Last-week Madness

The last week before leaving was a real bughouse, I’ve never in my life thought moving out for 5 months could be like this. Of course I was wise of the fact that packing in all the clothing and my personal little kitchen wouldn’t be a daydream but still.

The whole torture started last Thursday when I had to go back to Pécs (and walk everywhere from the central bus station because poor Erasmus-student ain’t gonna pay no shit for a bus ticket, I have legs after all) and get my transcript of records of the second semester (or why it sucks to go on Erasmus right after our freshman year); and there I  was literally hiding from someone I hated; but, lucky me, I didn’t have to play I liked him or deal with his shit, as soon as I sighted him (luckily just once) I did a 180° turn and went back on the stairs; or why it’s cool that the school is a labyrinth and I know how to figure it out.

As soon as I went to a lecture of English Literature and Culture II (‘cause why not if I’m there?), met (almost) everyone I wanted, and hugged everyone, then heard that the head of the English Literature and Culture institution used to study and teach in Ostrava (! hello there, anyways, professor), I realised I was hungry (being half past three already it isn’t surprising at all I believe) and had a gyros next to the school where a lovely Arabic man in his 50s sells divine food for the poor and starving students; and when I told him I was going to go there next time in February he went like “Will I only see you then again? Have a nice journey!”. Adorable, isn’t he? Filling my rumbling stomach with the gyros made with love I was walking back to the… shopping mall next to the bus station to spend all the cash I had with myself, to be honest I didn’t really want to exchange money… and I needed a pair of new boots anyways… also, I could find a knitted oversized “Inca gold” coloured sweater I’ve been looking for since March, or something similar, I guess (together with a long maroon t-shirt, because I liked it), and the little visit to Claire’s for fox-earrings and fox-necklace magically made 20k HUF disappear from my wallet. What might have happened with the money, I wonder…

The next important stop of my imaginary journey to being ready was on Monday, when I had my nails done and my hair cut. I’m still crying every time I comb my hair, had like 10-15 cm violently separated from my mane… but at least now it looks healthy and fresh. On Tuesday dad and his wife took me buying a suitcase; have I mentioned that I had no suitable suitcase I could pack my things into? It turned out a while ago that dad wouldn’t be able to take me by car so I had to rely on dear MÁV and the railway system of Europe to be able to get to Ostrava. Luckily, the Varsovia Express from Budapest to Moscow goes through Ostrava (did you even have a clue that a Budapest-Moscow railway still existed?) so I didn’t have to change lines in a country I barely know, and I don’t even speak the language at all. Wednesday consisted of starting to pack in my clothes in my newly-bought suitcase and everything else into the one my father’s family lent me. On Thursday we dyed my hair with mom (hers as well, because we had half of the burgundy-red hair dye left and she has very short hair now), and I started saying goodbye for everyone, especially my grandparents living 2 streets away from us.

Friday was a real rollercoaster, my best friend and I decided to have a last food coma together, so we had some gyros (I tell you, if gyros would be the only existing fast-food I wouldn’t cry) and then we (finally) bought her a bunny she’d wanted for a long while. His name is Berci, he’s 3 months old and he is a very well-mannered dwarf rabbit. On the bus home we tried to talk as much as possible, that was the last time I saw her until Christmas and the last 24 hours I could talk in Hungarian with someone in real life, as the train left the station today only the conductor talked in Hugarian with me face to face.

I tried to go to bed as early as possible, I had to get up at 4:20 as to get ready for the 150 km road trip to Budapest with dad as to catch the 8:22 train. During the night, I woke up at least five times and I had several nightmares about dad arriving for me late, after 7 (that was actually true, he came later than we agreed but still we arrived to the station half an hour earlier than supposed so it wasn’t such a big problem. I couldn’t have even slept longer, I woke up around 4 anyways and had to make myself some breakfast I could have on the train. Once it ran through my mind that I could still pay back the scholarship I got and return to Pécs (Nela told me this was more or less normal so I didn’t have to worry about it) but I had a self-talk that I didn’t go through this whole procedure since February to quit in the finish. I don’t actually know why this thought slid into my mind, but I’ve been so stressed lately (and monthly hormonal changes happened to attack me right this week) that I was literally crying 3 nights in my bed since Monday.

