7/24 thru 28, Keszthely & Zalacsany

A couple of days loafing around Keszthely. It is a town that is well set up for it. I get my morning walk in and come back and practice for a while. We grab some lunch and then Zia and I take a walk to people watch. Home to practice a little more, maybe update the blog, perhaps a nap, perhaps a swim in the warm lake, gab with Peter and Vera, a light dinner, and then back to the Boardwalk for the evening program and a gelato or a beer and some more people watching. If we are feeling enthusiastic, we will bring suits and go swimming again. Do I really have to come home?

On the first of our home visits, Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni, with Klaudia, made it by this week. We had a barbecue, and I made Mediterranean Tofu Tias. Klaudia says she enjoyed them, and I believe her. Vera enjoyed them a lot, and then came up with an even better version later in the week using mushrooms instead of tofu. Everyone else ate dead animal flesh. Again, Zia will need to describe that part for you. Not part of my culinary experience this trip, sorry.

The next evening we visited Kazi and Zsusza’s vacation condo in Zalacsany, just down the road from Keszthely. The condos are built next to a castle. The condo is owned by an architect, who as a child dreamed of owning a castle. When this one became available, she hocked everything to buy it. She financed the effort by selling off the side yard. The person who bought it sat on it for a while, meanwhile she turned her castle into a resort hotel. The person who bought the side yard decided not to use it, so, putting herself into debt again, the architect bought the side yard back. She built a bunch of duplex condos, which she is now selling (a two bedroom one will set you back $50,000). Meanwhile, a championship golf course is going in across the street, with a major championship match scheduled there next year. I think property values will be going up soon, better act fast!

And so, we enjoyed the pool behind the castle. A beautiful day, maybe my farmer tan will disappear before the end of the trip. It could happen!

The next day I woke up not feeling very well due to dehydration. It has been unusually hot in Europe this summer, a continent that does not believe in air conditioning. This has lead to several deaths here this summer, over 25 in France as of last week and more than 14 in Spain. Balaton, a spring fed lake with no outlet has dropped more than 10 cm. in a week. So, lots of water, and better by evening.


*****

This evening we are the guests of Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni at a "Gypsy Wedding" show put on by a pro group in Zalacsany. Needless to say the show is proceeded with schnapps (you knew that had to happen). They meet you at the gate with it, with a traditional dry biscuit chaser. There is a photographer there to memorialize your shudders for posterity (that they will be happy to sell you after the show for $59.99, or something...). Then into the performance hall.

They perform in a permanent structure in a meadow on the edge of town. A huge wooden stage is covered with an elaborate wooden scaffolding, with a canvas roof. The audience is in arena seating, with bench seats and a plank table in front of you. Two pitchers of very good, home-grown wine, one red, one white await your drinking pleasure. A recording is playing the last tune in the Hungarian Folk Suite that was the recessional for our wedding last year and is now entrusted to Z-Musikmakers - at least I got that tune right! Meanwhile the band is setting up and quickly checking mics. The band is two guitars, a mandolin, a female vocalist (who is the dancer when the band performs separate from this show), and a percussionist who plays milk jug. Really! You have to hear it to believe it, it is pretty incredible.

One of the actors is floating around behind the audience, posing for pictures with the audience (available following the show for $59.99). Zia explains that gypsy women traditionally wear clothing that doesn’t match, and is as bright as possible to attract attention. Somewhat like what I wear to school every day, only more tasteful, I guess.

The head gypsy of the band is called "Vaida." Our Vaida is the MC of this evening’s festivities. He evidently is an insult comic, according to Zia. He begins the show by introducing his wife ("once she was pretty, now she is my wife"). Zia at this point warns me that the script contains a certain amount of profanity. I pass the warning on to you, be fore warned that I am including comments from our Vaida, and they include a certain amount of profanity. You have been warned. On with the show...

The script is a horse opera, literally. Our hero is stealing a horse to impress a girl and win her as his wife. Unfortunately, he kills his future father-in-law in the process. ("I’ve never seen such a f*^&#%g ugly dead man.") Regrettably, he doesn’t stay dead. ("Never mind, I don’t have luck in life.") The wealthy horse owner and two side kicks return, and there are several of the tricks from our Puszta show of the other evening. At one point several of these tricks are done by a mule, ridden by the father-in-law, which, according to Zia, is incredibly difficult. ("He’s a poor cowboy, his horse is as big as a dog.") I hope, at this point, that you are catching on that the plot is pretty irrelevant here. The band is pretty hip, in a very subtle way. For example, at the end of this whole mule schtick, Vaida says, "get outta here," the band plays a real short instrumental version of "Hit The Road Jack." If you don’t know the tune, you probably missed it, but several folks in the crowd got a chuckle out of it.

