Go Ahead and Drink the Water in Torocko (Tor-ahtz-koe)

Suto Levente, Aunt Liz, Mike, and me walk down the road in the mountain village of Torocko deep in the heart of Transylvania. The beautiful town is quite a drive from the nearest city with the unfortunate name Turda, home to a concrete factory and various other businesses and industries. Many people take long bus rides to and from Turda every day for work.

Our hosts made furniture and rented rooms to tourists. Our dinner, room for the evening, and breakfast totaled about $20 per person, if I'm not mistaken. We also had our first taste of palinka in Torocko. Palinka is a plum brandy that was something like 120 proof. It was a bit overwhelming after a thirteen hour drive through the Transylvanian countryside.

We arrived in the dark, but this huge mountain was quite a sight when we woke up. Me, Mike, and Levente went to the local tavern that night. It was a little cellar with long tables inside and out. I seem to recall that the benches were made of rough hewn boards and stumps. We had an ale of some kind and learned that Levente had a master's degree in anthropology. He said that returning to college when he was in his forties made him young again.

Before leaving, Krista filled her water bottle up with a liter of Torocko spring water. We thought she was insane, and I carefully avoided drinking that water. But the water turned out to be quite potable.

If we get back to Transylvania, I'd like to spend about four days in Torocko. Unfortunately, it only exists once every two hundred years. We tried to ditch Mike there. We kept telling him to check out the swag they had in the one really dark store. Then Levente gunned the engine on our Ford van, but Mike caught up with us. We pretended like we thought he was already in the van, but it was awkward for a couple of hours.

We Go to Transylvania, Yes?

We left Budapest and headed due east, across the Romanian border, and into the heart of the Carpathian Mountains. The border crossing was a bit unsettling since we didn't know the language and had heard horror stories about the Romanian government from our friendly and very knowledgeable guide, Levente. His stories were very vague which made them somewhat more chilling. One might be: "One time they kept me for questioning for three days. That was bad time. Yes?" But other than being a long wait the border crossing was fairly uneventful. Levente changed some Hungarian money into Romanian Leis and announced he was now a millionaire because Hungarian Forints were worth millions of Romanian Leis.

When we entered the mountains, we were treated to a little slice of America...the Restaurant Vegas, which advertised Coca-Cola. Mike, of course, insisted we stop and see if their Coke was any different than our Coke. He announced that it was a little "fizzier."

The Transylvanian countryside was very peaceful and pleasant. Farms and small villages passed by the window as we made a thirteen-hour journey from Budapest to the town of Torocko. We also saw lots of horse-drawn wagons on modern tires loaded with hay riding along the side of the road. All the roads were two lanes, and when Levente would pass the wagons, the van would swerve a bit and sometimes oncoming cars would honk. It made for stressful riding.

Most of the telepone poles were made of concrete, like the one in this picture. Lots of the homes were concrete and stucco with wooden gates. As we got into Transylania there were some towns that were all Romanians and some that were all Hungarians. Transylvania had been part of the Austro-Hungarian empire before World War I, and there different ethnic groups in the region including the Saxons and others that I can't remember. Many of the Saxon settlers went back to Germany after the Communist takeover at the end of World War II. At any rate, some towns display the Romanian flag like the one on the telephone pole in the picture on the left. Those villages tended to be all Romanians, which meant they spoke Romanian and were more patriotic to the Romanian nation. Other villages like the Hungarian villages we visited, were all Hungarians for whom Romanian was a second language that they were forced to learn when they went to school.

The Hungarians fights the Turks...on a Chess Board!

As Krista and I ambulated about the Green Zone of Budapest we stumbled across one of the many pick up games of human chess that go on there. The Green Zone was actually called something else, but it was the top of a hill that included the Hilton and some nice restaurants. And you had to pass through a security gate to get up there. I'm guessing that you needed to be on the reservation list for a hotel or something.

At any rate, there were some great views of the other part of Budapest. From the mountaintop we looked across the Danube. Evidently, the city of Buda sits on one side of the river and Pest on the other. They date back several centuries.

One of the proud moments in Hungarian history was when they defeated the invading Turkish hoardes that wanted to torture the Christ worshippers and force them to bow down to their Muslim God. The chess players re-enacted this historic battle with children dressed as chess pieces.

