Gabi's Narnia

The helper is there when you climb

Upon the invitation of the Hungarian Association of Mountain Climbers Doug Scott gave a presentation titled Himalaya Alpine Style here in Budapest last Monday. The mind-blowing pictures he projected on the university lecture hall's screen had double effect on me. One was the natural adrenaline increase  someone feels when re-visiting memories and although Kilimanjaro could never equal to K2 or Ogre or Mount Everest, the memories of my own adrenaline adventure came rushing back... and that led to the second portion... a craving for more adventure, more adrenaline rush and the desire and greater willingness to take risks!

Doug shared about the times when mountain climbing wasn't all about the proper equipment that makes it possible for safety-freaks to go and climb mountains relying heavily on technology... But it was truly more common to take risks even in the ordinary spheres of life and climbers e.g. didn't sue National Parks when accidents happened as he referred to a weirdo in Ozzie land who was publicly humiliated by his fellow climbers for such a legal action.

I felt an urge to go and conquer newer heights, not that almost 6000m (19.341 feet) wouldn't be enough, but for the sake of satisfying a deep hunger for adventure in my soul. All this in full awareness of the fact that I am one of the most adventurous and boldest people I know!

The squirming never ceased during the two-an-a-half-hour-presentation, but I learned about a certain phenomenon I had not previously known about and which deserves some attention. It has to do with symptoms that manifest usually above 8000m... allegedly when someone experiences hypoxia, there is a great chance for hallucination. Many climbers report about a THIRD person (when climbing in couples) or ANOTHER person who is there with the climbers. This person gives good advice, encourages people and is always helpful. Always. Wonder whether God's love for high places wouldn't qualify this THIRD person as the Holy Spirit. Of course for me it is His person... and it's really amazing to hear such a precise description of the third person of the Trinity in reference to mountain climbing!

Climbers of great heights, once again, report something extremely interesting. In those elevations they claim as if a 6th sense would open up and they are able to see themselves extra-body... I mean they somehow leave their body and they give direction to their very person where to step, how to walk, how to avoid danger. They see themselves from above, see very clearly to many-many miles away and they have full assurance that they are part of something far bigger than themselves and they feel something extraordinary that could be described as unity with creation or harmonious embedding into the world and peace. Huge peace. Now, let me ask once again... doesn't that remind us of something else?!?! :) For me this is pretty much God's Kingdom and as God has manifested himself in Nature and as I have referred to that, in High Places... let me just suffice to say that the biggest miracle for me is if a climber doesn't fall in love with the Creator of such beauty. I would have never thought such things happened to climbers although they sound very reasonable. If you think selfish ego is manifested in this climber... well, the tide has turned and he is using his fame to collect money for building schools and nurseries, hospitals in the poor country of Nepal. He praised the sherpas and the porters... and as you can recall that was a major message I came home with from Tanzania... that without James I wouldn't have made it and I'm so happy to have carried my stuff myself, because it's modern day slavery what these men are doing for the sake of rich "Western" tourists... It's deeply humiliating and sobering.

Decapitating the monster

Have you ever typed so much that you start mixing up words? Not the kind with a mistake here or there, but when you want to write flower and your fingers punch tweed just because your brain is either lagging behind or running ahead?
Anyway, I hope Mr. Lengyel really wins with his script and it's going to be made into a movie... partly because Ági helped me so much and she deserves the best seat at the premiere! No, I didn't send it to Scott whom I consider one of the most literary savvy man who is also familiar with medieval terms...  Ági made a careless offer that I exploited to the fullest... Now, the script is gone, at least for a week or so, then a final check and I will never ever again take a translation job that has to do with sacrilege, tribunal, sexual deviance, torturing etc. At least this is what I'm saying now. Gosh, I want to go running, swimming, meeting with my friends and get a very very very very good massage... And finally sleep at proper times... And get back to blogging properly... let's see :)

Bible in 3 months??? Yeah!!!

