Canoeing among swamp cypresses on the backwater of the River Körös

The backwater of the River Körös at Szarvas-Békésszentandrás, commonly known as the ‘Kákafoki-backwater’, was formed during the regulation of the river Hármas-Körös and is one of the longest backwaters in Europe. While canoeing on it, you might think you were in a South American jungle or a Mississippi swampland, as the arboretum's founder, Pál Bolza, planted the river branch with exotic plants, including cypresses. The section near Szarvas is hardly a straight line, and it leads through beaches on the riverbanks, and even a theatre with a stage over the water. Paddling further under a bridge to arrive at the cypresses, among which you should look for the group of trees known as the Three Sisters. In the middle of the water, you can have a look at the Millennium Monument and on the right bank the Bolza Castle. 

The stretch between Szarvas and Békésszentandrás is an excellent choice even for families with small children, not only because of the pleasant and easy route but also because in summer you can swim in the well-equipped and free-of-charge beaches of both of these settlements.

Tip: For a longer journey, take to the water at Kunszentmárton, and from there head towards Szarvas. You'll pass through beautiful summer cottages and then unspoiled countryside, where you'll see flocks of herons, egrets, and cormorants.

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Canoeing on the Szarvas-Békeszentandrás backwater of the river Körös - Photo: Hungarian Tourism Agency

Canoeing on the floodplain of the river Rezéti-Danube

The Rezéti-Danube is a side loop of the River Danube that flows through the unspoilt forests of the Gemenc woodlands. A canoe trip on this water is recommended for those who seek the closeness of untouched nature. The first two kilometers of the loop are down the Great Danube, while most of the tour is on the loop that flows out of and later back into the main river. Starting from the dock of Érsekcsanád and following the shore of Veránka Island, after about two kilometers you will reach the estuary of the Rezéti-Danube loop. Here, a sharp right turn takes you into the calm waters of the Rezéti branch, where you can comfortably follow the river. After four kilometers of paddling from the estuary, we arrive at Nyárilegelő, a docking, and resting stop, which is also a train station at the narrow gauge railway of the Gemenc State Forest Railway. Paddling on, you will find yourself deeper and deeper into the thick of the Gemenc floodplain forest: willow trees growing closer to the riverbank and poplars further away, offer excellent hiding places for big game. Gemenc is world-famous for its valuable and beautifully antlered red deer, its rich roe deer, and wild boar populations. The birdlife is also very varied, and with a little luck, you may spot grey herons, white-tailed eagles, saker falcons, and lesser-spotted eagles.

Paddling on in the river Rezéti-Danube, you reach the top of the island which also means that you’ve reached the upper, inflowing mouth of the side branch. After that all you have to do is to cross the Danube again and dock at Érsekcsanád, the starting point of our tour.

Tip: The fact that this eighteen-kilometer-long canoeing route leads through unspoilt nature makes it special for sure but it can be its disadvantage, too: the floodplain forest of Gemenc is part of the Danube-Drava National Park, therefore, the number of options where you can dock and step on shore is very limited, so it is a good idea to stock up on food and drink.

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The Gemenc forest – Photo: Hungarian Tourism Agency

Easy family rafting on the river Rába

The river Rába is one of the wildest, most romantic, and most naturally preserved rivers in Hungary. Originating in the Austrian Alps, it reaches Hungary from the West near Szentgotthárd and flows northeast to join the Mosoni-Duna at Győr. The river, densely packed with gravel banks, sharp bends, and sudden sections of rapid acceleration, sometimes challenges even experienced water hikers. A special feature of the Rába is that its upriver section between the border and Sárvár has hardly been regulated, preserving its wild and unspoilt atmosphere. Thanks to the natural environment, the wildlife both in the water and around the banks surrounding the river has remained undisturbed, allowing you to discover unique species of flora and fauna while paddling on the river.

The meandering section of the river between Szentgotthárd and Csákánydoroszló is part of the Őrség National Park. This is perhaps the most beautiful part of the wild Upper Rába: it is not the strength of the current that gives this section of the river a white-water atmosphere, but the small and large alluvial islands, rapids, and reefs, as well as the bushes and fallen trees that overhang the water.

