Jaszbereny Part II

The location of the "big church" was the most obvious hole in my memory. I remember the beautiful, large, yellow, baroque church in Jaszbereny. I just didn't remember its location so close to the main square - somehow in my mind it was further afield - perhaps closer to the "old church" which I also remember. Every time I saw it on the main street during this brief visit, something seemed amiss. I feel fairly confident that they had not moved it so I'm not sure how it was so radically misplaced in my mental map. My beloved Stella restaurant still stood proudly where it always had but long since been shuttered. We could not find the Gosser bar although there was a new one around the corner from Stella. Our perennial Apostol Kavehaz was packed with young and old on Sunday afternoon drinking beers and expressos as not much else was open. The school and apartment building looked largely the same - both a little worse for wear after sixteen years but they had never been in great shape to begin with. The uszoda (public spa) and mozi (movie house) also appear unchanged.
But changes abounded. Lots more grocery stores - including a giant big-box store about 3 kilometers outside of the center. The quaint farmer's market across the Zagyfa "river" behind our apartment had been gentrified into a mini shopping center with a large yet attractive warehouse for the local farmers to sell their goods. A new footbridge had been put in to allow easier access from our block. The pizza place - which I had forgotten - was now an "Arizona Steak House". The library was new. The square had been renovated including a new statue. Many of these changes I verified with the local librarian as well a gentleman named Istvan and his mother who lived in my old building. We did not know them, despite their living on the first floor for 40 years. They could not recall our neighbors - Gyorgy and Marika. They did recall some American English teachers but I think it was Julie and Eric who I believe came a year or two after us and stayed for at least two years.
Perhaps the sweetest part of the visit was a return to the school. Seniors each year have their pictures taken along with the staff and large framed poster size displays of these pictures adorn the halls of the school. The door was open and we explored without anyone questioning us. Working our way up from the the class photos for the 1960's on the first floor, we found those who graduated in 1998 on the third floor. I immediately recognized all of my freshman from my "1A" class. They looked mostly the same - a few of the boys less boyish. The names, faces, questions, responses, games, occasional trips to the principal office came flooding back. I truly thought I had forgotten most of these students but just like the Hungarian language - they were all locked somewhere in a forgotten corner of my brain.

Tomorrow off to Serbia so I may be off the grid for a while.