It'll all be okay

I am not the kind of person who just goes with the flow. I like definite plans, I like feeling in control. Meeting at 10pm outside the Great Portland Street underground station: that is a definite plan I can easily live with. Especially when an underground station only has one exit. Usually, even if I am unsure, I can just pick up the phone and call. I know exactly one person who does not have a cell phone. However, there are some other rare situations when people can't use cell phones. 10 years ago this would not have been very stressful; it used to be totally ok. But now, who can live without a cell phone? When someone tells me "Don't worry, it's gonna work out" I usually cringe: it doesn't always work out ok! I am, however, determined to go with the flow more. After all, there are situations in which we cannot and should not have complete control and I better get used to that. And sometimes, just maybe, when something is meant to work out, then it just does. Gotta have some faith in it.

One time not too long ago, I was meeting a friend after a competition. Foreign city, no cell phones, thousands of people and darkness. He said let's meet by the river, near the wake-boarders, there is a small grassy area across, and some restaurants, it's really near the exit, you can't miss it! Um, ok. Suppressing my usual neurotic self, I tried to not worry; at least not show it. Ok, ok, I said, I will be there.

A few hours before the meeting time, I was heading to the competition. I got on the wrong train, which I noticed quickly and got off at the first station, with the intention of taking the train back one stop and finding the right train. However, I was in a rush to meet some other people, and when I got off the train, I noticed I wasn't the only one lost. There was a small group of people looking around in confusion: we were all directed towards the exit where signs informed us that we can walk to our destination in 15 minutes. So we all took off in a group and followed the signs. In a few minutes, our destination was already visible across a little bay. When we got to the bay, I noticed a bunch of wake-boarders. Then a little grassy area. Restaurants. Ok, this must be where I have to be in a few hours. But wait, it's not just not near the exit, but in the complete opposite direction! I stood there thinking for a few minutes. Does my friend have a bad sense of direction? I know I have a great sense of direction, so I decided to trust my instincts: this must be the place.

I didn't think much about the whole thing until a few hours later, when I was getting ready to walk there. Going towards the exit, I ran right into my friend. Oh hey, listen, are you sure this place is towards the exit? No, I guess not, oh well, good thing you know where it is, I thought it was in the other direction.

The point of the story is, well, if I hadn't gotten on the wrong train, I would have most likely never found the wake-boarders and the grassy area in the dark. And if I hadn't run into my friend later on, he most likely wouldn't have found it. But I have to admit that everything worked out as well as it could have. Maybe, just maybe, when something's meant to work out, then it just does. I need to have more faith.

Parting

"I can't describe to you how surprised I was to find out I loved her, old sport. I even hoped for a while that she'd throw me over, but she didn't, because she was in love with me too. She thought I knew a lot because I knew different things from her... Well, there I was, way off my ambitions, getting deeper in love every minute, and all of a sudden I didn't care. What was the use of doing great things if I could have a better time telling her what I was going to do?" 

On the last afternoon before he went abroad, he sat with Daisy in his arms for a long, silent time. It was a cold fall day, with fire in the room and her cheeks flushed. Now and then she moved and he changed his arm a little, and once he kissed her dark shining hair. The afternoon had made them tranquil for a while, as if to give them a deep memory for the long parting the next day promised. They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers. Gently, as though she were asleep. 

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

London welcomes the world

Wow, I was at the Olympics! It's still hard to believe. What an amazing few days! I don't know if I can write very cohesively about it; I had so many impressions, little experiences, I'll try to remember some now.

The arrival was very smooth. On the plane from Budapest, I overheard several people talking about the chaos that London is going to be. A British couple next to me talked about it the entire flight: "I just hope we make it home ok, I am gonna be so mad if there are crowds everywhere!" I think the general opinion of Londoners was that they needed these Olympics like a hole in the head. Well, it turns out that London was relatively empty. At passport check at Stansted airport, I was my own line. On the train to Central London, I had a whole car to myself. On the underground, I sat the whole time. No chaos, quite the opposite indeed. Thousands of volunteers all over the city (all but one I interacted with were very nice but not always very helpful), amazing organization - for example, many train stations around the olympic sites were made one-way: one station for entrance, one for exit. This way, the crowds are never going at each other, only nicely flowing in one direction. I was not too happy though when they would not let me enter an empt train station to get onto the trian I needed one monring. Oh well, in 10 minutes, I walked to the next one.