Tip: The twenty-kilometer rowing tour starts from Szentgotthárd and ends in Rábagyarmat, but can be extended to thirty-five kilometers if you go up to Csákánydoroszló. As the Rába is considered wild water, you should only set off with a qualified guide! If you're planning a long weekend, you might want to include a swim in Lake Hársas in addition to the paddling. The lake is one of the jewels of Szentgotthárd, fed by the Hársas Stream, which originates in the forest of neighbouring Apátistvánfalva, and is popular not only with anglers but also with swimmers and hikers. The one-kilometer-long Lake Hársas Nature Trail along the lakeside promenade introduces the wildlife of the lake and its surroundings.

Nádi szél – a water study trail on the Lake Balaton

If Lake Balaton has been all about the beach for you, it's time for a trip on the water! Opened in 2018, the three-kilometer-long, six-stop nature trail on Lake Balaton invites you to explore the bay of Badacsony, either as part of a guided tour or independently, following GPS coordinates.

The water trail starts at the foot of Badacsony, at the Herczeg Ferenc Beach in Badacsonylábdihegy. From the canoe or kayak, you can enjoy an unparalleled view of the Balaton landscape: from here you can see the basalt organs of Badacsony, and also Szigliget from a completely different perspective.

You can find the stops of the trail by paddling along one of the largest contiguous reed beds of Lake Balaton, about two hundred and fifty hectares in size, with directional posts in the water and QR codes on them for easy access to further information.

Tip: You can rent binoculars at the Badacsonytördemic Ecotourism Visitor Centre for the 3-kilometer tour, which can be comfortably done in an hour. And if you just want to look but not paddle, you can also book a guided boat tour by appointment. After the tour, head to the castle of Szigliget for a great concert experience in the summer evenings.

Water tour around the Tihany peninsula

Whether you're in a kayak or on a SUP board, the Tihany peninsula and its surroundings are perhaps even more spectacular from water than from the mainland. The tour starts from Gödrös beach in the eastern part of the peninsula, where you can rent a kayak or SUP and paddle on towards the Abbey and the Tihany ferry. As you leave the ferry port, the landscape changes as you paddle towards Sajkod, where the inhabited areas are replaced by forest and unspoilt nature.

Along this stretch, it's worth contemplating in silence, listening to the sounds of nature and the birdsong and looking out for a glimpse of a Grey heron, Great egret, Ferruginous duck, Cormorant, or Black-headed gull.

The coast of the peninsula rising above us leads to the lovely little beach of Sajkod, where it's worth stopping for a swim, but if you feel fit to paddle more you can continue to Örvényes.

Tip: In the courtyard of the Lavender House Visitor Centre, you can also take a peek into the reeds of the Inner Lake. The plank over the water is a nature trail that introduces you to the wildlife of the reed beds. In the lakeside pasture, you'll see Hungarian grey cattle and playful families of gophers.

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Lavender House Visitor Center, Tihany - Photo: Hungarian Tourism Agency

Paddling among freshwater jellyfish in the Szigetköz wilderness

This 14.7-kilometer, moderately difficult tour - guided only - starts from the Trianon Sluice on the outskirts of Rajka, where you can learn how this landscape was transformed into a gravel desert by the end of the 1980s as a result of the construction of the Bős-Nagymaros Water Steps system, and how a real wilderness developed here.

After getting on the water, the tour leads along the Homoki branch towards Lake Tilosi. The gravel ponds in the area were connected by artificial channels in 2016 to ensure ecological permeability. These "stepping stones" make the tour more exciting, with the water getting a little faster at each one. Later on, you will reach wider and wider branches and then the Ördögszigeti Lakes, an excellent place for resting and swimming. As we continue, the landscape opens up even more. These wide branches of the Danube are responsible for a large part of the water supply of the Szigetköz tributary system. If you're feeling adventurous, you can paddle up the second section too and admire the Helenai Lakes, famous for their freshwater jellyfish, which you might even see yourself on warmer days in July and August. From here, you can travel with the flow to Dunakiliti, at the Wild Water Campsite, at the end of the tour.