I figured out how I'm going to make the whole Bible in three months... No, no reading, I usually chew on the words, then check an encyclopedia and also remember to read some relating passages... that won't work. The shortest time I could read the Bible from cover to cover was 1.5 years...
But yesterday I found a Bibbia page (Italian) where either through iTunes or maybe even through some download I will be able to follow along in my almost identical version. (La Nuova Diodati) That way it might be possible to kill two birds with one stone. 1, will actually go through the whole bible 2, will read, ok "follow" through the Italian bible much before than I expected! Afterwards there are only three languages left :) And I'll be almost halfway through my plan for life :) (read the Bible cover to cover in Hungarian, English, Italian, German, Russian and Hebrew)

Can't believe my eyes...

For one reason or another I haven't checked the exchange rate for the US dollar in the last couple of month. Anyway, in Europe it's mostly Euro that we use.
Because of some prospective trips I was confined to do some calculations and look what I found... I couldn't believe my eyes!!! 8 years ago to the date the American dollar was worth 270 Forints and now it is only 159 Forints! Gosh, and it used to be even higher! I can recall 330 HUF/USD rates which means a 50% drop in the standard of living for people spending dollars in my country.
We won't have that many shouting American tourists walking around in their trainers this summer at least! (I do have prejudices after all) I feel sorry for anyone who is not a shouting American and who can walk more than 30 minutes every day without experiencing near-heart attack symptoms!
Yes, it it and was expected and I am fully aware of the economic and socio-political course of events and implications, but I wanted to take a moment and think about the ordinary day of a family, may it be missionary or a businessman whose money is tied to this plunging currency.
Wonder why I don't hear more fussing on the American companies' part... repatriating profits might not be worth at all!

Wellness in&out

Before diving into the translation job I have been postponing for weeks now this weekend was a real treat with excellent home-made food, great quilting club experience (where the ladies don't smash each other in the face verbally and emotionally) and ultimately the great fitness and spa centre situated in the gorgeous tiny city of Gyula, South-East Hungary.
It was relaxing and refreshing to indulge in the services offered... jacuzzi  lying, jacuzzi sitting, sauna, hot tub, cold tub, stream water, beach bed... and it was a real surprise to find there a man who could "manage" and make me confront with some prevalent feminine traits... and to enjoy great Baileys coffee at the 100 years old pastry shop and the conversation with Pálma, while Zsuzsi and Christina stayed back for some afternoon nap. Wow, these are rare moments of full relaxation...
We also discussed some very vital questions about ministry and calling. The way we are supposed to live our faith and be light to the world. A cell group where one can be totally vulnerable. The way someone lives his/her life in purity... What that entails and other deep issues of the heart. I'm rich to be able to belong to such friends!

Hungarian football is as famous as in '53

You might know what I'm referring to by the 6:3 in 1953. Well, not a match, but a goal of tantamount fame is spreading like fire across the global press. Namely this:

German here English here 3 various uploads on Youtube here.

Off: you can be Joshua Bell playing a Kreisler, still no one would care... at the tube entrance... being out of context.

The extreme right is put to shame

Jews are said to be standing together. It wasn't only Jews, but conservative politicians, public figures, artists, historians, TV celebs etc. who were present at the anti-Nazi peaceful protest yesterday afternoon.
If you are interested in videos/pictures click here. Pestiside says it here. It is amazing that extremists were outnumbered in far greater numbers than anyone had anticipated. Gosh, am I becoming a real activist or what? I prayed a lot, mostly in tongues.

Off: And I'm dancing around... for this...and of course for that of yesterday's... a velvet ethereal caressing. The power of music keeps me thrilled and in awe.

Escapism

Yes, I want to ignore the coalition crisis, the Budapest Public Transportation* company's strike (all of Budapest will finally get a glimpse of what it's like in London or New York and hopefully stop complaining about it* for good). The flash mob of the Hungarian extreme right is getting under my skin, but it's not group fight I'd like to be part of tomorrow, rather proper procedures.

