Smaller World

Since so much of my blog has concentrated on changes (or things that might have changed simply because I have no recollection of them as they currently are), I feel I must continue this theme for my former home of Jaszbereny: The place I should remember the most. What tricks would have my memory played on me, what would I delight in having still be the same, and what would I be sad that had changed or perhaps never been? I will get to that. It took a good half hour of quickly jotting down notes just to complete the list. Janine was convinced I was going to wreck the car when we first arrived because I was so immersed in memory-related overload. I will get to these memories and hopefully in a way that someone else might find interesting, but first…
Big Marion (or Nagy Marianne when translated and spelled correctly - so embarrassed - misspelled her name throughout my book) is alive and well - and more amazingly, I just happen to run into her - quite literally - on the streets of Jaszbereny. Marianne Nagy (names reversed in Hungary) was the head of the English department when we were in Hungary. She is one of the few people I felt would likely still be in town, and quite frankly, one of the few people I thought I might recognize. There are a few others that I spent enough time with that I might recall the face or the name but probably not both - I'm starting to realize that 16 years is really a lifetime.
Here's how this unlikely event unfolds. We arrive Sunday night and cruise the town. Checked in at Jaszbereny's only hotel (the clerk seemed shocked on our unannounced arrival). Went to find some dinner - difficult on Sunday night and my beloved Stella restaurant is no more! I go to bed early, Janine stays up too late doing family tree research for our upcoming trip to Serbia. Monday am - I wake early - raining. Janine wants to go for run but sleeps late anyway. We negotiate 11 am check-out with hotel (evidently 10 is standard). Rain stops. We run.
Around the little island behind the public pool. Out past my old school to the train station. Back towards town on the other side of the street. Half-way back we make way for a woman on her bicycle. She passes. I double-take. Nagy Marianne!! Nothing. I try louder. NAGY MARIANNE!! She slows. Turns. Michael? How in a city of 10,000 (officially 28 but no-way) can our paths cross in such a manner? Granted I realize when you are a pedestrian/bicycler your radius from home is SO MUCH smaller than those of us bound to the culture of the auto - but still. Exactly that 5 minute window along that short stretch of road on that given day. Very odd. She just completed her 30th year at the school and didn't seem to think the town had changed that much (yes and no - more on that tomorrow). Her mother whom she had always lived with had died. She was re-doing her bathroom (hence her errand today). I introduced Janine. Told her I was teaching math and computers - now in my 10th year at Hercules. She said we were both old - and yet I felt we looked and acted very much the same. It was a short exchange, but I was happy to see her. Between this chance meeting, reveling in the memories of the town again, and one my favorite pastries (isler - pronounced ishler - sort of a Hungarian moon-pie but hand made), the short excursion to Jaszbereny was certainly a high-light of the trip so far.