Resources: www.termeszetjaro.hu; www.aktivmagyarorszag.hu

This article was written with the professional support of the Hungarian Tourism Agency.
 

No one even suspected she would become an interpreter

Little Katalin was born in the winter of 1909, the daughter of Ármin Szilárd and Gizella Schwartz. Her father was a district doctor for the poor in a small rural town in Baranya County. Kató studied Latin and French at elementary school, but later, at high school in Pécs, she did not speak German well compared to her classmates, who were either looked after by a German governess or of Swabian (German-speaking) origin. "I was very far behind them," she told later at the Friderikusz Talk Show.

At the time, no one could have guessed that she would become one of the world's first simultaneous interpreters and that her language skills would take her around the world. After graduating from high school with a D in German, she went on to study chemistry at college and later earned a doctorate in physics and chemistry at the Erzsébet University of Pécs. "We don't like each other with chemistry, it doesn’t like me and I don’t like it. I lacked the precision and manuality that is essential for chemists," she told Tamás Vitray in the 1970s on the TV program “Ötszemközt”.

But back to the university years! When she finished her studies at the end of the 1930s, she could not find a job. There were more experienced professionals than she not finding jobs, let alone a beginner. Her personal life turned out well, however - in Budapest, in Terézváros, she married Frigyes Laub (Lomb), who was ten years older than her and took his name, thus becoming Kató Lomb from Dr. Katalin Szilárd.

Knocked at the mayor's office

Thus her diploma was of no use to her, and soon the Second World War intervened. Because of her Jewish origins, she was forced to go into hiding with her young son before and during the siege of Budapest. Her husband, also of Jewish origin, was spared by the Arrow Cross, as he was an electrical engineer at the LAUB factory, where vital military equipment was produced. In 1941, in a secondhand bookshop, she found a very old Russian-English dictionary.

"I was fascinated by this unfamiliar alphabet," she said.

She ran home and started to study and read a lot about Russian literature in translation. Russian was a forbidden language at the time, she had to hide the books, and the young wife studied even during the air raids - alone, without a language teacher. She learned Russian in two years.

When the war ended, she tried to look for a job. "During those weeks when the Soviets came in, I was pretty much the only person who could write on a Russian typewriter in Cyrillic, that was the main attraction to it," she said. So in February 1945, she took up a post as an interpreter for the then mayor-general. Budapest was in ruins, but the light was on in the mayor's office and she knocked on the door. "I asked him if he needed an interpreter. He replied, 'Stop talking so much, sit down and call the city commander,'" she recalled. Two years later, she found herself in Parliament interpreting for MPs.

”Language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly”

She was able to speak and interpret in ten languages, translate scientific literature and enjoy fiction in another six, and understand journalistic texts in eleven more.

She worked for money in 16 languages in total but knew at least 28 languages – at least at the level of written comprehension. 

"How many languages do I know? I have only one mother tongue: Hungarian. I know Russian, German, English, and French well enough to be able to translate or interpret them in any combination at any time. For Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, and Polish, I have to prepare a bit: I read my own diaries in these languages. I read Swedish, Norwegian, Romanian, Portuguese, Dutch, Bulgarian and Czech literature: I can translate the written texts - political or technical", she wrote in her 1988 book Harmony of Babel.

Her book, Polyglot: How I Learn Languages, was published in 1970 and has gone through four editions. When the last edition was published in 1995, she told journalists:  "When learning a language, it always helps to give yourself a bit of a pat on the back. Self-criticism and anxiety can be crippling." She believed that self-confidence and a good method play a much bigger role in language learning than linguistic talent. She did not believe that language learning should only be done at a young age, because language, according to Kató Lomb, is an effective tool not only for building human relationships but also for maintaining our mental ability and spiritual balance. She was convinced that it is not only in the native country of the target language that one can learn that language well.

"Language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly because while a doctor can't make a mistake because it could cost a patient his life, a grammatically incorrect but still understandable sentence can still be useful" –  was her most famous saying.

She was a linguistic genius, but she didn't consider herself one. In her writing, she liked to use an equation she had invented for language learning: invested time × motivation/inhibition= result.