So instead of any of the above, I decided to get mesmerised with Raichel Idan's angelic voice and face. Idan is someone you could place in the room and listen to all night long. The latter is what I'm engrossed in, instead of finishing up a business translation... It's music for making babies, as we call in the family. Relaxing, enriching, enchanting.

Double Marathon

Some of you have already heard about my desire to run the Budapest Marathon this year. Well, don't ask about preparations for that yet, but in the meanwhile sth extremely interesting landed in my inbox.

Namely... Bible Marathon
What an extra blessing to see the Arabic there! More down below! Just a short note. I paused for a second to think whether it's only this Marathon I should pursue... but (for now) just as with Kilimanjaro, the spiritual and the physical were hand in hands. :)

Visa... piece of cake

Applying for a visa has never been easier. That means the probability of g ever stepping onto Australian soil is ever increasing. But to have a Jewish connection even in this regard?!? God is full of surprises! (Would still appreciate prayers that the visa would be granted. Ultimately it's not application only what matters ;)

Father's girl

As an only child, it wasn't the most girlish thing to have my Dad as a father. He is a Jack of all trades and that left its mark on me. Yes, Mom did lady-like knitting/sewing/embroidery, so I shouldn't disregard her influence either.
If it was about dolls, I was only interested in sewing clothes for the dolls. Instead of regular Barbie-time climbing trees, commanding my friends as the chief (Indian or what) and devising attack plans on enemy points were my childhood games mostly. In addition to these boyish stuff, both of my parents early on taught me to create valuable, useful items and also be willing to toil hard.
Thus when I recently asked dad's help in re-painting (and fixing up) the Silver Queen his response didn't come as a surprise: OK, but you'll have to scrape the old paint off and burr it with emery paper. Advice: buy a new bike instead. You'll be better off! But once I started, didn't give it up - in a few hours the alu-light transportation tool was not only in tiny parts, but ready to be sprayed silver on. To enjoy this fairly unique experience, I uploaded the pictures for you ;)
PS: Forgot to mention that the emery paper had to be wet, so in the windy-cloudy weather I was outside in dad's garden tucking in the bucket all the time and I felt very sorry for myself...

What is good about the hostile bid against MOL? This picture.

If you are interested in the Hungarian Oil Company's takeover threat saga (by Austrian OMV), click here or do a search yourself.
I find the photo on the left exhilarating... It is from the Hungarian Economist, a newspaper famous for its witty, to-the-point covers.
The person dressed in the traditional kuruc outfit is 'Alex' Sándor Csányi. His is a household name here, not least because of the immense wealth he has accumulated throughout his business reign over Hungary's key industries, primarily at the old state-monopoly, OTP Bank.
I suppose Scott is going to appreciate it, hope others do too.

Butterfly-doves bringing smile

There are several sweet elderly ladies in the house. Today one of them smiled at me as I rushed to the elevator. I did notice she had a small plastic bag filled with what looked like breadcrumbs. Less than a minute later I was on my way back downstairs to fetch (in memory of Derby&Sheela) a box of forgotten milk. Upon entering the street a gorgeous view awaited me.
She had hardly left the building, I was right behind her... and a flapping whirl of noise surrounded the tiny figure. The source was a group of pigeons who fast advanced to be titled as doves, without euphemism.
The simplicity and serenity as this elderly, weak vessel crossed the street with mundane birds excitedly circling her, flying, jumping, singing through their dance  was further  glorified by the setting once they reached the park.
Vérmező is one of the nicest green oasis downtown Budapest, right across the street from our house. As I have recorded the first fledgling of Spring last year and had praised it before, it is remarkable in itself. Topped with the dear figure and the slowly settling pigeons as they received the portion which most probably they do everyday, what occurred to me was the notion that this lady is not lonely. She is needed, counted upon -those bird had a clear understanding what was happening and their enthusiastic following could be compared to Konrad Lorenz's duck-motherhood. Dogs couldn't have shown more faithfulness than these hungry winged ones.
When a huge white dog passed by, they rose only for a short circle, settled back to continue the feast and the dog-owner, a young man whom I have seen many times before, exchanged a few sentences with the lady. Though about 30m away, almost at the entrance of the little store, I could clearly "hear" their conversation. There was no need to decode the waves their voices traveled on, merely staring at them, taking in the moment spoke immensely. All was perfect for a minute or so.
I rushed in to get the milk, a small piece of cheese and hurried out not to miss the remainder of this intimate fellowship between birds and man, nature and creation.
Walking back to the gate I was still watching and the gentleman from the 4th floor noted my engrossment and affirmed it. I still chose to take the elevator with him and shared the treasure I had just partaken from. How different it was to arrive home the second time!
If these frozen images burnt onto the screens of human memory are taken, we become the most miserable beings here. With these, we are the Bill Gates of abundant lives.

