Eger

I let out a huge sigh of relief and nestled into an empty window seat. Two hours. I had two full hours to relax and enjoy the scenic ride into northern Hungary. This was the first time in a week I didn’t have to worry about navigating throughout a foreign city without speaking the language. And since sitting is my favorite activity of all time, these next two hours were ideal. My plan was to read my handy Rick Steves’ guide book to refresh my memory about all the exciting things that awaited me in Eger. I also wanted to make sure I took in the scenery as the train cruised through the sprawling Hungarian farming region. Soaking up all that this beautiful country had to offer was really important to me- especially knowing that my grandmother, many years ago had called this land her home. Sitting, reading and soaking up beauty – not too shabby of an itinerary for the next two hours.

Eger is a charming northern Hungarian town full of history. I would be staying the night at Senator Haz hotel, a nearly 300 year old building in the heart of town in Dobó Square. The town is known for its castle, cathedrals, and beautiful Baroque and Neoclassicist architecture. I was really looking forward to leisurely exploring it all. Plus this would probably be my chance to use “If it ain’t Baroque, don’t fix it” as an Instagram caption. Shout out to Cogsworth from Beauty and the Beast for that one!

The train began to fill up as it started getting close to the 11AM departure time. While engrossed in my thoughts about my upcoming adventure, a woman sat down next to me and her grandson across from her. The seats were arranged in groups of fours, two rows of two seats right across from one another. It was tight quarters so I hugged my backpack to my chest to try and make room for all of us. As I was trying to rearrange myself and my backpack for optimal comfort, another woman came to our section. She smiled at the three of us and wiggled her way into the seat directly across from me. As she was organizing her bags under her seat, she smiled at me warmly and said a few words. I had only been able to pick up 3 words in Hungarian – hallo (a single greeting for both hello and goodbye), Köszönöm (thank you), ter (square) – none of which were used in her pleasantries. I smiled back at her and said desperately, “I’m sorry. I only speak English. English?” She smiled back, not understanding me at all and sat down.

Although that interaction lasted a mere 30 seconds, there was already a special connection formed. Her warmth and kindness radiated through her words and her smile. If I had to pick any Hungarian-speaking stranger to sit inches away from for a 2-hour train ride, I would have picked her. There was a comfort to her presence. She was an older woman with short brown hair. She wore a white t-shirt with a denim shirt over it and heather gray sweatpants. As a sweatpants connoisseur, I was blown away by the ease in which she pulled this look off with. I returned to my Rick Steves’ Budapest book and the train pulled away from the station.

It was hard to concentrate for long on the words on the pages so I glanced up to look at my new friend. She saw me and again said a few things. I looked at her in a way that I hope conveyed, “I’m really sorry but I don’t understand. I so desperately wish I did because you seem awesome and I wish we could be friends. I’d love to hear all about your life and learn about Hungary from you. I also want you to know how much you are killing that denim shirt/sweatpants look.” I stared out the window as we sped out of the city. From time to time, we’d make eye contact and smile at one another.

As we left Budapest and entered the Hungarian countryside, I couldn’t help thinking about how badly I wanted to communicate with this woman. I went back to my Rick Steves book and tried to use the “Basic Hungarian Phrases” pages to come up with something I could say to her. Unfortunately, there was nothing there that seemed useful. I also didn’t think saying “Hello. Square. Thank you.” would be any better. I continued to watch the countryside pass by, spotting small houses come in and out of view. It hit me that I was really in Hungary, the land of my ancestors.

After a few more glances and smiles with this sweatpants goddess, I realized that I could try to use my phone to Google Translate a few words. I had used Google Translate to read menus and signs during my trip but hadn’t used it to converse before. I wrote something like, “Hi. I’m sorry I only speak English. I am visiting from America. My grandmother was from Hungary. I am having a wonderful time here.” I hit translate and nervously waited until she looked up again. I then awkwardly handed her my phone for her to read my message. She took it cautiously, read it, and seemed a little confused. Goodness, did my words get lost in Google translation somehow? She handed me back my phone and gave a half-smile. Did I just break our beautiful connection that we had somehow? I went back to my book.