So if you know what you want to achieve by learning a language, and you can spend at least ten minutes every day, even with the tightest of work schedules, and put aside your fear of speaking, you'll have an easy time of it. She always clung to the fun part of language learning, was bored of the made-up dialogues in language books, and never went to a language teacher. Instead, her habit was to buy a good novel in the target language and use it to discover the basics, grammar, and vocabulary of that language.

She took notes in Chinese characters while working

She travelled the world as an interpreter, visited forty countries on five continents, and worked at international conferences. She interpreted for UNESCO meetings, and at one event she was able to take seven or eight interpreting seats thanks to her incredible skills.

While listening to the text, she took notes, not in Hungarian or in the target language, but, for example, when she had to translate from French into English, she took notes in Chinese characters for speed (in Chinese hieroglyphics, one symbol covers several words). As a professional interpreter, she was what might be called a freelancer or self-employed translator of the time. "Our employer changes three times a week," she explained to Vitray at the talk show.

She believed that there is only one world, but through languages you can get to know its many more colours and forms. During her travels abroad, she always engaged in conversation with locals.

"I go (into a shop) to bargain for a glove that I have no intention of buying, but it's a great way to expand my vocabulary." She picked up three new words, and it didn't really matter what the assistant thought.

In an interview, she also said that while people say that the Finnish language is related to Hungarian, Finland was the only country where she could not communicate in any language.

"Lecture, nature, skiing"

An interesting fact is that, although she was considered a language genius, she only had an official language exam in Chinese. "I then applied for a Japanese exam and was assigned an examiner, but when I heard that he was going to conduct the exam, I was so offended that I didn't go. And he was so scared that he had to test Kató Lomb that he didn't come either," she told Friderikusz at his Talk show. The examiner didn't know half as much as Kató Lomb.

"I tend to say about myself that I have three obsessions: lecture, or reading, nature, or nature walks, and skiing." She was passionate about all three. When interpreting was in the off-season, she would go skiing. As she put it, she skied through January. She was convinced that exercise helped with her mental work.

In her last years she was still keen to learn languages, and, according to her son, after the age of 92 she tried her hand at learning Ivrit (a modern version of Hebrew), but not with much success. She preferred to call herself a 'linguist' (as opposed to a philologist), referring to someone who learns several languages for practical purposes and out of interest.

By her own testimony, her long life has been brightened not by knowing languages, but by learning them.

Her death on 9 June 2003, at the age of 94, is as much forgotten as her achievements in life. Her passing was reported in only two or three newspapers. She is buried in Budapest, in the cemetery in Farkasrét.

Resources used:
MTI  (Hungarian News Agency)
https://mystique.cafeblog.hu/2017/02/08/egy-elfeledett-lingvista-lomb-kato/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yM95By6tzpQ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltcmUwFuIhA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_tEi31qKss
https://hu.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lomb_Kat%C3%B3

The arbitrary relocation
The peace process that ended the Second World War brought an end to armed military activities in Central Europe, but not peace and tranquillity. After the Soviet troops had driven the Germans out of Czechoslovakia by the spring of 1945, Eduard Beneš, the former (and soon-to-be) president of the republic, who had returned from exile, set to work on a 'constitution' in April. Of the 143 decrees and edicts that established Czechoslovak statehood after the war, 13 were intended to 'settle' the status of the indigenous German and Hungarian communities living in the newly reconstituted country. The quotation mark is not accidental, it was rather unsettling because the legislators did not pay much attention to moral concerns.

On the basis of nationality, the Germans and the Hungarians were collectively blamed for the world war.

The Germans in Czechoslovakia were not treated lightly, and in the years after the war three million Sudeten Germans were driven from their homes. A similar solution was proposed for the Hungarians in the region. The peacemaking powers accepted the unilateral deportation of the Germans, but did not support the deportation of the Hungarian community out of the Soviet Union. Beneš was forced to be content with depriving hundreds of thousands of Hungarians in the region who had confessed their Hungarianness of their citizenship, closing their schools and confiscating their property. They went even further to break up the ethnic Hungarian block in the south of the country. Hungary and Czechoslovakia signed a bilateral population exchange agreement in February 1946, and the arbitrary resettlement of Hungarians in the region began in April of the following year.