ExCel is the largest convention center I have ever been in. Since it was also one way, and the fencing venue was in one end, I got to walk the whole length of the building, several times. Took about 15 minutes from one end to the next. There were 7 sports in ExCel, fencing being one of them. The morning I had a ticket for went smoothly too. The trains were crowded, but mostly because it was morning rush hour. Security was like at an airport except that the people in charge were very nice. Everyone got a "Welcome to the Olympics" smile, the volunteers were chatting with people in line, it was rather pleasant. Once inside, I realized I could no longer leave. One ticket was only for one entry. Considering how large the arena was and how small the fencing area, I was a little upset about that. I wish I walked around some more before entering the fencing section, but anyway, it wasn't the end of the world. Of course, each area had all the essentials: food, beer, bathrooms and souvenir shop. For most of the morning, I was in and out of the venue. Watched a round of fencing, then went out to try to find people I knew. There were a few. Some unexpected. It's funny when you run into people you know at the Olympics. At one point, I was just sitting around, waiting for a friend when the guy sitting next to me turned to me: "Don't you think fencing is rather boring? I wish I had gotten tennis tickets!" I looked at him puzzled, thinking why anybody who doesn't know fencing would come to watch it. All I could say was that the next round should be a lot more exciting. I doubt he thought so.

For me, it wasn't that different from another fencing tournament. Of course, the atmosphere was amazing, but there was no Hungarian team to cheer for, and the US girls, some of whom I knew a little, lost early on. For the rest of the day, I was cheering for the referees, and whoever was fencing the Italians. I managed to get a last minute ticket for the finals, which were pretty exciting. Italy versus Russia. We sat right in the middle of the Italian cheering section - although I think the whole arena was a gigantic Italian cheering section. Every time the Italians scored, there was a minute of screaming, flag waving, craziness!! They have a crazy strong team in women's foil: they took gold, silver and bronze in the individual, and then won the gold pretty easily in the team even as well. They are nearly unbeatable at this time. I was so proud of my friend who refereed this final with class and confidence!

A word about the official Olympic goodies: I would be so happy to just get all the great outfits the participants received! The referee suits looked nice, the volunteers wore purple themed uniforms while the officials had blue ones. There were Adidas tennis shoes with London2012 logos, umbrellas, bags, all really fun and nice! I managed to score an umbrella and am pretty happy about it :)

The general atmosphere in London was very special. It really did feel like London was welcoming the world. According to some locals I spoke to, more Londoners tried to leave the city for these three weeks. I think it's insane! If I lived in a city that hosted the Olympics, I would invite all my friends to come stay with me and try to get as many tivűckets as I could. But that's just me. The mayor managed to scare half the city into leaving, with all the talk of chaos before the games began. So walking around in the city, if really felt like the only people there were somehow involved in the Olympics. Every other person I passed on the street had an accreditation pass around their necks, was wearing national warm-ups or flags. There were more languages spoken in London than on any given day in NYC. One evening, I went out to Hyde Park for a run. It was my second time running there: about a month ago, I went for a lap with Daniel one weekday night: then, it was pretty empy, not like an evening with good weather in Central Park. This time around, however, the park seemed like a buzzing, crazy Central Park. Part of Hyde Park is set up as a huge spectator cheering zone. There are large screens and anyone can go for free to watch among thousands of other people. I can imagine the atmosphere there.

I never realized that the Brits were so patriotic! So many people were wearing the British jerseys, flags, tattoos on their faces. It was good to see so many of them cheering in the fencing venue for the mediocre women's foil team, also out on the streets when I went to watch a little bit of the women's triathlon and marathons. When the British athletes were running or biking past the crowd, everyone was going absolutely nuts! It seems to be working because the British team is doing awesome, third in the medal standings currently. 