Judarsaw

Judapest sounds much better, doesn't it? Well, it's Jewish Warsaw I was interested in.
Pictures up, slideshow here. Sorry, didn't separate the newly built section with its high rising glassy towers from the remnant of the ghetto and the last surviving synagogue. It shouldn't be a problem. Why?
Upon watching movies like the Pianist one can easily think that's exaggeration! If you can recall the scene when Brody stumbles around in an absolutely devastated neighborhood... you remember... at 00:58-59 of this trailer Now, that was actually the closest one could depict Warsaw at the end of the war. No, I have seen pictures and documentaries before, but to see that in real life through the present city planning is radically different. Almost an entire city was demolished... it really looked like Carthage. I strongly recommend a full afternoon walk as I did to get the taste of its magnitude and to connect it with picture viewing then. If you see bricks, buildings that show the rectangular shapes which give away their age... it's solemn to reach out and touch what was once the wall of the Ghetto, the old factory and be amazed how much those inanimate construction materials have seen.

The Soviets built some in order to arouse gratitude, with the famous clock tower and museum complex bearing Stalin's megalomaniac egoism. I happened to like its gloomy rule over the very non-traditional downtown area.

But most of those Soviet buildings are trash and now these skyscrapers are taking over the city. You could never do such a thing to downtown Prague, Krakow or Budapest, it would be smashing the grace for good. But if you have something that much destroyed you've got room to play around. I kind a love Berlin for the exact same reason. Potsdamer Platz is an ecstatic view day/night.

Now, having explained why the new buildings are very much historians of the old, let's talk about the progressive, cool Jewish initiatives I encountered. Hehe. Gosh, I was looking hard, but one needs to do her homework better, don't read about the history/places only at the airport, minutes prior to setting out...   Thus there wasn't anyone I could ask, the young gatekeeper at the synagogue I didn't dare for fear of the rabbi sitting next to him. Don't imagine a Darvas, I plead with you.
But I prayed a lot and the spiritual environment brought the inherently sicklish character of Eastern Europe even more alive. You didn't have to toil hard to feel at home at this depressed, competing, youth-losing environment.  The  proverbial Polish-Hungarian comradery is tangible in the air. Economic growth - still poverty. Western prospect - Eastern European thinking. Beautiful people - terribly sad faces. Intellect - inability to break through. Creativity - power of conformism. Old pattern - confronting younger generation. Low pay - UK plumbing. Etc...

I have yet to see the place and people either Jewish or not to show a way forward in this setting (in Poland). shadai and the JP crew together with Marom (for lack of knowing other initiatives well enough, I would mention only these two of the Jewish ones)provide a venue for a cultural (religious) identity in our present setting, with an understanding of the past, but not feeding exclusively from its pain and pointing towards the future we are building right now.
It is good!
Hope there is sth similar happening in Warsaw as well. I guess this generation that leaves in far greater numbers than during any other immigration waves to the New World should stay and look up and ahead to find the way forward. Leaving everything behind as most of them do won't help neither the individual nor the country.
On a positive note, their Purim poster was very cool at the synagogue. Next time I'll ask the young guy, no matter the rabbi.

