Looking out the window at the thick, soupy haze that is covering the square concrete buildings of 전민동, I decided to google image search "Christmas Budapest."
Yeah, that was a bad choice. Most csak vágyom a forralt borra, a kürtõskalácsra, és egy kis somlóira.
Don't get me wrong, I dig it here. But there aren't Christmas markets, so there is absolutely no socially acceptable way for me to while away an afternoon drinking mulled wine from plastic cups and eating liver sausage. The streets don't twinkle with lights dripping from every tree. The smell of chestnuts and cinnamon don't fill the air. Snow doesn't crunch under my feet and children don't give me gifts of mandarins studded with cloves. Nobody is singing carols or force-feeding me gingerbread or even (shudder) beigli. I don't have a stove, so I won't be making mountains of cookies to bring into work. There are no advent wreaths to roll my eyes at in class.
I guess I just miss walking up to people I know and kissing them twice on the face. That feels much more Christmas-y than bowing.
Yeah, that was a bad choice. Most csak vágyom a forralt borra, a kürtõskalácsra, és egy kis somlóira.
Don't get me wrong, I dig it here. But there aren't Christmas markets, so there is absolutely no socially acceptable way for me to while away an afternoon drinking mulled wine from plastic cups and eating liver sausage. The streets don't twinkle with lights dripping from every tree. The smell of chestnuts and cinnamon don't fill the air. Snow doesn't crunch under my feet and children don't give me gifts of mandarins studded with cloves. Nobody is singing carols or force-feeding me gingerbread or even (shudder) beigli. I don't have a stove, so I won't be making mountains of cookies to bring into work. There are no advent wreaths to roll my eyes at in class.
I guess I just miss walking up to people I know and kissing them twice on the face. That feels much more Christmas-y than bowing.
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