One night I went to a party with my friend, Jeff. He is quite international himself: an American who grew up in many countries, went to college in Chicago, and settled in London afterwords. He has a super international group of friends in London too. The party he invited me to was hosted by a Japanese-American and a New Zelander. There were people from every corner of the world. Naturally, everyone was talking about the Olympics. One guy who was British but probably from an Indian family volunteered at the opening ceremony: he was a dancer in the "current music" section. Another girl I spoke to was from Italy: she said she loved fencing! I was intrigued. I asked if she fenced. No, never. But in Italy, fencing is a star sport! Valentina Vezzali is a national hero. Everyone knows that Elisa Di Francisca just won two gold medals. She said she watched on TV and it was very exciting. For someone who had never fenced, she knew about the rules and the people like someone who has been involved in the sport for years. Later on, the heptathlon final was on TV, with Jessica Ennis being the favorite before the final event, the 800m run. I had even heard of Ennis before, who was profiled in some video I watched months ago as a rising star in athletics; also a very sweet charming young girl. When her final was abou to start, nearly EVERYONE at the party crowded around the one TV in the flat and cheered for her as if we were all British. She won by a lot and we all watched her make her many victory laps, wrapped in the gigantic British flag. What a great moment!

The marathon course in front of Buckingham Palace:

Caught just a glimpse of the runners:

More marathon course:

Overall, what an experience! Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. To me, the Olympics represents so many of the things that matter: not just athletics, but hard work and perseverance, people with common interests coming together, people from all over the world coming together. It brings people together. Literally and metaphorically. And for a few days, I felt like a really tiny part of it. 

Pretty

We can love someone so deeply but they may not be the place to invest our lives. On the other hand, just because you can't invest your life in that person doesn't mean you shouldn't or can't love them. It simply means we understand the extent of what we can invest in our love for them. Love does not automatically render the responsibility and strength needed to uphold a life commitment. Be careful who you give your life to because those days, moments and hours can never be returned... but love whomever you please.

Jada Pinkett Smith

Around Europe

Hamburg, London, Prague. 10 days. Many friends. I had been to all these cities before; this time it was more about cathcing up with friends and family I hadn't seen in a while. And trying to experience each of these places as those who live there do. I was so pleasantly surprised about Hamburg. I never imagined I would like a city in Germany this much. But I did. It's modern, organized, livable, green, half the city rides bikes, there are parks and lakes and channels and as soon as the temperature goes above 20C, everyone is outside, wine festival, beach bars, jogging by the river. One day I borrowed my friend's bike and felt like a local, riding on the many bike paths (almost all the streets I saw have bike lanes on the sidewalks, which are wide enough for bikers and pedestrians to share, without the constant danger of being run over by cars). The suburbs are lovely too: my brother lives in a little town called Buchholz. It's a 25 minute train ride from the center of Hamburg, on a train that looks like it's from a sci-fi (especially being used to New York and Budapest transportation). The town is neat, walkable, cute. From the edge of the forest, you can walk to the center in 10-15 minutes. There is a market on the main square, cute little shops and restaurants and most importantly, it's lively! It's nothing like an American suburb. You don't have to drive everywhere, shop in the mall or even worse, the strip malls! And you can be in the forest in 5 minutes (however, I have to admit that 2 days there was more than enough for me).

Hamburg

London is London. Not much more to say about that. It's as much of a metropolis as New York is. I love the pubs, the buses, the Olympics buzz! I was also busy trying to see as many people as I could fit into 3 days. One of the days I spent there started with a running race, the British 10K. This time, I was a spectator, and was cheering for Daniel (except I only cought sight of his back once as there were 30 thousand runners!). I tried to follow the route as long as I could, through Trafalgar Square and in front of the Buckingham Palace. I have to say, even though nothing can beat the NYC marathon route as it turns onto 1st Ave from the Queensboro Bridge, but this might come close. After the race, we met up with another good friend from Hungary for a wonderful lunch. Drinking cider at a pub all afternoon, while watching Wimbledon was kind of tiring. Dinner with another couple of friends in a different part of town, then off to meet yet another friend, not to waste a moment! And this pretty much repeated for 2 more days. Since when are all my friends in London??