In two years, about 80 thousand Hungarians were forced to leave their homes, mostly rich peasants and landowners. In their place, and with access to all the property and land of the deportees, Slovaks living in Hungary arrived - on a voluntary basis! Those who refused to identify themselves as Slovaks (i.e.: "reslovakize"), but did not have enough land to make them an attractive target for a newcomer, were assigned to forced labour.
In the winter of 1946-47, 45,000 people were packed into box wagons and transported to the Noerthern part of Czechoslovakia for forced labour as part of the post-war reconstruction, most of them in the place of the Germans who had been deported a few months earlier.
One of those deportees was Gyula Patasy, then five years old.

"I thought we were going on an excursion..." 

"How could you forget that? - Gyula Patasy asks, astonished, when I ask him how, after almost eighty years, he can still have such vivid memories of the days of the deportation. – I can still see the truck pulling into our yard. And ’by accident’ hitting our wardrobe that was already packed there in the yard, ready to move. 

Gyula and his family were taken to a village near Prague, Smečno, together with other people from Nyárad, in January 1947. About ten families from the village were taken without any selection, he says. "Sick, old, pregnant women, babies, we were all crammed into box wagons that were used to transport cattle. There were no benches or chairs, nothing but a little straw. Nobody had any idea where they were being taken", his wife tells us. Ms Márta was only a few months old at the time, and her family survived the forced resettlement, but many of her relatives were driven away.

When I ask him how much of what was going on around him he understood as a child, Gyula smiles. "That was the first time I ever sat on a train! I remember as we were rushing towards the Czech Region, I started singing a nursery song about a steamer. I was five years old, I thought we were going on an excursion."
"I couldn't understand the tears in my mother's eyes, nor why they were so harsh to me and ordered me to stop singing."

That wasn't the saddest part of it all. For him, the "human market" after their arrival is still the most painful memory. Young workers were sold out quickly, but large families like theirs were a harder go. "That's what the slave market must have been like, people haggling, outbidding each other, shouting, fighting over who would take the strong young people," he says. The locals spat at the Hungarians, shouting at them. "Afterwards it became clear that they had thought we were coming voluntarily, that we were poor beggars, and we were after their work. Nobody told them we had a house, land, and animals at home. That we had been forced to come, deported, we were not on an excursion."

The legend of Uncle Tudleto

The family was lucky after all: they were able to stay together and were taken in by a respectable Czech landowner. They were given a servant's house, a small plot of land, and crops, the children could go to school, and they slowly began to integrate into the local community. The local people got used to them. "One day I was walking down the street and I was hit by a motorbike, a Czech guy. I got a scratch or two, but the guy was so scared that he followed me for weeks, and took me out on his bike several times. We couldn't really talk, I didn't understand Czech, but he was a decent kid."

The families from the fully-Hungarian villages in the region north of the River Danube did not speak Slovak or Czech. In their new environment, children were sent to the shop, and they pointed at the items with the help of the local shopkeeper, “Uncle Tudleto”. “He got this strange name from the relocated Hungarians," Gyula explains. "We didn't speak a word of Slovak, let alone Czech. We only communicated by pointing. The shopkeeper would unload the goods on the counter one by one, asking each one: 'tohle to?' (this here? - ed.), and we would shake our heads until he guessed what we wanted." And so the legend of Uncle Tudleto the shopkeeper was born.
Decades later, they heard from the Hungarians who had stayed there that the poor shopkeeper was referred to by this nickname until his death.

Some of the young people found a partner and stayed, but Gyula and his family returned home. In the spring of 1948, the Communists took power in Czechoslovakia, and the party leader, Klement Gottwald, hinted in a radio speech that the relocated Hungarians would soon be able to return home. There was no official decision yet, but most of the women and children left for their homes. They made the journey almost in secret, fearing that the authorities might turn them back to the Czech region at any moment.

