects of these regimes. After all 60s Hungary was also playing, and playing big time on nationalism, proto-fascist militarism and bourgeois greed. Besides, the so called communist countries while had a degree of barter system at the end they were also integrated within the international state system, an inherently capitalist system and they were also engaged in the same game of hegemony and imperialist expansionism as those evil capitalists.

Funnily the editor of the book, writing the introductory analysis seemed to have difficulties placing some French fellows, Camus and Sartre who happened to be more or less Marxist themselves, Sartre convicted that existentialism was merely a critical development of Marxism, arguing similarly to Guevara (yes, that guy with the same first name as Hemingway) that drinking milk these days doesn't require one to declare himself to be a Pasteurian
, it's just simply how it is now, thus Marxist analysis isn't 'an' alternative to capitalism for instance, just this is how it is and would be foolish and inconsistent to think otherwise. (or something like that, can be googled). Camus was probably a syndicalist and few get more communist than them.

Have you noticed my amasing list of tags?!
Jen thinks they are stupid

Tuesday 8 March 2011

March 8th

It's international women's day today. Jen gives it a different name but I am too modest to type it. Apparently I should have been blogging in Victorian times. It's funny though that there are such things as this day. I think so long as there is an international day for women we don't even have to wonder 'are we equal'. The answer is given.

I may have forgotten to mention about the flash mob some weeks ago. It was the first ever flashmob i have ever been to. And so far the last one but that is not the fm's fault. Simply there hasn't been another one since. So I am converted, yet, it was a pretty rubbish one, still I had been a lot more cheerful after it was finished, on a particularly moody day. The whole point of the fm actually is the cats who live on the ceiling.

As part of the activity we were prompted to point at the sky as if there was something amazing up there and be totally amused by it for a while. That was the part that Ernest really got into. Ever since he engages in the occasional pointing up and being amused here and there. When he did it at home the first time, pointing at the ceiling, being amused he made the connection. It's an Ernest thing, anything amusing goes 'meow'. So there are cats who live on the ceiling.

Today I invited one of them to come down for a wee while and she did. They are some small breed of cats so a comfortable fit in my palm and she purred away happily when I pat her back. We went over to Ernest and he had a go stroking the cat, it even went over into his palm. So i guess it was a particularly small breed of cats but hey, they live on ceilings. We were most amused. Every body joined in and taking turns we all enjoyed playing with the little creature until about some 37 seconds later Ernest realised that at this age this is how far his brain is willing to go on this. Never the less, I am happy, I was missing our friends (imaginary) of late and since Lili became all so not into imagining imaginary tings it's a lot harder to keep their company. Maybe for another few years she can be dragged back to it and I is going to be just that much better now; the four of us imagining things together.

One more thing on looking up in amusement. At our local food store above the vegetable aisle there is a rather large air-conditioning vent. Liliom is most amused by it. I discovered that whenever she remembers to look up when we are there she just cannot take her eyes of it, completely tranced.

She has been giving me some hugs this evening and at first I couldn’t imagine what is the sudden urge for the display of affection and love. Than I realised that just minutes before I have been recounting to Jen the conversations at parents' evening in school. I guess she must have overheard (ha-ha! Listening intently to) the part where I was bragging about how clever my daughter is.

Apparently her teachers find it amusing that now whenever, wherever she meets the English teacher, she automatically converses in English.