Magyar News, 1992. szeptember-1993. augusztus (3. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)

1993-02-01 / 6. szám

FIRST STEPS (continued from page 1)

I HAD TO GO AND LIVE IT!

“Hoagy van, oronjosh lanya?” One of the first phrases I remember from childhood. This was the start of Sundays at Grandma’s, with the smell of lard and onions frying with paprika, from morning till night. Palacsinta, if we were lucky, and sutny salona in summer. Glorious foods with musical names, fruit trees and chickens in the back yard. All the neighborhood ladies spending afternoons there. Hungarian spoken, of course. I even learned to speak a bit.

Being Hungarian seemed like no big deal at the time. But as the old folks passed on, and neighborhoods changed, how I longed to hear Grandpa’s lilting voice, and go pick grapes from his tiny urban arbor. And why, why didn ’ 11 ha ve my father teach

me Hungarian. A pile of lace doilies in a shoebox was all I had left of my Hungarian self.

Then, a phone call from my cousin Barbara made me wake up and smell the gulyash. Her brother Paul had been corresponding with a cousin in Slovakia, and compiling a family tree. Next thing, was a trip to the Old Country. I had two days to decide, in order to get the reduced flight rates. My heart said yes, my bank balance said no, so of course I went anyway.

In the meantime, photos were exchanged so we would know what each other looked like. We expected to see cousin Ildikó Bcny i, but were completely overwhelmed to also be greeted by her parents Józsi, Valeria, and our relatives from Slovakia, Adél Csáji and her parents Irma and Gyula, who drove five hours to be there to greet us: We were presented with huge bunches of gladiolas. Choking back tears, we hugged, kissed, and

laughed as we took in the momentousness of this meeting. We piled into two cars and off we went to drink, dine, and get to know each other. Ildikó, 21, and Adél, 31, were the only English speakers, so with patience and dictionaries, we conversed. Many hilarious mix-ups ensued, but Uncles A1 and Lou from America found that they remembered a lot more Hungarian from their childhood than they thought. Barbara brought out the family tree and photographs, and the relatives were so pleased to see how much we cared about the family, despite all of the distance.

After dinner, we watched TV - “Dallas” is popular in Hungary. Then for the next four days we toured Budapest. Gorgeous city: Great people: And to see the Duna

River is thrilling; and Parliament, Buda Castle, Fishermen’s Bastion: too much to tell of here!

Hemádvécse was our next stop - to Ildiko’s family home. A student in radio broadcasting in Budapest, but she was as much at home working hard in the cabbage fields. This is outstanding - everyone we met had so much drive and energy. Leisure time is scarce, but grace and vitality glowed from their every activity. Hemádvécse is basically a one-street village. Everyone has chickens, a family vegetable garden, some have pigs. And of course, grapes everywhere. So after a day at work they have garden and animal chores. Late one night, a neighbor came over in a panic - gypsies were seen stealing cabbages: So our hardworking family had more to do - they dashed out to their field. So much for a quiet evening.

After several delightful days with the Bényis, which included day trips to Tokaj,

castle ruins and a 13th century church, we bid tearful good-byes, and headed off to the Csaji home in Slovakia. Everyone there is Hungarian, because the whole are was Hungarian until after WWI. This is a larger village, also with chickens and family gardens, but near a steel mill that employs many of the area’s people. Cousin Adél, a lawyer, gave us a tour, including a baron’s estate that is being renovated. We went to the city of Kosice which has the Cathedral of St. Elizabeth, with the tombs of Rákóczi and Eszterhazy, built in the 13th centuty. Back in the village, we met more family members, some spanning four generations. All the hard work Paul put into the family tree paid off - everyone was accounted for, and was so pleased to be included. A main event was the visit to our Grandfather, Louis Kardos’ home village of Felső Lánc. This also is only one street, with the cemetery at the end, where we saw our great grandparents’ graves. With relatives, weall exchanged gifts and did our best with the language. We got to go to Grandpa’s church, where the minister played Hungarian hymns on the organ and sang. We saw the chandeliers that Grandpa and his sisters donated money towards.

At last it was time to bid goodbye. Tears flowed, and we barely made the train.

Along with our memories, the four of us travellers have photos and I brought a pocket-sized tape recorder, with tapes of everything from our dinner conversations to the morning cowbells on record. Next year, other family members will go to visit our wonderful relatives. And we hope for the pleasure of having them visit us here. Their warmth and hospitality was incredibly moving. And when I go back, you can be sure I’ll have done some more language studies. They have so much to share with us.

Susan Fazekas Page 3

Susan meets her great-aunt, Elizabeth. To the left: Adel, Barbara and Elizabeth.