But, as every bad, even this ended yet. The weather became awful by the morning and we were lucky it didn’t rain when the train left so dad didn’t get soaking wet while going back to the car. And, surprise, surprise, there was toilet paper and soap on the train. I wasn’t this lucky with phone service and Wi-Fi though, no more working internet from the Hungarian-Slovakian border and no text message sending from the Slovakian-Czech border, only phone calls. Until Bratislava I was the only one in the cabin, there a lady and her dog, Gia got onto the train and I could pet the little cutie pie. Also, a man got into our cabin who turned out to be Japanese, and when this old gentleman helped me getting my luggage down from the train I thanked him in Japanese.

Then we got here in Ostrava. Nela was waiting for me at the train station so we could make it here to the dorms (which turned out to be an 8-floors-high building built in social realist style 400 meters behind the “World’s End”-sign) and pack my things in the room. But of course it wasn’t that easy, first of all we didn’t find where we were supposed to go and almost got lost near the tram stop. And, you know, guys, I didn’t in my wildest dreams think that there would be no ATM near a dormitory… so of course I didn’t have enough cash with myself as to pay the 3000 CZK deposit and needed to find an ATM in the city centre, luckily Nela came with me so I dint have to deal with this problem alone. We ran through this quarter of the city we were at and frantically tried to find a place where, first of all, we could buy public transport tickets, because the closest ATM was two tram stops away from us. But we figured it out that we could buy online tickets by phone so as I couldn’t send text messages any more she bought me a ticket – so now I owe her a coffee.

By the help of supernatural forces we got back to the dorms in time and we could finish paperwork, only being interrupted once. A guy who you could even smell was drunk decided to slap my butt as he passed near me so I ran after him and kicked into his ass. Then Nela translated he apologized so he got away with that now. And finally I could come up to the room and meet my new roommate. Her name is Marysia, she’s Polish and she studies Czech Culture, doing her master degree this semester, and it turned out that we already have something in common (apart from the fact that both of us many allergies): we both study the language that brought us here together because we couldn’t study Scandinavian Studies somewhere.

The Act of Stalking, or How I Met My Mates

Okay, not actually met them yet, but it doesn’t really matter now.

The first impressions of new things and new people are essential parts of liking those things and people, you give them chance based on your first impression (except if you’re such a fool that I can sometimes be, and regardless of your first impression and good sixth sense, you give someone a chance, and then another, even if your whole individual disagrees) and you treat them based on that, at least for a while. It’s all about prejudice, you might say, but there’s been only one time I was wrong about someone, and even then I was just partly.

As you may know, Erasmus-students have the chance for getting a buddy, a student from the receiving institution to help them out, and if the buddy-system works well, a facebook-group is made for the incoming students to get all the information needed, because fact is fact, we check facebook more frequently than we go to school.

We got our buddies appointed in the first week of August and basically this month, the one previous to our foreign-studies to start was the month we started dealing with things out there rather than at home, as only doing the language course and signing the final contract were left from the pre-paperwork. Everyone who wanted to participate in the buddy-programme got an e-mail from the buddy-coordinator with the e-mail address of their buddy and we could get in touch with the very first person we would meet in the Czech Republic; but my buddy didn’t waste any time, she wrote me an e-mail a day before the buddy-coordinator did, and told me to add her on facebook if I wanted. Those who are my facebook-friends probably are aware of the fact that I live on social media and if I don’t share anything on facebook for more than one day in a row I must be asked if I’m OK (seriously, do it), therefore I added her, so we actually got in touch with each other, but the first talk and stuff happened a little later.