It was difficult to start again. Shortly before history swept the family away, they had replaced the roof of their house. By the time they got home, the wooden covering, barely a few years old, was gone, Gyula remembers. "Someone took the new boards. We know who it was. In a village this size, everything gets around," he says. He started primary school in Czech, but when he returned home, he couldn't learn in his native Hungarian language straight away. After the war, the Czechoslovak government closed all Hungarian schools, and only after the communist takeover did things ease up a bit. The party-state, which thought in terms of social classes, did not tolerate discrimination between nationalities, at least on the surface, and the possibility of education in the mother tongue was restored.

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The Patasy couple, Márta and Gyula - Photo: Krisztián Pomichal

"All in all, we didn't have a bad time in the Czech lands," recalls Uncle Gyula, "at first yes, but later we hardly encountered any hostility towards Hungarians." Interestingly enough, a decade and a half later, his wife, Márta, studying at the teacher training college in Léva (Levice), experienced more rejection of the majority nation. At the turn of the century, Léva (Levice) had been an almost exclusively Hungarian-speaking city. After the war, thousands of Hungarians were forcefully relocated from it and the city was artificially swollen up with Slovaks so by the 1960s the majority of the citizens were Slovaks. "I had no idea what chauvinism meant. I didn't know the word. Well, there I got to experience what it was.

We were often told to „Get out and go to the other side of the Danube”. At first, it was very difficult, I cried all night.

Even the bell tolled differently than at home. It was a very difficult time," Ms Márta says.

Be happy with what you have!

Márta and Gyula were married in 1966 and this year they celebrate their 57th wedding anniversary. As a newlywed, I am curious to know the "big secret", but to my disappointment, they both smile and tell me there is no secret. "There were, are, and will be conflicts. We can still quarrel, even at, let’s say, how to hoe. I always say that if a couple doesn't quarrel sometimes, then one of them is stupid because he/she overlooks everything for the other," Gyula laughs, and his wife takes over.

"We have worked a lot all our lives. There were many of us brothers and sisters, parents couldn't support us financially, it was a stressful life. Maybe it helped that we could enjoy the little things. We built up our life bit by bit. A young person now can't be as happy about a family house as I was about a lamp or a set of pots and pans. If there's a secret, maybe this is it. You have to work for everything, then you can find joy in the smallest things," says Ms Márta and Gyula adds, "Remember what our bridesmaid used to say? “There is no such thing as having so much money that you can't spend it all and there's no such thing as having so little that you can't save some. We tried to live by that!"
 

He secured the Letters of Protection one by one

His grandfather was born in Poland, and after serving in the Polish army in Budapest, he decided to make it his new home. Thus, Tibor Baranski's (Baránszky) parents, Rezső Baránszky and Mária Schelnader, met on Hungarian land, and little Tibor was born and raised in Budapest. He became aware of the growing anti-Semitism in Europe while still in high school. He was drawn to the priesthood, so during the Second World War, he studied at the seminary in Veszprém and then in Kassa. However, when the front approached Kassa, he was forced to abandon his studies and the city, returning to Budapest. It was 20 October 1944, and five days earlier, the fascist leader of the Arrow Cross Party, Ferenc Szálasi, had taken power in the country and the Szálasi government had been formed.

When the 22-year-old young seminarian returned home, he was to stay with his aunt. Margit Sterneder worked at the Chinoin pharmaceutical factory in Újpest where she became close friends with the Jewish-born Dr. Hedvig Szekeres and her family. One day Hedvig asked her if her relative could obtain a Vatican passport for her and her family with the help of the Catholic Church.

Tibor put on his priestly attire and went to see Papal Nuncio Angelo Rotta, the Vatican's representative in Budapest.

The Vatican embassy was one of the five neutral countries that issued letters of protection to Jews, and so the Swiss, Swedish, Spanish, and Portuguese embassies, as well as the Vatican, were flooded with queues of people asking for help.

"I was not discouraged. I went to the front of the queue and said I was on official business," recalled Tibor Baranski, who wandered around the embassy until he found the nuncio's office. No one asked what he was doing there, as he was wearing a cassock. He got through to Rotta and persuaded him to give him nine letters of protection, one for each member of the Szekeres family. He got it. Encouraged by his success, he returned the next day to help another family.