The Turks took up their position on the right, and the Hungarians lined up on the left. The generals stood on the wall and shouted orders and moved the pawns and knights around the board. Typically would hold up their shield and sword and march, or gallop. The Turkish queen performed one of their pagan dances as she moved from square to square.

The only problem was that it was impossible to follow the match from the perspective we were at, but it's very rare to see human chess being played in Daisytown. So it was novel.

I think if you look closely at the far rook of the Hungarian army (left), I think that's Mike. He claimed he was going to go back to the hotel, but I'm guessing that was ruse to keep us from finding out about his secret passion for human chess.

"I Want to Touch Those Horse Balls," said Mike

In Budapest, there is a statue of a great man riding a noble steed. This man played a pivotal role in the history of Hungary. Note the plumed helmet, the sword at his side, and the saddle that looks like a rich, magical tapestry. As you've guessed, I neither know who he was nor what he did. What's important is that I read that students would sneak out to the horse and touch the horse's testicles for good luck.


So many have stroked the balls that it is the only part of the statue that is not covered in a patina from decades of being exposed to the elements. In fact, these balls are as just smooth, brassy, and clean as my own scrotum, according to Mike. (picture at right)


Mike could not resist molesting the statue. We tried to restrain him, but he broke free of our grasp and ran to the statue. Below we see Mike, world traveler, climbing the pedestal, stretching his arm out, and touching them as the rays of God's light shines down upon him.

It may also be that we egged Mike on. In any case, the horse balls brought us tremendous good fortune. I highly recommend that anyone going from Budapest to Transylvania give them a stroke.

Clear Beer and Hungarian Hookers

I promised Bud a blog on Romania. I thought I would begin with the Hungarian beer: Dreher. It was not what I was expecting. I was thinking that the beer there would be thicker and darker than Dracula's dungeon on a moonless night. This was one of many, many misconceptions about the land of my ancestors. Instead, Dreher is a very light pilsner, like the beer a peasant would drink after forming haystacks all day.

Mike and I went to a couple of bars in Budapest, Hungary, before we left for Transylvania and after we returned. I can't remember which we went to before and which after. The first one was directly across from the Hilton. It looked like it was closing down for the night. There were two women at the end of the bar talking to the bartender. We clumsily ordered two beers and started drinking them. The place seemed to have a Morrocan flavor to me. Arched doorways, some stucco, tile floors, and maybe a sultan for a bartender -- or maybe that's just the way I want to remember it.

One woman approached Mike, and I can't remember exactly how the exchange went but I remember there was some confusion. Here's a slightly more elaborate and coherent version of what happened.

Woman: Yonaput kivonik! [something else in Hungarian, indicating she wanted us to light her cigarette]
Mike: Yonaput kivonik.
Woman: [something in Hungarian; indicates she wants us to light her cigarette]
Both of us: Oh! Sorry, we don't smoke. [pause] Or speak Hungarian.
Woman: Oh, yes? American? You want friend?
Mike: Yes, we're friends. Cousins actually.
Woman: [quizzical look, long pause] You want friend tonight? Yes?
Mike: Oh! Friend! God Yes! I thought you'd never ask. Let me escort you to the alley beside the bar. I thought I saw some shadows back there. There are some things I want you to do to me that we may not have words for, but I think I can pantomime them. [They leave arm in arm, and Mike does not return for several days.]

Or did it happen like this?...

Woman: [quizzical look, long pause] You want friend tonight? Yes?
Mike: Oh! No. No, no, no. No, we're just drinking. We're here for the beer. Just talking! [Now, shouts to the bartender] We're just here to drink! [points to his glass, nods and holds glass to lips, smiling] Drinking and talking over here! [Turns and smiles at other people in the bar] Just here to drink beer and talk! We are NOT soliciting sex from prostitutes! Barkeep! Two more Drehers quickly! See? We just want more beer!

Or another possible ending...

Woman: [quizzical look, long pause] You want friend tonight? Yes?
Mike: No, we just want to play darts!
At that point, Mike throws a dart that misses the board and lodges it in the wall. Conversations in the bar are suddenly hushed.
Mike: Maybe we should get out of here? Louie, I think that if we walk quickly we can make it over the moors without incident.
Louie: But what about all the rumors? Didn't you hear what the old woman said? She said...
Mike: Don't listen to these superstitious prostitutes. What could go wrong?

Next time. Read as the loveable but ignorant Americans make there way from Budapest to the mountains of Transylvania, making humorous missteps along the way...starring Mike!