I’ve probably written it already, but Czech and Hungarian prices for products don’t really differ from each other, based on what I’ve seen. The Erasmus-coordinator has sent us a price list so we would know what costs what, but being lactose-intolerant (and disliking dairy products on the whole) I don’t really care about the price of milk (cheaper than in Hungary, actually) but the vegan versions of them (although I’m not vegan at all); and as I have dyed hair, take hair-vitamins so my mane looks lively and healthy, and have fake nails, I need to know how much hair-dye, my vitamins and a manicurist would cost me. And who else could I ask than my buddy? You can laugh now, but it took me about a week to write a list about what to ask and actually compose the two lines I sent her, I was both a little anxious and as I had time I didn’t treat it as a major necessity to ask her as soon as possible. But finally I succeeded and had the first conversation with a lovely Czech girl, Nela, who studies History of Art and whom I will probably see every day at school, since our faculties are in the same building.

After having the first (and very embarrassing, I believe) conversation, it turned out that we got on well with each other, and had a few things in common: such as healthy lifestyle-addiction and writing a blog/diary about being on Erasmus; and that she kned a few Hungarian words because she spent her previous semester as an Erasmus-student in Zadar, Croatia, and spent a lot of time with Hungarian students (no wonder why she became my buddy, I’m the only Hungarian Erasmus-student in Ostrava ^^”””””). It also turned out that if I wanted to go running in the city centre, where I am to live, in the evening I would be safe.

The other day I also checked out the other foreign students in the facebook-group, and one thing surprised me. No, not that many of them were Polish, I would call that pretty normal for a university in a city that is about 15-20 km away from the Polish border; but that many many many students-to-come were Spanish or Portuguese. I could also see a few French or Belgian people (not even one or two), some Germans (again not so difficult to figure out why Typisch Hans and Typisch Gretchen would like to study in a cheaper, neighbour country) and even a Finnish and a Russian girl, and also an Italian girl and a boy, a girl from Far-East (probably Korea) and a guy from Black Africa; and some more people I didn’t memorize.

So this is gonna be very multi-cultured and I can’t wait to join this mass! I’m also very curious about my roommate-to-be, who she will be, how we will get on with each other and so one and so one. I promise to post a new article last time on the day I arrive to Ostrava, and when this whole thing really begins!

How to choose a destination, or why Ostrava?!

I’m not going to feed you up with fibs that I liked anything about the university or the country… I even study at Pécs because when applying to universities we had to pay 9000 HUF (~30€) for applying to three places (+ 2000 HUF for every next place; joke is that we were the last year who didn’t apply for free) and I thought if I had to pay for three then why apply for only two, I was sure I would be accepted to Károli Gáspár University of the Reformed Church, English studies, but didn’t have enough points for the first (Eötvös Loránd University, Scandinavian studies) and the second place either (I was crying after Budapest and KRE until I went back to the city in May) so I ended up in Pécs and started my English studies there. Choosing an Erasmus-destination was a similar torture, I’m not kidding.

The university of Ostrava was chosen by excluding those elements from the list I was given where I couldn’t go (because I didn’t speak the language required, such as France, Spain or Germany) and where I didn’t want to go (I had only like two criteria: I didn’t want to go to a city where a big group of Hungarian minority lived [e.g. Osijek, Croatia; Timișoara, Romania] and I also wanted to go North from Hungary [no Turkey, just nope, it’s too hot there]) and soon only two countries were left: the Czech Republic and Poland. With Łódź and Wrocław we had connection with the faculty of English Linguistics but with Ostrava and Katowice there was my chosen study track, English Literature and Culture so I applied for both places. First I didn’t know what order I should choose for them but a Czech twitter-friend of mine helped me saying prices were almost the same in the two countries so as I got a little more in the Czech Rep. I decided I wanted that one a little better. It was totally unimportant for me which one to choose, I didn’t spend hours on Wikipedia reading about the history of the cities or the ranking of the universities. Sad but true.

I even tried to get in touch with other universities the Faculty of Humanities had connection with (mostly Scandinavian and Finnish ones) but all of them were dead ends I, as a simple student, couldn’t do anything but quietly cry in the corner, mourning my love, the never-ending emerald taiga.

But finally, I could luckily get all papers in time (let’s say) and I was nominated by my faculty to go to Ostrava, so I’m looking forward to get there and get some knowledge from people living in the country of Dvořák, Smetana, and, most importantly, the best beers in the world.