Alone

No, it's not the typical single girl whining here. It's someone whose heart is torn into pieces every time she has to say goodbye. Don't tell me there will be new people, because I meet new people every week. It's not missing social interaction. I'm losing friends!!!

Simply because it would be boring for you I'm not really writing about Robi anymore. But I think of him all the time. I hate the sight of bikers, because almost always they remind me of him. Most probably it will be one of the most strenuous spiritual exercises to mount the bike sometime soon... when the weather will be nicer (not like snow on Easter morning).
Or certain places, certain music, certain topics we used to discuss. I feel so much less without being able to call him and ask... Or just listen to his insights, his views that would instruct and enrich. I wish I had made those phone calls...then.

Now teammates are leaving. I'll be alone... in Budapest... or at least this is what I think. The prophet thought he was alone and God had 7000 other faithful ones still in store. So though it's the perceived reality, most probably there will be people around who know and love me as I am, encourage me to be who I am and release me into everything God has for me. At such times one realizes how blessed she has been. To be embraced by people with a vision, with pain and suffering to speak from its authority and humility of the heart to share honestly... despite the fact they are older than my very parents, to see them admit mistake and failure. That's true fortune and wealth.
Just know that I love you very much and I'll miss you tremendously. And I am already mourning, trying to prepare for the time when I won't be asked those sometimes uncomfortable questions that propelled me to revisit priorities, to be focused and to really be about Jesus. Never again will Centrál or Gerlóczy be a mere venue for coffee anymore. They can't be unattached from our shared lives.

And the prospect of her going to a royal court or them moving to the EU Cheeseland brings me to the brink of  no other trust than Thine.  So I decided to listen to this. (please, ignore the creepy video. It's an ever powerful pearl song.)

Christos anesti, Esther salvesti, Rais moresti

It's Easter weekend, which would normally mean some family time, a hike to the countryside to escape alcohol-intaking relatives and covetous neighbours' kids. If the link thingie starts working, I'll insert articles about the overly Christian way of celebrating Easter here in Hungary. Oh, we love it, don't we?

It's Purim, which would normally mean fun time with friends, great programs at the Sirály and reading the book of Esther.

None of the above. Instead, I'm sitting in front of a 55" (almost) LCD screen at my friends' place, dog-sitting. The dog, Dió, is curled up on the couch, it is only me sitting... fighting biofuel articles and beheading the monster of a movie script on Gilles de Rais' sweet story. If blood is sweet, his story must be sweet too, right? If the link thingie starts working again, I'm going to upload a word doc on his gentle deeds for which he was hanged in 1440.

Isn't this Easter/Purim fun? At least it's not pouring (rain) right now and today Dió didn't decide to do an entire explore Újlipótváros walk, which we did do yesterday. He didn't seem to be bothered a bit by the immense water absorbed in his fur, he happily kept throwing his front paws in front of each other. A video should be uploaded here, you already now... If the link thingie...
But now we are dry and inside. And I'm wearing Marci's pants (he is at least 190cm) and Juli's tops -topS, no central heating - (she is max 160cm). It's not the sexiest outfit I have ever worn. Hmm, I'm not expecting guests anyway.
And most probably this is the last time they asked me to look after Dió, since I have devoured basically everything and anything I could find in their pantry. The meat from the freezer, the pasta, the soup ingredients, the yoghurt, the cheese, the milk, the juice, the jam... Gosh, such a great friend I am.

Ok, short summary just that it would make sense: I'm am soooooooooooo busy these days that cannot post about things of/in merit, so please be patient. Now back to the forefigure of Mr. Bluebeard, yummy!