So, on with the "plot." The wealthy guy wants to buy the girl, which leads into a scene where he is tricked into getting drunk on sacramental wine at the ceremony, and his bride is stolen away. Much dancing ensues. The dancing is a highly skilled cross between break dancing and the slappy dance. The percussionist is adding some pretty cool mouth percussion to the music at this point, in addition to anchoring the group with bass lines played by controlling how he slaps his hand on the end of the milk jug. It is pretty amazing.

There is a mistaken belief that Hungarian Folk Music and Gypsy Folk Music are the same thing. Although there is considerable overlap, instrumental differences, and melodic shapes and modalities are different. Having heard a lot of Hungarian Folk Music lately, the differences in this show are pretty evident, although hard to describe without playing you some examples.

Anyway, onward. Half-time brings the main course. We are dining on Paprikas this evening, beef for the carnivores and mushroom for the vegetarians. The side dishes include a regional specialty. It is a pasta, made by grating a hard dough into small discs, and then cooking with lentils. This is accompanied by white bread (and yes, it is way better in Europe than in the US). The Mushroom Paprikas was a little oily, but the pasta was very flavorful. Not my best meal here, but not too shabby either. Desert is a brownie like thing, not too sweet, more nutty. Fill up the wine glasses, and on with the show.

The opening number by the band includes some strictly non-traditional blue notes which had me laughing pretty hard. The police arrive, and search the audience for "horse thieves." The selected individual ends up on stage being used for target practice for a guy with the a Hungarian horse whip, which he is able to crack at the guys side and then wrap around his waist, making it look like he is hitting the guy.

The wedding party makes their appearance, carrying the wagon tongue (you can’t steal a wagon without the wagon tongue). The dance music for the wedding is sung, primarily on "La’s." The cops are back, and being corrupt (they speak German), are bribed off. ("We were broke, but we were happy.") A large finale dance thing ensues. Vaida thanks everyone, the dancers, the band ("Does the band have a CD? You bet! But it’s f*^&#$g expensive. It looks like a coaster. What are you thinking, charging so much?") The cast dances one last tune, bringing people from the audience up (bodily carrying them if necessary). We kill the wine, and clap along. The end of a great, and very funny show. Thanks to Kazi and Zsuzsa, and Peter and Vera for taking us!

Dave

7/18, Kishegyes

We spent the morning getting groceries for the barbecue. First a trip to the local market, and then down to Topolya. Zia got her annual pair of clogs and Vera picked up produce. A little less fuss was made over us this week, so I had a little more time to look around.

You hear the word "mournful" used a lot to describe market sellers. But the guy at the front of the market, doing the sellers' Gregorian chant, did sound that way. I suppose people buy from him because they feel sorry for him. I saw a guy walking around with a "New Seasons Grocery" shirt today, but he wandered off before I got a chance to try and talk with him. I also saw an "Oregon" T-shirt that I am informed is the trade name of a popular brand of jeans. There are lots of weird brand names for jeans around here, "Fox Sports Jeans," "Cowboy Jeans," etc.


*****


Went by Lojos and Bori’s to invite them to the Barbecue and enjoy a glass of "K-ha-3 Mnnow" water. Zia says it is called "Knaz Milos" (knawz mee-losh), but I know what the label says, and it isn’t that. Bori, who has her younger grandchildren helping around the farm this summer is troubled by the death of the child in Kishegyes. Her grandkids play the same kinds of games.


*****


By the way, if you are looking for Kishegyes on the map, you won’t find it. That is the Hungarian name for town, meaning "small hill." The Serbian name is on the map. It is "Mali Idos" (molly ee-dosh). In a perfect world there is a little horizontal line across the vertical line of the "D."


*****


Lojos and Bori, Emese’s husband, Joe, and son Adam (Emese is at a teacher workshop), her parents Katie and Imre, and Beethoven-Basci and Mozart-Neni are here for dinner. Because you may be wondering; Beethoven-Basci was breeding two Saint Bernard dogs at the same time the movie came out. His real name, Laci, roughly the equivalent of Joe. Since there were lot’s of Laci’s, and the kids were having a hard time keeping them straight, he got to be Beethoven-Basci. He was, on the other hand, a fine gypsy fiddler. I will not get to hear him play this trip, however, as he is having medical problems that may cause him to have to stop all together.)

My Father-in-law is showing an astonishing repertoire of naughty stories and songs. Adam is getting quite a "History Lesson." (Every time Peter finishes a story or song, Joe, through his laughter says, "History lesson, son, history lesson.") I played a little trumpet for everyone, using the score for the new Hungarian thing I wrote for Z-Musicmakers and gave as a gift to Beethoven-Basci. Seems the book I found the tunes in has some minor flaws in the melodies of a couple of tunes. Beethoven-Basci promises to send me corrected versions (but I am not changing the chart, it is the way I like it, and it was written for Zia for a wedding present).

Dave