Soviets, Shabbes, and Prague Pt I

Hello loyal blog readers-- I apologize for our long time apart. A combination of God's law (Friday night-Saturday) and faulty Eastern European Internet service (Saturday night- now) has kept us apart. But no longer.

On Friday, Zak and I visited the Soviet Statue Park. When the USSR fell, Budapest (like most Eastern bloc cities) was left with a plethora of statues of Marx, Lenin, Stalin and other fun guys in all their public squares. Rather than destroying them, aspiring Budapest capitalists relocated them to a dusty, ugly park outside of the town limits. Today they charge people lots of money to go see them and to buy Communist-era knick-knacks. Oh, the triumph of freedom!

It took us approximately three hours to get there-- not because it is so far away, but only because we managed to get on the wrong bus four different times. At least we got to see significant parts of the backwaters of Budapest in the process. By the time we had finished a few winding drives through concrete, bunker-like apartment buildings and bleak, run-down bus stations, we were already getting the feel of Hungary under Papa Joe. It was good for setting the mood.

We entered the park through large, brick gates, flanked by statues of Lenin and Marx. The Internationale was playing on a boom-box (I still know all the words, thanks Mom!) We picked up guidebook, and spent the next forty-five minutes learning about the heroes who defended the Hungarian State against "outside agitators" in the 1956 uprising and various stern-looking men and women carrying agricultural implements and permanent righteous scowls. It was really quite something. We left to the strains of Avante Papalo (the Italian Communist anthem, to which I only know the HaShomer Hatzair parody version. Again, thanks Mom!)

We made it back to the City just in time for Shabbat services at the Great Synagogue. While our tour had been lacking in substance, I was really looking forward to going back there to daven. Alas, it was the most High Church service I have ever attended-- complete with a huge organ, a choir sequestered in a box high above the bima, and a cantor wearing a ridiculous cantor hat. For the first fifteen minutes I was appreciating the service from a cultural point of view-- after that, I wanted out.

The evening was saved when Zak went and got a bottle of wine, which we proceeded to split in the little courtyard outside our hostel. We talked for a couple hours and really had a wonderful time. I learned quite a lot about him, and I think he may have learned something about me. No joke here-- it was beautiful.

Shabbat day was very slow. I didn't have any interest in going back to that shul-- so we both stayed in bed until quite late. Zak is totally engaged in a novel I lent him, so he had no interest in going out for a walk in the afternoon-- so I went solo. I explored the main Basilica of Budapest-- which contains St. Stephan's mummified hand-- and walked a few of the main streets of the city that we had yet to reach together.

So far, keeping Shabbat and kashrut while traveling has not been overly difficult. I have maintained basically the same kashrut standards that I have in the States-- however, it is difficult to ask the kind of detailed questions I typically ask when the wait staff rarely speaks much English. It is possible that I have eaten something that I shouldn't-- but on the whole, I have fared quite well in this very carnivorous part of the world. Shabbat, too, has not been overly difficult-- a little boring, but not too challenging. I continue to work very hard at trying to integrate my halakhic commitments with a desire to live in the world and not to miss out on all the experiences that are out there. I am not always perfect-- but I genuinely enjoy the challenge.

This morning, we packed up and caught the train to Prague. It is a seven-hour ride, which can get a bit tedious; however, I had my New Yorker and lovely scenery, and Zak had his novel, so we made it through.

The hostel in Prague is nice-- much cleaner and more professionally run than the one in Budapest. The room is big and airy, there is a nice little garden courtyard, and there are no bloodstains on the walls (don't ask.) This evening we walked around town and started to get acquainted with yet another new city. The main drag feels very touristy and sort of dirty, but the little, winding streets are nice. I am looking forward to exploring more thoroughly tomorrow.