Pang...pang

Gosh, I had a very rough start for the weekend. Emotionally I was so drained that just after two glasses of red wine at Bar Ladino (JP here) I was more than okay... surrounded by great friends whom I respect and treasure... and the third glass shouldn't have ever reached me. Anyway, the rest of the weekend continued to be emotionally trashy, highlights were (the result of) the combat with the new vacuum cleaner, the short nap in my flatmate's armchair on the balcony (sunshine!), playing volleyball on Margitsziget with the guys, Christina's delicious Indian 'Sday nite dinner' and going on a walk with Keszi and Mom after church in the gorgeously sunlit streets of Budapest.
Afterwards went to see a movie...  with a girl with whom we have more than an interesting history... Had we known 8 years ago that we were to meet again and were going to return to the same movie theatre and we would be sharing life like this... Anyway, back to the topic. We watched Juno. No frowning please. I was interested,  but didn't get the anticipated sajt (in Scottish, pls) ;) so here is my takeaway: Girls, do not watch this movie!!! You'll want to have a kid and will be crying at the proper motherhood/pregnancy scenes. BTW, this movie has a lot to say about family values. I loved the father's and the stepmother's figure (grace, forgiveness, acceptance prevailed) no matter how unreal their behaviour could seem like in ordinary life. Too much heavy emotion for such a short time.
It's almost midnight on Sunday and I'm finally smiling again.

Pamuk

Just started reading the Snow yesterday and now Funzine sends me this below:

Dear Friends,  

in case you would be interested in a nice program for tomorrow evening.....

Budapest Funzine and Libri Bookstores kindly invite you to our next book club event.

Topic: Orhan Pamuk

A controversial figure, Pamuk is one of the world’s highest-caliber writers, having won many prestigious awards, not least of which was the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2006. For newcomers to the author’s works, several of his most popular titles will be available for purchase.

At this open and informal event, we’ll have a discussion guided by Gergő Huszti, editor at Ulpius Publishing house. Questions and comments regarding the author’s literary accomplishments and political outspokenness are welcome, and we look forward to a lively discussion.

The first 50 people to register will recieve a complimentary authentic Turkish coffee courtesy of Café Frei (www.cafefrei.hu).

Time: March 14th at 6:30pm
Place: Libri Café, Mammut II shopping Center, 2nd floor
1024 Budapest, lövőház u. 2-6. (near Moszkva tér)

Register by sending an e-mail to event@funzine.hu

Biography
Pamuk was born in Istanbul in 1952 and grew up in a wealthy yet declining bourgeois family, an experience he describes in passing in his novels The Black Book and Cevdet Bey and His Sons, as well as more thoroughly in his personal memoir Istanbul. Originally pressured to become an architect, he first forwent his studies in architecture and then a degree in journalism to become a novelist.

Over the next 30 years, Pamut wrote fiction in many forms, including novels and screenplays, and steadily attracted acclaim with each passing novel. He earned a number of critical prizes for his early work, then gained commercial success in the 1990s, when his book New Life, became the fasted-selling work of all time in Turkey. In 2003, he won the IMPAC Dublin Award, the highest literary prize before the Nobel, for his novel My Name is Red, followed in 2006 by the Nobel Prize itself for Istanbul: Memories and the City.

In 2006, after a period in which he stirred much controversy for his outspoken comments on the Armenian Genocide, Pamuk returned to the US to take up a position as a visiting professor at Columbia University in New York City.

In case you had nothing better to do. I'm doing to see a play in Radnóti, so I can't make it :(

Airport fun/Poland with YLG

Travelling to Poland for a long weekend to share stories, explore divine plans for the region with YLG friends. Would appreciate prayers that the right connections would be strengthened.
We will have some wonderful people with us, Jeff Fountain (whom I haven't met yet - shame on me!) and Larry Russell, who simply rocks!
And just to enjoy some special delight: two of my friends are also travelling for business from the same airport at that early hour (departure times between 7-7:30AM) and right now I'm puzzled... David offered a business lounge coffee treatment... Maybe I can sneak in my other friend, Oliver as well? ;) He also offered free coffee... How funny is that???
PS: maybe Niina is right, after all, about the airport min. thingie ;)

Persepolis

Cannot think of a greater way to convey a nation's history than telling a story. Since it's the 21st century, let it be a comic... and use the sweetest graphic solutions to depict the natural and unnatural events of a girl's life who thinks, feels and makes herself and her family's pain accessible just as Art Spiegelman did in the Maus, which I happened to read through almost in one sitting this Saturday and which by the way propelled Marjane Satrapi to write the Persepolis, at least this is what I heard.
Whether true or not, Persepolis is a treasure in itself and should be used to teach contemporary history in elementary schools, just as the Maus has become required reading in some EU countries.
I'm so happy to enjoy all these great treaures!

the Portuguese 'Schindler'

Rather, Wallenberg.
Unforgotten, now re-established. Aristides de Sousa Mendes. More on him here.

