Thursday, July 07, 2005
Gül Baba
On Isil's last day in Budapest we finally took in Buda with all its hills and monuments. We took a stroll in the Buda castle area and finally indulged in cakes at Ruswurm, an antique pastry store. I am somewhat disheartened by how poor is my knowledge of Budapest trivia (though Gabor says that's all just particularistic knowledge, and thus useless), or that I was plain ignorant about certain things. Like I kept telling Isil how our beautiful Matthias church (http://www.matyas-templom.hu/eng/) was desacrated in the 16th century by those damn Turks but at least they left beautiful Turkish or muslim decorations all over the church walls. So I sent her in to the church to meet her history but she saw no remains of Turkish art. So to correct my mistake, here is the truth: "Visitors accustomed to the Gothic style characteristic for Western Europe may find the interior ornamental painting and the richness of its shapes and colours unusual: this is a phenomenon which could only emerge at the borderline of West and East. Preserved remains showed that the church had been painted in the Middle Ages, and not only with figures but with a carpet-like ornamental painting with geometrical and tendril patterns."
We kept visiting places yesterday that offer amazing views of the Danube, bridges and Pest. To honor what Turks left as heritage for Hungarians after their 150 year rule, we visited the tomb and grave of Gül Baba (the Father of Roses), who was member of the bektasi sect, tolerant and meek, and widely respected by even Hungarians. His tomb is still a holy place, a place of pilgrimage. I was touched by the sereness of the area. On our way down we saw a traditionally clad muslim (?) woman, speaking fluent Hungarian. It is weird to think that me and Isil may be coming from a shared gene pool and culture. So many of our words are the same in Turkish.
We caught some of the sunset on Gellert Hill at the Statue of Liberty that so graciously tops the city, windblown but steady. The night before we went to see a retro movie of Budapest - shots of propaganda, ads, etc. from the 1960-70s. The statue of liberty was a prominent character in communist celebrations of liberty. Climbing up the hill brought back memories of my childhood: the huge slides on the playground (that no longer work for us that well but we blamed it on wearing jeans) and the weird awe of standing at the communist sculptures up on the top. This awe was still there! I felt so proud of Budapest, even its history and my youth.
We descended from Gellert Hill to have beer with friends at Erzsebet pressszo, where the hill's foot meets the Erzsebet bridge. I am telling you, I am famous already.
We kept visiting places yesterday that offer amazing views of the Danube, bridges and Pest. To honor what Turks left as heritage for Hungarians after their 150 year rule, we visited the tomb and grave of Gül Baba (the Father of Roses), who was member of the bektasi sect, tolerant and meek, and widely respected by even Hungarians. His tomb is still a holy place, a place of pilgrimage. I was touched by the sereness of the area. On our way down we saw a traditionally clad muslim (?) woman, speaking fluent Hungarian. It is weird to think that me and Isil may be coming from a shared gene pool and culture. So many of our words are the same in Turkish.
We caught some of the sunset on Gellert Hill at the Statue of Liberty that so graciously tops the city, windblown but steady. The night before we went to see a retro movie of Budapest - shots of propaganda, ads, etc. from the 1960-70s. The statue of liberty was a prominent character in communist celebrations of liberty. Climbing up the hill brought back memories of my childhood: the huge slides on the playground (that no longer work for us that well but we blamed it on wearing jeans) and the weird awe of standing at the communist sculptures up on the top. This awe was still there! I felt so proud of Budapest, even its history and my youth.
We descended from Gellert Hill to have beer with friends at Erzsebet pressszo, where the hill's foot meets the Erzsebet bridge. I am telling you, I am famous already.