London

Since I'll be going back for the Olympics in a couple of weeks, maybe I'll write about that later, but oh my god, the whole thing is so exciting! I guess, always having been an athlete, I feel that the Olympics have a special meaning. Being around the Olympic Park, seeing the preparations, some of the athletes who had already arrived there, it put a huge smile on my face. When I started fencing at the age of 7, it was very clear that the goal was to make olympians out of all of us. Of course, not everyone can make the Olympics, but the philosophy used to be just that. It became clear some years later that I wasn't destined for the Olympics; I was not at all heartbroken about that. Even now, being so close to the event, I never think about it as something I could have reached. Nontheless, it's super exciting to be there, just as a spectator, just to see and feel the buzz.


Prague was lovely too. I felt like it was a smaller and more sterile version of Budapest. It's beautiful but I prefer the atmosphere of Budapest. However, catching up with my friend Jana was so nice, her two little girls are so adorable!

Around Prague

What can I say?  I could see myself in either Hamburg or London. One day maybe, who knows? For now, sticking to NYC :)

New Budapest

I have been home for a little over two weeks now. I've been in no rush this time; I don't need to see everyone I know in and around Budapest in 10 or 14 days. So I've been walking slower, doing less, watching more, observing things. Here are some I found particularly striking.

In Budapest

No rush. People stop at the red lights waiting for it to turn green before crossing the street. People stand on the escalator going up and down to and nobody tries to push you to the side to get down to the arriving train. At first it drove me crazy to just stand there while I heard the train coming but then I realized that most of the time, the next train arrives within 5 minutes. For those 5 minutes, I can watch the news on the screens on the walls of some of the metro stations.

In New York

No Confrontation. In New York people will do anything to avoid direct confrontation. Sometimes I feel that everyone lives in a bubble and moves through life protecting that bubble at any cost. As soon as someone as much as grazes that bubble, they move over just enough to feel protected again. A few months ago, I was on the 6 train going downtown and there was a man sitting next to me who was trying all of his ringtones on his new phone. Very loudly. It was super frustrating. I saw several people glaring at him angrily, shaking their heads, but nobody said a thing. I kept imagining that I would come up with something witty to say to him and then he would suddenly feel really bad about what he was doing and everyone else on the train would be very thankful to me.

In Budapest

Confrontation. Earlier this week I was on the 6 tram (the only piece of public transportation that has air conditioning) when someone's phone rang. An older man next to me answered the phone and started talking rather loudly. He probably had a hard time hearing. It was pretty annoying, no doubt, but I didn't expect people to get aggressive. They did all right. Two younger man practically started screaming at the man on the phone; soon it turned into a shouting match, not a few profanities included. It went on for two whole stops. I moved to the back of the tram, then got off.

Maybe connected to this is the observation that people here - and in Europe in general I think - are warmer, easier to become friends with. Even though on average and I spend about 2 or 3 weeks a year in Budapest, in the past few years, I have made a number of new friends here. Some of them I met through friends while visiting, some I met while they were visiting in New York, but either case, I have always found it easier to make friends here. Most recently, a friend of a friend was in New York for work and the three of us met for dinner one night and had a great time. At the end of the night, the friend mentioned that we should get in touch when I am in Budapest and should go running together. When this kind of thing happens with an American, my first assumption always is that they didn't really mean that; it's sort of a curtesy, a nice (but often superficial) thing to say you want to hang out with a person again even if you have no intention of ever doing so. Not the case in Hungary. If someone doesn't like you, NO WAY they will ever tell you to let's hang out. No games. It's more simple. So, we didn't end u going running because it's been way too hot lately but we did get coffee one day and have plans to have a beer this week.