Zhivago

How I love his (Pasternak's)  criticism of Tolstoy! He is another reason why I would like to learn Russian in depth. There cannot be greater literary fulfillment than reading the time-trodden, many paged pieces from the distantly close, differently European masters of Russia in their original language.
This is another top-favourite book which I'm planning to re-read very soon, this time in English.
Of course it speaks about Christianity, about Jews/antisemitism, of course there is a Hungarian figure and the book's weightiness is more than natural. The various topics are presented as heavy starters and you know there won't be any main dish. No need for that. The constant refill of these robust philosophical trains of thoughts are woven into the thread of LIFE as one eats breakfast and moves on. And then there is lunch. Hardly have you digested it, you are offered dining now.
I love how Lara is described. I revel in her personality, for this blogger find herself reflected  in Lara's attitude to the work of the mind and to menial chores. She carries out the latter as if it was poetry and mental exercise seems labour in the strictest sense of the word. How much I can related to that!
I love Russia. Not the Soviet Union or what the Soviets turned Russia into. I stick to Russia, with its culture, art, heavy elegance, meat of relevance. How great it would have been to be able to breathe in the atmosphere before WWI, with the czars, salons, icons, 'pesante' Christianity. Only this Latin term comes to mind to describe what I have in mind concerning these people. A certain sense of heaviness, which carries with itself unlimited elegance and manner, ordinary aristocracy. Gosh, I love Russia more and more. And Dostoevsky was a favourite 13 years ago already. (At the age of 15) I still remember that long night in the tent when I finished reading the Idiot, because there were only 380 pages left! If you are into 'megalomaniac' (overarching all spheres of life, touching grandiose subjects) volumes, it's a must read book!

It's a tragedy what happened to this dormant giant, Russia,  in the last 100 years and as we are considering penetrating the land, I'm getting a feel for what used to be there and which might be still prevalent at the right places, among the right people.
Good practice to read.

And since there is too much to share about the book, let is suffice to say it emphasizes the individual micro-story within the context of the mega-story and you get the best of both approaches.

Adam's asleep

Just visited with Emő, a friend who mothers 3. It was great fun to have them all over on me, play, wrestle, laugh together. On the way back from their house a poem blurted out as a result of some recent conversations.

Adam's Asleep
I'd choose you, but you wouldn't me
Who would want me, I wouldn't keen
No greater pain than unreturned love?
Is there pickin' after all?
Pending fulfillment or mere obsession?
A heavy heart sighs as the local train waddles by THAT house.
Memories rush, toss and torture
Craving, screaming, fear of posture
Change? Real? Trembling inside
Wish a seal granted to whisper out loud.
Foxtrot, West-Coast Swing, a Waltzer maybe
The cobblestones withhold passion, indeed.
A dead signals, I'm here He says
No, LIVE for me that's the request
Hurt, wounded, sick and sour
On my plate as special, your tray in parlour?
Need the scent, flex of arm
Your's submission, questions and charm.
Melody gushes forth
Will it stay only mine or also be yours?
As water smoothens,  the wave dies
She is  seated, cast is her dice.

With an Albanian name in Belgrade

L, my dear friend from Serbia sent me the following:

i just wanted to ask you all to pray for my country, there have been going on lot of crazy things since Kosovo got independet. i am just hopping that there will be no war.
and also pray for me and my family and all the Albenians that live in Belgrade serbia. cause we are facing this trials at the street too for the serbian people.
I am a serbian but i do have albenian blood in me...
and live in Belgrade for me or for others its not going to be easy from now on to live.
thank you all for your prayers and concern.
God bless you all

International politics brought into my heart, once again.

