Az Ember, 1941 (16. évfolyam, 41. szám)
1941-11-01 / 41. szám
22 Az Ember NOVEMBER 1. Az emigránsok szesztinája Mint lázálom koholta szörnyű lépcső, hová lazult, rogyott inakkal érünk, mint vert paraszt térdének grófi lépcső s kérvényt vivőnek sima, hosszú lépcső: ilyen nekünk e naptalan külország. Mert lépcső ez, tüdőt fogyasztó lépcső, nyomortanyák bűzén kanyargó lépcső, hol tört kóróként szikkad lelked álma és nem kisér, csak vak remények álma s az esztelen vitáktól zengő lépcső melyen bolyongva nem találni pártot ahol nem ütnek egymás ellen pártot. Magadban lelj, mint Dante tette, pártot, mert ingatag ködökben jár e lépcső, s a forgószél ledöntött minden pártot, mig tört szivek várják az ifjú pártot, s a messze célt, amelyhez még elérünk. Toliaddal pótold a hazát s a pártot, s önön váltadra vedd a tiszta pártot, mert zord habon dobott hajó az ország s kiáltó hangot tőled vár az ország, mely nem talál reményt, hitet se pártot, s a harcosok s a vértanuk ködálma elfoszlott, mint a délibábok álma. Konok legyen s töretlen lelked álma, s ha kell, századszor ujra kezdd a pártot, mert szennybe-vérbe füllt az ember álma, és nincs vigasz, csupán Erasmus álma, mely fénylik még, mint Jákobnak a Lépcső. Sziklákon kelve, mint titánok álma, sarjadjon igy s viruljon lelkünk álma, mig majd a nép, amelyhez még elérünk megrázkodik, mint hogyha dróthoz érünk, hogy felderengjen tar mezőid álma, s megláthassunk, gyászodban özvegy ország, ki csak leszel, de nem voltál az ország. Mert csak szivünkben áll, ha áll, az ország, s emlékünk ritkul, mint a vakok álma, és lassúdon felejtünk, távol ország, ó néma hangú, lázas ajkú ország, hol vén gazok koholnak úri pártot. De bus kadarka-ized, gyötrött ország, édesb nekünk, mint minden édes ország, s bár lépcső lettél, csizma-tiprott lépcső, gróf és lakáj lábának könnyű lépcső: te vagy nekünk a hatalom s az ország, s a mérleg, mely leméri, mennyit érünk, ha élve-halva bus öledre érünk. Ajkunk remeg, mikor nevedhez érünk, s betegeid mi vagyunk, beteg ország, mert nedvadó méységedig nem érünk, s igy pusztaságban, magtalanul érünk, te vagy kórházunk, lelkünk béna álma, s bus gyógyszerünk, mely nélkül mit sem érünk, mig egyszer, elborulva, célhoz érünk, hol nem kell majd suttogva ütni pártot, mivel te adsz vigaszt, hazát és pártot, ha jó a nap amelyhez még elérünk, s e vén, kanyargó szállodai lépcső kigyul, mint reggel rózsafényü lépcső. Szállj, szesztinám, egyhangú, szomju lépc s hirdesd a bujdosóknak■ hazaérünk, hirdessed: uj reménynek virrad álma, és meglátunk, bolyongók boldog álma, ó kény ér-szag u, rőt pipacsu ország, szikkadt mezőjü örök Magyarország. FALUDY GYÖRGY THE GARDEN SPOT OF THE WORLD. Going about our daily tasks we are so apt to forget to be grateful for the great privelege of living in these United States. It is only when stark facts are put before us that we realize the manifold blessings that are ours. The native born American very often does not know about the living conditions in other parts of the worlo. Yes«, sometimes he reads about them, but is not concerned, really. Hearing and reading about them is not quite the same as actually living through circumstances and experiences. It is the naturalized citizen whose awareness is most acute on this matter. They remember how it used to be in jtheir "old country”. This writerj having been transplanted to this country at a tender age, had the good fortune to take a trip abroad several years ago. The realization of this event meant the culmination of a long cherished desire: to go aud see our native land. Didn’t Sir Walter Scott ex^ol the virtues of country love when he said: Breaths there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said ‘This is my own, my native land!” We crossed the Atlantic with high hopes and expectations anti were not a bit disappointed ir the exotic beauty of Budapest Here was a truiy unique city where the Turks had once livec |and reigned for one hundred anc I fifty years. They left their marl« on the art, church domes anc pany other places. It is very de finite in the mental make up of the women, and the attitude of the lethargy in the men. Bui the now growing generation is trying very hard to improve the old conception about work anc morals. We found a littie toe much bowing to the Americar dollar and far too much empha sis put on attractng tourist trade Almost as if all the seeminj aches and pains of the country could be ironed out by runninc busses to Mezőkövesd and the Alföld. Howeverj there was some thing definitely sincere, nay, pa thetic in the eagerness of aim ing to please. We shall nevei forget the ever-ready service anc the loving kindness with whief •we were literally showerec wherever we went. But then was something there that madf us believe that we were trans ported back into the middli ages. Progress, yes, there wa: some. In trade especially, am towards the social graces. Bu underneath it all there was some thing so stale, so obsolete tha at first we refused to admit it We were astonished to find hov Dackward Hungary is in point ; of human progress and better ment, social legislation, labor re forms«, land reforms and evei education. On top of it all i seemed odd to this writer tha all the seeming lack of materia and growth was blamed on phan toms so remote from the under lying causes that we wonderei whether they indulged in re search work and whether then was any interest in Cause am Effect. We bow in acknowledgmen of the fine gynasiums and uni versifies found in practical!; every city in Hungary. They an top notch in every respect. Bu what about the e lementar; I schools in the little hamlets am villages« of which there are s« . many throughout the country unimpressed, exce pt for the cock feathers and natty uniterms. (What a shame, not to have our camera handy!) “We afe looking for an American woman” — said the more grouchy looking of the two. “She is right here’^ replied the hostess, "Juliska, open the gates for the csendőr uraknak.” Juliska went, her knees shaking audibly. The officers marched in, stiffly and noisely. This writer went forward to meet