After some time, the train made its first stop and the grandmother and grandson next to me got off. My friend and I automatically stretched out and rearranged our bags. We laughed together as we had done the same thing at the same exact time. Connection back on! With all this new-found leg room, she seemed eager to be able to get to one of her bags that she couldn’t before. She reached into her tote and pulled out a Ziploc baggie full of 5×7 photos. She took them out and began showing me her family. She swooned over her grandson and beamed at her children. She passed me photo after photo, narrating each one with love in every word. Although I couldn’t understand the words, the feelings could not get lost in translation. I took out my phone and hoped that Google Translate wouldn’t fail me again. I wrote, “Thank you for sharing these photos with me. Your family is beautiful.” I hit translate, handed her the phone and her face lit up. Success!

She put away the photos and I checked the time. We only had about a half hour to go. Comforted by both this woman’s presence and our leg room, I went back to watching the scenery outside. Again, after some time we both looked at each other and she said “Eger?” A word I knew! Yes, Eger! I shook my head with delight. I was pretty certain that Eger was the last stop but knowing that my friend was getting off there made me feel better about not missing the stop. We were getting closer and closer to Eger so I found the page in my guidebook highlighting step-by-step directions of how to walk to Dobó Square from the train station. It was time for me to get my navigating hat back on and prepare to figure out the walk to Eger’s town square.

Finally, the train pulled into Eger’s tiny station. It was indeed the last stop so everyone started filing out of the train. I gathered up my backpack and followed my friend out the door. We took a few steps together onto the platform and faced one another. She said a few words, flashed me that famous smile, gently touched my arm and with a mighty “Hallo!” took off. I stood there and laughed to myself at how funny saying “Hello!” and then leaving seemed. What an amazing experience– being able to connect with this woman without speaking the same language.

Reality quickly hit, I was standing on a train platform in Eger, Hungary where no one spoke English and had no idea how to navigate to my hotel. The platform had cleared so I took out my handy-dandy guide book and started following Rick’s directions for getting to Dobó Square.

Eager to get to the hotel, I took off at a brisk pace. I made the first right out of the train station’s parking lot and crossed at an intersection. I looked up from my book and to my delight, saw the woman- denim shirt, sweatpants and all. She was a fair distance away and walking quickly. She was so far ahead of me that I wouldn’t have been able to catch up. I contemplated trying to call out to her, but what would I say? “SQUARE. HELLO/GOODBYE. THANK YOU!” I gazed at her steady gait in front of me and desperately wished for her to turn around. I couldn’t imagine why she would. All of a sudden as if Oprah herself had heard and answered my prayers, my Hungarian-sweatpants-and-denim-shirt-wearing-grandmother-friend turned around. She saw me and stopped dead in her tracks and waved. I gave her a huge smile and waved back. I power walked my way to her (90 degree arm angles and heel-to-toe walk – thank you Marlboro High School power walking class!) as she waited for me to catch up.

We reunited and started walking together. A few steps in I said, “Dobó Ter”, trying to get her to understand where I was headed. “DOBÓ TER!” she happily said, understanding my words for the first time. Through gestures and excitement she let me know that she was headed there too and would take me. At least I assumed that was what was happening, so I threw my book in my backpack and put my trust in her. We took off together, walking through the suburbs of Eger. We couldn’t speak to communicate but took comfort in one another’s presence. After a couple of minutes, she stopped to take off her jacket and tossed it in her duffel bag. I took out my phone again and used Google Translate to ask if I could help carry one of her bags. She read my screen and handed over her duffel immediately. I was so glad I could help and proceeded to carry her bag. With her hands free now, she was able to take out her cell phone. She showed it to me and pointed at mine and shrugged as if to say, “I’m sorry mine isn’t as fancy as yours and can’t translate.” We both laughed and I told her it was ok.

We continued walking on the same street for about ten minutes. We then passed a sign that said Dobó Ter. She excitedly pointed out the sign to me. All of a sudden as if we had stepped into a fairytale; we arrived in the most picturesque little village. She perked up and began pointing out different things. When we passed by a gorgeous Baroque church she said “bazilika” and crossed herself. She then pointed to her ring finger and pointed back to the church. Had she been married there? Or was she just really trying to get the message across to me? She has so much to share about this amazing culture; I wish I could understand it all.

Abruptly after our little tour, she stopped and pointed out toward the center of town. “Dobó Ter!” she said happily. I nodded, understanding that our journey together was coming to an end. I took her duffel bag off of my shoulder. We engulfed one another in a big hug. My connection with her was special. We didn’t need a common language to understand one another, her kindness and warmth was universal. Human kindness and warmth is universal. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and with a big “Hallo!” she was off.