Less work, more play. In my old (weird to say that) lab, I often tried to get people to go get some drinks after work, relax, chat, eat a bite together before heading home for the night. On the rare occasion that this succeeded it always took hours to get people together to be able to leave. People work hard, I understand, but I wish that people were a little more spontaneous and social. In Budapest, there are hundreds if not more outdoor cases and pubs, scattered all over the city. On any given evening, weekday or not, people are sitting, drinking, talking, enjoying themselves. Even in this heat wave. I wish there were more places like those in New York.

PDA (public display of affection). Monday night around 9pm, at the center of the city, tram stop. A woman dressed in a very short dress with a man in a suit. Both in their 30s most likely. Not teenagers. I was standing there writing a text, not paying attention to what's going on around me. I looked up and suddenly realized that they were practically having sex right next to me. I must have stared for a while, but they didn't seem to care one bit, so I just moved a little further from them. When the tram arrived I got on and sat down. Right across from me, a young couple, teenagers this time. Girl sitting on boy's lap, I can see her panties. Mostly because his hand is practically in her panties. Nobody payes them any attention. In my youth, I remembered, I was guilty of similar displays of affection. Not something you often see in the US. I like the expression "get a room!".

AC. America is crazy about air conditioning. They cannot imagine living without it. When I first moved to Kansas 12 years ago, I probably hadn't ever experienced AC before. And we had hot summers all right. Hot summers with fencing camp. Hot summers dressed head to toe and wearing a mask. I never thought it was that bad. Then I arrived in Kansas. During my first week there it was near 100F (~40C) and we were going camping near the Ozarks in Missouri. Nearly everyone there was dying of the heat. I was all right. Everyone commented on it. I was simply used to it. Now, I am not. In NYC, and everywhere else in the US, you absolutely have to carry a sweater with you even in the biggest heat waves. Black-outs are not uncommon because people turn up their ACs so high that the electric grid can't handle it anymore. When you step into a subway car from the boiling heat of the NYC subway platforms, the temperature drops nearly 30F! That's insane! The EU actually has laws regarding how much a difference is allowed between outside and inside temperatures. It's bad for your health to go from 100F to 70F and then back to 100F within a few minutes. And it's a huge waste of energy. With that said, right now, I am craving for a freezing subway car! However, the few places in Budapest that have AC are actually at a normal temperature. You walk in in a short summer dress and suddenly, you are comfortable. Not freezing. It took me a week to remember to leave my sweater home when going out. I like this. I think it's way healthier too. Today though, I checked whether the restaurant we are going to for lunch has AC before deciding it was a go. Even with that, I am leaving my sweater home.

As cities go, there are some really great things about both New York and Budapest. If there was a way to combine all the good things and make a great New Budapest, I would move there in a heartbeat! For now, New York and Budapest will do. And lots of other cities too, some of which I am about to visit in the coming weeks. Here I come, Hamburg, London and Prague!

Some pictorial evidence:

A little bit of Moscow in Budapest - aka Die Hard 5 set

NOT politically correct

Barnes & Noble has much to learn - Budapest bookstore cafe

Small country, BIG government

Hunglish

You can sail in waist-deep water too

Evening chilling

Stories

The animation I posted the other day with the triangles and circle and box, I saw that at a really cool lecture I went to over the weekend. The Heider-Simmel study was conducted back in the 1940's; most people, when watching this animation, explain "behavior" of the geometrical objects in a way that it fits into a social situation. Most people see in it complex interpersonal information with emotions without being prompted. Simply put, they see a story.

Here is what I, and most people, saw: little triangle (man) is with circle (woman), they are in love. Big triangle (second man) comes into the picture and tries to seduce circle - he tries to break up their relationship. For a while, it seems that big triangle succeeds: he manages to get circle into the room with him, corners her, but she doesn't give in, she keeps resisting. Eventually, little triangle (I, and Jeffrey Eugenides, thought this was a third man, most others seemed to have thought this one to be the original man) appears and circle happily leaves big triangle to run off with small triangle, and they live happily ever after.

