Magyar Hírek, 1984 (37. évfolyam, 2-26. szám)
1984-02-18 / 4. szám
He taught Hungarian in Albany Talking to Ambrus Galántai PHOTO: VIKTOR GABOR “What gave you the idea of teaching Hungarians abroad?” “I qualified to teach primary school, but the low income I earned as a beginner was not enough to cover the cost of building a home, I therefore also took a second job, in adult education at Debrecen, and since I taught industrial apprentices, I gained experience in a number of kinds of teaching. My father lives in Kitchener, Ontario and I decided to accept his invitation, joining him for three months to learn English. I deputized for the teacher of the local Hungarian school a few times, when he fell ill, and that way 1 learnt to teach Hungarian as a foreign language. When I returned to Hungary, I went to Főt, to the Children’s Town, to teach children under state care and, apart from a three years break, I still work there.” “This was the break, which gave you the opportunity to teach Hungarian in Albany, Louisiana, U.S., for three years?” “Yes, that is right. I taught Hungarian as a qualified teacher of the language for three years, but the language of instruction was English, since they could not speak even one word of Hungarian when I started. I did adult education work among the parents since the knowledge the children acquired would have quickly faded without an appropriate family background. We revived Santa Claus festivities, the tradition of which had completely faded in Albany. I dug myself also into the past of the settlement since one must know the past, in this instance the story of those who migrated there a hundred years ago, in order to understand the present, and lay the foundations of the future.” “What did you tell to your pupils about faraway Hungary?” “I told them that there was a country, where people spoke as I did, the same language their forebears spoke. Of course, you could ask, as I asked myself: why exactly did they choose to learn Hungarian? Well, the reason was that the inhabitants of Albany traditionally regard their city as a Hungarian settlement. I thumbed through many old certificates of baptism, registry books, certificates of marriage, in which the name of the then tiny settlement was given as Árpádhon. During the boomtime of the railways, the foreign-sounding name of the settlement was changed to Albany, evidently inspired by the name of the river flowing nearby, the Natalbany. But the farms near to the city, which did not grow to become independent settlements are still shown by the sign posts on the highways as Hungarian settlement.” “Didn’t it occur to you to write a book on the history of the settlement of the Hungarians in Albany, after spending two years there collecting data?” “Well, this is a cherished plan of mine. I collected people's recollections on several dozens of casettes, and spent a lot of time in the archives. The whole load of my notes is towering here, on my desk, but I am not yet in a mentally and physically fit state to embark on such a huge task. It is hard for me to get over that day.” “What day was that?” “The 21st November 1981. 1 pieced together each minute, each second of that day in myself again and again. Well, I went over to New Orleans from Albany one might to an acquaintance of mine. We planned to go non-stop to New York the next day, together. There was a one week autumn vacation at the school, and my wife had just arrived in New York. We thought we could combine business and pleasure, and take a trip. We started rather late. We picked up an old tramp, a genuine, inebriated, Kerouac character. We much enjoyed the trip, the speed and the sunshine. And later we had a flat tyre... When I became too tired, I handed over the wheel to my friend, and went to sleep on the backseat When I woke, the car was standing still on the pitch-black highway. Suddenly, a beam of light broke out of the darkness... That car hit me above the knees, the others got away with minor, or not so minor injuries. I had no idea, that I lost both of my legs.” “How did you get over it?” “I did not take it in. My wife broke it to me while I was still much under the effect of drugs in the hospital. I did not believe her either. Later, when it dawned on me one night, that I would have to live with this situation right through my life, I suffered horribly. Will this always be like this? Is it impossible to get out of this role?” “Well, your friends, the people around you did everything possible for you. The newspapers out there and at home were full of your accident.” “That is right. If I played my role, my friends also played well. Sometimes as many as eightto-ten comforting Hungarians gathered at my bedside, who first met there. People built a ramp around the school in Albany to enable me to move about in a wheel-chair. The local people and the Hungarians living there also gave me much pecuniary assistance to cover my expenses. All this gave me much courage, but sometimes I feel, the major difficulties are still ahead... That is when I ask with sober mind, whether anybody could get over such a major physical loss without injuring the mind, the answer is no. I stood my ground well while I lived in the focus of interest. But what will happen, when people will just accept the fact that this Ambrus Galántai is still alive, when all this will become a commonplace to people around me. And I am still here, without legs, burdened with the knowledge that my physical condition will not improve with the passing of time. Miserable problems, these are for a man of thirty eight.” “How are you living now, and what are your ideas about the future?” “I am not an out-and-out pessimist, so I can state: the idea of suicide is far from me. I shall be rid of a great problem when I will be able to arrange my environment to suit the changed circumstances. I am no longer the man I used to be. When somebody’s eyes deteriorate, his hearing becomes more acute. I trust, that I will develop some, so far unrecognized talents which will put the balance right. Until then, the only therapy is to work as hard, as I can under the circumstances.” SÁNDOR LINTNER Jonah, Siam, and the others Whenever I got to the main entrance supported by those elephants, I always felt excited. A trip to the Zoo meant as much as a journey around the world to me as a boy and later as a growing lad. I looked at the lions, and trembled, the scent of lemon blossom in the choking hot, and I felt loving warmth, thy python, and the huge crocodiles, and I was full of silent revulsion. I imagined myself in the tropics, when I was in the Palm House, where I breathed in the scent of lemon blossom in the choking hot, moist air. The Budapest Zoo opened its gates 118 years ago, as a result of the hard work of a small band of enthusiasts, nature lovers and patriots. Their leader, János Xantus is commemorated by a statue near the main entrance. The great event divided the public. Thousands upon thousands of ladies and gentlemen made their way to the Park, which was then quite away from the centre of the city, to see the fifth zoological gardens in Europe. The first modernization got under way 20-3(1 years later. The well-known zoologist, Adolf Lendl, the director of the Museum of Natural Sciences was commissioned to plan and carry out the reorganization of the Zoo according to modern principles, making use of the experience of the, by then, burgeoning foreign zoos. This work began during the 1910s and was given a real impetus in 1914. That was the time when the Zoological Gardens acquired the image and appearance many of us still remember. A beau, tiful main entrance was built complete with two stone elephants, and the House of Pachyderms, reminiscent of the fabulous East. The Transylvanian architect scholar, and writer, Károly Kós designed a number of the buildings, of which the Aviary, the Alley of Pheasants, and the Deer House still stands. The Second World War did not spare the popular Zoo either. Several of the buildings were damaged beyond repair, others could be restored. Hardly any of the animals survived. A few birds, snakes, and r lone hippopotamus^" 30
