On Beyond Budapest

About two weeks ago, the Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Years') holiday created a five-day weekend from school. These don't come along too often, and a forward-thinking colleague of mine started booking tickets to Hungary for the break.

The single greatest thing about short trips around Europe is the cumulative effect of cheap flights, short flight times, and minimal body-clock changes. It reminds me of the alchemy of taking the subway in New York: a short amount of time turns into an enormous geographic change.

Budapest is a stunning city. Architecturally, historically and culturally rich, and flat enough to walk around all day. The long arterial boulevards with formal architecture remind me very much of Washington, D.C., and the way the sunlight traces its way through the streets makes the city have a different look at all hours.


Walking was the main activity of the trip for me, but some other highlights:

• The local opera company put on a production of three Stravinsky chamber operas (modern-sounding 20th century stuff), to which I got a rush ticket the evening I arrived. All three were $12 for the most expensive seat in the house, and the productions were astounding -- music, costumes, vitality, you name it -- one of the operas was the famous "L'historie du Soldat" where a travelling soldier meets the devil on the way home from war. All the dialogue was in Hungarian, but the stories mostly made sense (After getting tricked, I think the soldier finally thwarts the devil by rigging a game of cards, but I could be wrong.) During one of the operas, the entire chorus burst out into the audience and began booing and throwing vegetables at the orchestra in one of the many "meta" and convention-destroying moments of the evening. This is something I'll remember forever.
• Goulash. It's awesome! Paprika is a national treasure in Hungary, and is also used in their delicious house sausage (which was more than reminiscent of Betty's, and made me homesick for the time during family meal.)
• Late-night beer on the boulevards. Autumn begins to get chilly in Eastern Europe, and one restaurant provided blankets with their outdoor seating:
• 

• Taking the subway and train to visit a nearby arts town, Szentendre. Didn't buy anything, but took in the fresh air and wonderful churches and meandering streets.
• A traditional folk dance concert in town with local dancers and musicians. They have dulcimer, violin, and clarinet players the likes of which you've never seen.

There's more, but I'll link two quick-loading Facebook albums here so you can take your own walking tour. It's easy to get caught up in _doing_ things in another country, when a lot of the fun is found in just being there.

Album 1

Album 2

Finally, a picture of me looking rather arch in a restaurant in Jokai square:


And, next time, a story about a desert.

Security

Israel is almost exactly the size of New Jersey. Over half of that area is the largely uninhabited Negev desert in the southern half of the country, separating Egypt and Jordan.

Israel is also surrounded on at least three sides by sworn enemies who abhor its existence as an independent state. The fourth side is the Mediterranean Sea, which, as of this writing, is a neutral power.

A country in this scenario takes its security very, very seriously.

While I am only just now writing about Israeli security, it is the first thing any traveler will notice, and long before they ever enter the country.

When I flew from Seattle to Atlanta en route to Tel Aviv on September 30th, I went through the usual security checkpoints -- metal detector, shoes off, luggage through the machine. In Atlanta, I needed to change planes.

At the international gate for flights to Israel, everyone and their luggage goes through a second identical security screening before boarding the aircraft. When the aircraft is within one hour of Israeli airspace, the instruction is given by ground control that everyone must remain seated with their seat belt fastened and that there is to be no moving in the cabin whatever. By deduction, this is partly due to the fact that Israel is a very narrow country -- about 8 miles wide in the most densely populated region -- and the ability to land in a neighboring country if something goes awry on the plane is not a viable option.

Once off the plane, I had a letter of introduction from the school, and getting through security was surprisingly easy.

Now, the bizarre part: getting out of Israel is three times harder than getting in.

Some colleagues and I flew to Budapest for the Jewish new years' break (which I will write about later this week). Before obtaining my boarding pass, there was a security checkpoint with a metal detector, X-ray machine, and two security officers around solely for questioning. Some of the questions:

Why are you in Israel?
Do you have friends or family here?
Do you speak any Hebrew?
Where do you work?
Are you coming back?
Why are you traveling for only four days?
Did you pack your own bag?

My answers must have been satisfactory, because I was able to pass through. The teacher I was traveling with had the same destination, visa, and employer, but was taken to the back room for a more thorough search. After getting the boarding pass, there is a secondary checkpoint where your passport and ticket are checked, and you are given a number. My number was 1. I later learned that 1 is the least rigorous security check rating you can be given.

I proceeded to line 1, where I walked through another metal detector and my bags were run through another X-ray. Then a very pleasant security office came over to me and said: "You have four electronic devices in your backpack. Please remove them for me." After I removed and identified my camera, iPod, etc, they were swabbed with the bomb residue detector, as was every internal pocket on each piece of my luggage and the bottoms of my shoes.

All clear, I proceeded to the security checkpoint where they actually stamped passports and asked a few more questions. Then I was clear to get to the gate.

In addition to the above, once in Israel, you will go through a metal detector to enter any mall or movie theater. When driving into any parking garage, you will be asked whether you have a gun and your trunk will be checked. Every large store has an armed guard at the door checking bags. Every field trip I've taken with the school has a medic toting a rifle on each bus. Every man and woman does compulsory military service for at least two years after graduating from high school and one month a year for the majority of their lives thereafter, which means the entire nation can be (and has been) mobilized at a moment's notice by an electronic calling system in the event of a threat.


And I'm not entirely certain of the point of this post, except to illustrate that many of the basic securities we have in the United States cannot be fully understood because they have never been consistently threatened. Also, as oppressive as this situation may sound, it does bring a certain peace of mind to know everyone is on the lookout, and after the first few weeks of sitting on the beach it seems like business as usual.