The point of the lecture wasn't actually to look at a love triangle between triangles and a circle; rather, it was about the science of story telling (or the way it was phrased, The science of narrative - if you have some time, watch the children telling their stories, they are very cute and the stories rather interesting). Besides Jeffrey Eugenides, whose Middlesex is one of my favorite novels, Joyce Carol Oates was also on the panel. I have never actually read any of her writing, but have once worked with a doctor who went to Princeton as an undergrad, studied creative writing under her mentoring, and ended up publishing a couple of novels (before deciding to take the more lucrative career path of becoming a doctor). As a side-note, she also mentored Jonathan Safran Foer during his Princeton years, who, unlike my friend, very wisely decided to chose the less lucrative path to success, and aren't we all glad he did!

So, why do we tell stories? Is it an evolutionary adaptation, or maybe a byproduct of having too large brains? Does it have something to do with language or culture? What happens in our brains when we listen to stories? Do stories change us? These were just some of the issues being discussed at the panel, by the two novelists and three psychologists. Fascinating.

I love to read, and write. I mostly read stories about imaginary people (some about real people too) and write stories about or inspired by my own day to day life. For me, I used to think that these two activities serve different purposes. But maybe not. Sometimes I read as an escape; living in a story that is not my own life can be liberating. Sometimes, I want to identify with something, or someone, in a story. Reading about a person I feel I resemble makes me feel part of something. Sometimes, what I read changes my thinking, my behavior. One of the psychologists on the panel talked about the fact that people who read a lot of fiction are generally better at inter-personal communication, at identifying social cues; better at being social animals. Perhaps because so many social situations we would never encounter in our real lives are presented to us in stories.

Writing, for me, helps sort out convoluted thoughts in my head. Before something becomes ready to be written down, it needs to be organized, digested and comprehended. The myriad of thoughts and emotions that appear seemingly out of nowhere (or as a response to circumstances) can become very disruptive if not sorted through. At least that's what I have found since starting to write this blog. Something about the process of writing it all down (or out) reduces the confusion inside. The end result: I feel better! No better proof than the fact that I have been more or less consistently writing on here for years now. It also teaches me so much about myself. For example, just a moment ago, I wrote "I often have trouble keeping up new hobbies". Then I thought about that. Why do I think I have trouble keeping up new hobbies? Of the new new things I started doing over the last few years, I actually did keep up running, volunteering and writing regularly, which is not so bad. Sure, there are a few things I didn't follow up on: after going to Spain, I got very excited about learning Spanish, bought a few books, but never made it past the first chapter; for a while, I did yoga pretty regularly, which, over the past year or so, I could not keep up (maybe in med school I will need it more!). Sure, there are other things too, but overall, not so bad. I am not the kind of person who starts something, gets bored quickly, and quits. And I would have probably never thought about that unless I was writing about it.

There was also discussion at the lecture about why we often make up dark stories. One of the psychologists called it "trouble": stories always have some trouble element, he said.We, as a species, love apocalypse stories, war stories, stories of all kinds of hardships, murder mysteries, stories about people who get sick and so on. While I daydream - which is very often - I most often come up with stories that involve me in some future situation that's really rough. What if I was kidnapped by some foreign government and forced to become a spy for them (just one extreme example)? Apparently, imagining these difficult future situations prepares up for possible crazy things that could come up in life. It makes sense! Imagining an apocalypse, for example, people think of all kinds of different ways to deal with it - while, most likely we would all just be dead in case of one, but it's nice to imagine ourselves to be among the few survivors - and thus, might actually be better prepared in case it does come one day in the near future (like this year maybe!). I used to think there was something wrong with me, coming up with some crazy scenarios in my head, of the most unlikely of hardships I would encounter in the future. Apparently, most people do this! It's a relief, really.

I wish I had taken some writing classes in college, when I had a chance. I wish I had done many things differently in college, but oh well, I am just glad I didn't screw up any worse. At 18, one's just way too young to realize what an amazing opportunity it is to be able to take any class, learn anything at all, even if it's completely outside one's major. But maybe back then, I would not have been captivated by it; I could have been too immature. Maybe one day, I'll take a creative writing class, maybe with Joyce Carol Oates or Jeffrey Eugenides, wouldn't that be so cool??!!