All the news it just repeats itself
John Prine, from Hello In There
I’m coming up on decision day, whether to stay or leave and I continue to swing back-and-forth. Lunch on the patio today under glorious skies vs. continental weather that’s guaranteed to please far less often and without an outdoor space, a living space that’s so pretty in a clean town that itself is pretty vs. something gray with walls riddled with Soviet bullet holes, no cigarette smoke in my living space vs. a likelihood of seeping smoke, having easy access to the U.S. (for family and also, at this stage of life, important for potential health reasons) vs. something unknown, a relatively low cost of living vs. a potentially lower cost of living, an onsite clothes dryer vs. a world that doesn’t believe in clothes dryers, it’s so easy to just stay put and … I’m certainly stagnating and it might be necessary to give up some creature comforts to recharge, but there’s the lingering sense I won’t recharge.
Yesterday in the cafe a gentleman told me the Hungarian language is hard, the people seemed cold, and in his short time in Hungary that this and that seemed unpleasant. He plays, among other things, the recorder, bridge, and squash; a retired Waldorf school teacher from L.A., he and his wife have homes in San Miguel and Victoria, Canada. While everything he said is likely to be true about Hungary, his life is so different than mine, I have to significantly discount his world view. And he didn’t seem to know the worst aspects of a potential life there.
After Farley’s Celebration of Life service last Sunday, C was wishing her friends would just get a hearing aid or take care of their hearing aids … that everyone here [in the expat community] is so old … and she’s headed back to Philadelphia for a while to be around people of all ages. I understand and relate to her complaint.
Today is Good Friday, the day of one of the holiest of processions here, and as I walked back from the cafe this morning I walked against the flow of the many people walking towards Centro to witness the procession and the steady stream of cars hoping to find a parking spot. Many taco stands were closed as well as neighborhood shops: I love disruptions to everday rhythms and busyness, whether it’s a snowstorm or Sundays in New York City or Semana Santa in San Miguel.