Budapest: Contradictions Aplenty

If the edifice of a city is a microcosm of the populous’ identity, then Hungarians [or those in Budapest] are a confused lot. Budapest is the epitome of a paradoxical message. On one hand, one could find half naked guys dashing down the streets on their skateboard. Telephone booths and lifts are literally riddled with graffitis that range from unpleasant images to unfathomable scribbles. Abandoned grand project sites become nests for the youths to hang out, or even a business opportunity for some entrepreneur to milk some cash. [Apparently, one businessman opened night club in an abandoned site, offering its patrons the experience of partying in an abandoned warehouse. WTF.]

Graffiti everywhere.

But if one just tilt his/her head a little higher, and squint the eyes a little, one could see the exact opposite: grandiose buildings with ornate decorations from the baroque era imposing their weight around the surging forces of modernity and chaos. These charming old boutiques have stood witness to atrocities that would make a person shudder – the massive massacre of the Jews, the torture rampage of the Soviets – these buildings speak tales of destruction and birth once more.

The Grand Opera House: It’ll be coming here tomorrow for a show! =)

It is said that the Hungarians are a rebellious lot. History has casted them as the sacrificial lambs of greater human powers. Budapest has been sacked, rebuilt, sacked again, and rebuilt once more. Each time its fate faced the cruelties of different oppressors: the Hamburgs from Austria, the Ottomans from Turkey, the forced Partition after World War 1 that gave rise to countries like Romania etc., the unspeakable genocide of Hitler to the brutalities of the Soviet Union. But each time Hungary was beaten down, it fought back – bursting back to life like a flaming phoenix, refashioned with a new but more durable soul.

A Moment of Their Own

It is in Budapest that the first McDonalds opened beyond the Iron Curtain – the hallmark of Western capitalism – after the fall of the Soviet Union. It was here that Margaret Thatcher gave her famous speech about the open society that sent the hymns of freedom reverberating through the chords of the once-oppressed. Now the Soviets are no more; tourists flocking the streets ogling at the remnants of Budapest’s yesteryears; couples parading beside the river – basking in their love.

Refashioning one’s identity is a messy process. It doesn’t come without a steep price. Each time one adopts a new adaptable mask, though the probability of survival increases, he/she gives up a part of their pasts. And if done too often, one starts to forget between the real and the facade.

Sunset in Budapest.

Budapest had taken many hits and lived to tell the tale. Now it just has to look itself in the mirror, and ask whether it could still recognize the reflection that is staring back at them.

Don’t let the sun set on what you have so long stood for: your identity.

Last 5 posts by Jian Wei

• One Minute to Midnight - January 1st, 2011
• Prophecy - December 31st, 2010
• Footprints We Leave Behind - November 4th, 2010
• Istanbul Day 3: Masters of Our Universe - August 11th, 2010
• Istanbul: At Night - August 10th, 2010

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