Reexperiencing your own birth
Listening to the hostel keepers stories about trips to North Korea and others about what it is like being denied to enter your own contry, I didn't make it in bed until late. Before going to bed we decided that tomorrow was the day to put ourselves outside our comfort zone, something that needs to be done every now and then. Budapest is famous for its hot baths, something that has been done here for thousands of years, the water and essentially the pressure of it, has also created several underground cave systems. These caves waited for us to be explored. We put on the caving equipment provided by our guide and walked nervously, but at the same time full of excitement, towards the caves. Some of the caves had been used as bomb shelter during the war.
Climbing down the cave and watching the first of the tiny holes we would spend the upcoming few hours crawling and climbing through, things started to feel slightly uncomfortable. This was crazy. Had I felt the warm rayes of the sun for the last time of my life...
The guide asked us if anyone had memories of their own birth. There was a short silence, then he said that now was the time to reexperiencing it. He pointed out a tiny hole in the roof of the cave and told us that this was our exit. The hole was just about the size to fit a human body.
Push! Push! Push! - he said when I entered the hole. I tried kicking with my legs and pull my body upwards. Luckily, no one got stuck and we were all reborn.
We awarded ourselves with a nice hungarian meal after the caving to celebrate our survival. Together with my newly made friends from Australia and the USA we decided to spend the afternoon at "House of Terror", a museum picturing what the Hungarians went through during the hollocaust and later, the oppression by the Soviets claiming the country. The exhibition was very well designed with a balance between facts and personal stories describing the horrible events. The music and lighting were both very thought through to let the history of all the lives that were affected by the terror be remembered. In the basement we entered what had used to be prison chambers and a place where torture had been executed. There seems to be no end to what a person can put another person through just because a possession of a belief in a different ideology. I put no effort into trying to keep my tears from falling.
Climbing down the cave and watching the first of the tiny holes we would spend the upcoming few hours crawling and climbing through, things started to feel slightly uncomfortable. This was crazy. Had I felt the warm rayes of the sun for the last time of my life...
The guide asked us if anyone had memories of their own birth. There was a short silence, then he said that now was the time to reexperiencing it. He pointed out a tiny hole in the roof of the cave and told us that this was our exit. The hole was just about the size to fit a human body.
Push! Push! Push! - he said when I entered the hole. I tried kicking with my legs and pull my body upwards. Luckily, no one got stuck and we were all reborn.
We awarded ourselves with a nice hungarian meal after the caving to celebrate our survival. Together with my newly made friends from Australia and the USA we decided to spend the afternoon at "House of Terror", a museum picturing what the Hungarians went through during the hollocaust and later, the oppression by the Soviets claiming the country. The exhibition was very well designed with a balance between facts and personal stories describing the horrible events. The music and lighting were both very thought through to let the history of all the lives that were affected by the terror be remembered. In the basement we entered what had used to be prison chambers and a place where torture had been executed. There seems to be no end to what a person can put another person through just because a possession of a belief in a different ideology. I put no effort into trying to keep my tears from falling.
We walked down to the Danube again to have a last look at the river. The shoes are a symbol to honor the Jews who were killed during the second world war. They were ordered to take off their shoes and were shot at the edge of the water so that their bodies fell into the river. We passed the Basilica on the way back and stopped to listen to an Indonesian choir sining infront of it. It reminded me of the great feeling of singing together with others and how music really does unite people.
I was lucky to meet alot of inspiring and encouraging people during this trip. There is nothing as powerfull as sharing stories with people from a completely different background and discussing topics concerning life and how we should live it. It cracks your mind open. Kössönom (Thanks) to everyone who made this trip memorable.
Budapest- I will be back.
Budapest- I will be back.
