February 6, 2010

When I was a little boy my parents and I used to go on summer vacations down to the countryside. My Mother and I stayed for several weeks while my Father came down on weekends.

I know we did this before and also after the war. The usual thing was to rent a room in some farmer's house and that was always a lot of fun for me. There were farm animals, I was allowed to play around them and the fresh air was good.

There was a particular village at Lake Balaton that had absolutely no glamour at all but was a popular vacation spot with middle class Jewish families.

Aside from my family, my Father's two brothers with their families went there all the time. As it happened my Mother and Father met there because their families used to vacation at this place.

I have a friend here in New York who's family also used to vacation there. So, as it turned out this was a hugely popular place.

Early spring on a particular Sunday, every year the train from Budapest - nobody had cars back then - brought an influx of prospective vacationers. The ones in the know headed to their usual places while the new comers wandered around the village looking for the right house to rent.

I loved this place. When I got older, like four - five years old I was allowed to go out to the fields with the farmer and "help" him with his chores. The house we stayed a lot had cows, chickens and pigs.

The farmer used to go out with his cart pulled by his two cows. This was not unusual in those days. I loved to sit up front with him and shoot the breeze while the cows slowly plodded their way through the roads. I was never afraid of any animal so being near and handling these was not a problem.

The odor was not always the most pleasant on these journeys, since I was not the lead dog, but I got used to it.

Other times my Mother and I went down to the lake to the public beach where we met up with my cousins and other people and had a great time. I was five or six years old, what did I know of what was waiting for us in the future.

I have to mention that our place did not have indoor plumbing. We had to use the outhouse, which aside from the flies was fun and we brought our water in from the well they had in the garden. But they did have electricity.

A note: the outhouse and the well were sufficiently away from each other.

As is the accepted practice in this country too, certain occupations or trades are the domains of certain nationalities.

In Hungary back then outhouse cleaning was the domain of the gypsies. They came to the house, climbed down into the cesspool that was a lot less civilized than today's treated stuff and cleaned it out. I always liked to watch that procedure. Actually everything done on a farm used to interest my five year old mind.

My Father was a very good soccer player in his young days. His family used to vacation in this village for many years. He got to know the local boys of his age and was accepted by them very quickly because of his soccer know how.

He was telling me that most of these boys played barefoot since shoes were kind of luxury for them. Coming from the big city he played with shoes on but these boys had such tough feet that their kicks were good and strong.

When we went back for our summers he knew a lot of the men from their younger days and he was treated with respect and love. I was very proud of him.

On Saturdays we all went to the train station because around noon the Budapest train arrived and all the fathers were there. That was one of the few days of the week when the train station was crowded.

All the mothers with their kids waiting for their husbands. Then Sunday afternoon the entire process in reverse. They were leaving.

Back then a trip to the lake by train took about four hours even though it was only a hundred miles.

I always loved the train ride down there. Back then we had steam engines on most of the train lines. The cars were warm so all the windows were open. I loved to hang out the windows like dog from the car except my tongue was not flapping in the wind.

Steam engines spew soot from their chimneys and all the soot always found its way into my hair. By the time we got home my hair was so thick with soot that it was impossible to comb it, it had to be washed out. And any soot that didn't land in my hair got into my eyes. Boy, was I stupid kid or what?

Two years ago we were visiting Hungary and drove down there (I drove) in less then two hours. Clean driving, no soot at all.

The world is becoming smaller and smaller.