Is there sth prophetic about Lufthansa?

Click on the picture on the left, that's a short section of my inbox... Lufthansa's V-day craze (hope there wasn't a war event of such a name!) is advertised with the "Love is in the air" slogan.
It that was true, I should be giving birth to my 4th child by now, just because of the sheer amount of time I board a plane or a cross-country vehicle. In any case, God seems to speak to me through rather extreme channels, why not through an airline company? Until then I still have 1160 emails to archive/delete/tackle. "Inner-tension in the air, every time I login now".

Connect in 2008

Marc said what's important here. And here. We are exploring the Mustard Seed Vow, it's high time we leaped another step in faith.
It was most probably the most uncomfortable Connect meeting I have ever attended, not because of the people, oh no. It was the depth of cutting deep into each others' flesh and chewing our way through the nitty-gritty parts of practical brotherhood.
The message I came home with: the romance part might be slowly maturing into a covenant phase and it requires more of us in all aspect. And to run with your dreams and watch your time management and communication style even more.
And never let your friends know about your deepest passion - you will be joked about all the time. :)
As the plans for the year are concerned, some of us sense the same urges for the international platform. So we most probably enter into new spheres for connections and mutual blessings this year. WYD might be one, for that matter. Anyone out there with strong convictions about St. Pburg, Moscow, Crimea and urban church expressions?

Home delivery

Just a little info preceding the need to breastfeed. It's the delivery of a baby. There is a pile of noteworthy articles on my desk which I have been collecting for almost 8 months. Among them is one from Nick Thorpe who happens to be BBC's Eastern European correspondent.
In the Hungarian article he shares that all of his five children were born in Hungary, all at home. He speaks about what a "home delivery" involves, what are the numbers for occurrences of mishaps in or out of hospital. This is the only relevant news item in English I could find at this hour. No, I'm not expecting, at least not a baby yet ;)

Jokin'

Mom (suffering from a nasty liver disease) has the best sense of humour. It is not only what she says, but the tone... oh, it's a killer. The other day I'm sitting in her kitchen, munching the delicious yummies she prepared for me. There is a terrible noise out on the street (in the resemblance of what an F1 viewer is exposed to). Abhorred I look at her and ask with a puzzled look:
-What's this noise?
-Oh, it's my potential donor.
She blurts out things like that as frequently as you and I breathe.

Breast-feeders chill-tool

OK, this is creepy but I need to keep records somewhere and this blogs allows me to be altruistic in doing so by sharing the information with you guys as well. If you happen to breastfeed, want to breastfeed sometime or you are simply interested in innovative solutions for an ordinary problem, click here. Most probably I got their info at WAMP, which is the cooler art fair/bazaar ever in Budapest. My dream is to save up LOTS of money and go for a big shopping... it is a dream. I have a dream. Oh, it's getting out of control! :)

Passage in Bratislava

Yes, I do like installations after all. Shibboleth is a recent one I enjoyed thoroughly. And I haven't dedicated time to write about the delightful day we spent together with Timotea in Bratislava... though we met for the first time, we could talk for about 7 hours non-stop as if we had always known each other. At the same time we became ever more enthusiastic as more and more threads of life turned out to be parallel... passion, spheres of influence, understanding of life, achievers' spirit... etc.
This weekend I'm exploring Orangeways' extremely good offer to Prague, to meet with the ConnectEurope core-group to explore what God is saying to us. We'll meet with Timotea there, which propelled me to share with you about this extremely cool installation that brought two of my favourites together - God and books - with the purpose of depicting eternity.
Click on the pictures to enlarge and below to read what Matej Kren, the brain behind the Passage, says about this amazing piece of art and check out the other shots as well. If you have an afternoon to kill, drive up to Bratislava and check it out. You'll feel dizzy and startled by the immense space that opens up in the territory of our bathroom.