them. “You are a foreigner (in one's own birth place) and we should like to question you. It is our duty,” staccatoed Mr. Grouchy. “What is your name? How old are you? (Of all things, to ask a woman in the presence of several other women, how old she is! How much nicer it is here. After we have become of voting age, we say, over twenty-one. The good natured policemen smile so understandingly when one of our kind, long passed what is termed "prime” in materia medica, says she is over twenty-one. Even at census taking, which is certainly of much importance, there is no questioning about one’s age, here in these good old United States.) “What is your religion, and what is the purpose of your visit?”, our heckler went on. Of all things to ask! There is our god motherj sniffing in the sweet fragrance of the tea rose, please ask her. How do we know into which church she carried us. There seems to be three very good ones on the hill. “How long do you expect to stay? “Sirs«, we gave all this information at the village hall last week, there it is the assistant > notary has it all in the big book.” “But you are a foreigner and as such must be ............. .” Our questioner had difficulty in writing down our name Moreover he seemed so uncomfortable standing there with heavy rifles I on his shoulder, with drawn sabers attached to it. Mischief began in our thought. We took his note book and pencil and wrote down our answer to all his questions—in English. We spent some time living among the children of the soil. Saw little old women almost bent in half from carrying bags on their back; felt the home spun, coarse linen used for everything, from lining bread baskets, to bed sheets and underwear. ! And then we compared the lot of the farmers wife here. How I much time has been spent in inventing labor-saving machines to make her daily chores lighter land to lift the yoke of hard manual work from that of her husiband. How much less of a burden it is to till the soil here. Farmers in this country have radios, washing machines, refriigirators. We look upon them I with pride and admiration, these humble folk who have played such an important' part in the history of our country and do so even today. They form the most vital part of the American Institution. When an immigrant returns for a visit to his native land it is no wonder that he is besieged by those at home to take them to America, Having seen conditions over there, we feel that we should be doubly grateful to this, our adopted country. It not only provides us with our daily bread and butter, but it gives us luxuries, freedom to pursue whatever religion we choose, and the thousand and one benefits with which we are encircled in our everyday life . Seeing the way Hungary embraced Na-We found that there was a good ieal of apathy there which worked very effectively in the way :hat the instructors ran the schools and their peasant children. Never mind teaching these ihildren of the soil much. A little bit of the three R’s is good tnough. They migh$ become bolsheviks if you teach them how to think. And so, while the school master took his daily siesta, his little puils- performed for him odds and ends of chores, such as shelling his cornj chopping wood, helping with household duties, etc. Let any public school teacher try to do that in this country.... It was amazing, too( how much blighted thinking in the form of superstition and fear of the natural and supernatural is imbedded, or rather inculcated into the lives of the people. Ask a univers-ity student about it and he will tell you that he does not believe in it, but give him a chance to talk to you for a little while and you recognize in it all his actions. His parents being saturated with mysticism and irrationalism he cannot overcome its coming up from his subconscious self and his college curricula does not provide for its uprooting. On the other hand we found a great deal of energy spent on detective work. We mean the investigating and following up on the activities of all people coming into the country. Some of this« is perhaps needed. But this writer is still uncertain why the csendőr and the rendőr had to check her every move. But such is their orders. For instance, we were checked at the border. We had complied with the law by registering at the village hall the day after our arrival. (Had it not been a Sunday, we should have reported the same day, having been cautioned by well-meaning friends to be sure to do this, lest we forget and be fined.) We submitted to a thorough scrutiny of our passport, and answered all questions truthfully to the best of our knowledge. In spite of this, about a week later, sipping fine coffee at “uzsonna”time ’midst a pleasant gathering cf relatives and friends, a handsome pair of gendarmie appeared at the iron gate, rattling on it earnestly to be let in. The little kitchen maid was all aquiver, remembering that her mother had gone afield fo pick potatoes. The gypsies« from the end of the village do like to roam about, ferever on the lookout for a stray fowl or a fatted goose. No doubt they were caught in the act and here they were( these “watchmen of the quiet“, coming to tell her aboutit. “What are you staring at?” said her mistress, unable to hide her own discomfort. “Haven't you seen chendőrs before?” In the meantime Mrs. Takács murmured to the others: “Jesusj Mary, that stupid swineherd always meandering around the canal where pretty maidens wash their calicos with their mallet. It must be that the halfwit forgot ail about the herd of pigs, looking at the girls, and pigs being pigs, they de voured all the beets piled up in our yard ready for next day’s market. “Oh me, oh my ...... I . ... ..............” Mrs. Szűcs sat erect, cup in hand, about to rinse her throat, but on sight of those good looking men with perky black moustaches, she too became trans-fixied. We were the only ones in the group unafraid, despite the fixed bayonets, and A NEW YORKI IFJÚSÁGI KÖR ÉS DALTESTÜLET szeretettel köszönti AZ EMBERT és annak szerkesztőjét tizenöt esztendős jubileuma alkalmából.