The Papal Nuncio granted his request and asked Baranski to rescue fifty people from the brick factory in Óbuda, where Jews awaiting deportation were being held, by means of letters of protection. For the operation, Baranski once again put on clerical clothes, and the Papal Nuncio even lent him the diplomat's car, a Rolls-Royce, bearing the flag of the Holy See. Baranski succeeded, and the Jews who were taken under the protection of the Holy See were released by the Arrow Cross.

"I worked day and night and slept very little"

Angelo Rotta took him in his trust, appointing him as Secretary of the Hungarian Citizens' Protection Department of the Embassy. He also put him in charge of the rescue operations and the Vatican's protected houses. He often even confronted Arrow Cross gangs who raided the houses and disregarded international protection. In these houses, thousands of people survived the period of persecution of the Jews. With the help of his aunt, he distributed medicine, food, and supplies to Jews in hiding. "I worked day and night and slept very little. There were days when I did not have a second to eat," he recalled. - By the grace of God... I had the courage and a talent for organizing."

In several cases, he rescued hundreds of victims from death marches on the way to Austria, usually bringing the rescued back to the capital by train. Once he even went to the Józsefváros railway station, the center of the rail deportations in Budapest, from where forced labour servants were being deported to Germany. The young student priest got into a dispute with the commander in charge of the wagon deportations and managed to get many Jews taken out of the wagons with the help of the Vatican's passes.

According to official figures, he saved 3,000 Hungarian Jewish women, children, and men from death in the nine weeks before the Soviets reached Hungary.

Baranski risked his own life when the Nazis demanded that he stop saving people, but he did not. When a German officer put a gun to his head and asked why he was helping Jews, he replied, "You are either stupid or an idiot. Because I am a Christian, I help the Jews."

Adolf Eichmann (one of the main organizers of the deportations of Jews, often called 'the chief executioner of the Third Reich') once called him on the phone and told him that only 3,000 of the 12,000 letters of protection previously authorized by the Nazis would be accepted. Baranski did not know who he was talking to, so he told Eichmann: "I thought I was talking to a German officer, not a German scoundrel."

Convicted in a showcase trial

Those who did not have valid letters of protection were hidden in caves and old houses used as wine cellars. "By doing so, we were able to protect 8000-12,000 Jews," he said. He handed over to the Nazis and the Arrow Cross fake but official-looking life-saving documents and used every trick in the book to save as many as possible.

Captured by the Soviets in December 1944, he was forced to march 260 kilometers toward a Soviet prison and was only given food four times in 16 days. Finally, a well-meaning guard rescued him and he was allowed to return to Budapest. After the war, he completed his studies and was ordained a priest, but his troubles did not end there.

In 1948 he was sentenced to nine years in prison by the communists in a showcase trial for "clerical reaction". He was released after Stalin's death in 1953.

He was as much against communism as he was against Nazism, so he left Hungary in 1956 and also left the priesthood. He eventually settled in the United States and started a family with his Hungarian wife. His courage and self-sacrifice were recognized by the Righteous Among the Nations Award by the Yad Vashem Institute in Jerusalem in 1979. This is the highest honour given to non-Jews who have risked their lives for Jews. In 2013, he was awarded the Hungarian Order of Merit in Hungary. He died in his family home in Buffalo, New York, in January 2019, at the age of 96.

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Photo: Wikipedia

His heroism on screen

His story and his lifesaving activities are little known in Hungary, but Gergely Mózes's historical documentary Until Death (Mindhalálig) intends to change that, not only by honoring the memory of Tibor Baranski but also by contrasting his heroic and bold actions with the atrocities of a bloodthirsty antihero, the Arrow Cross monk Father Kun. The film is a parallel story of a Catholic priest's student and an Arrow Cross monk in the 1944 siege of Budapest. The intertwined story of the lifesaver and the war criminal is relevant in every way, not only locally, but also globally, in a world burdened with problems and prejudices.

The 46-minute film includes fiction and live-action scenes, as well as interviews with experts, including historians Krisztián Ungváry and Sándor Szakály. The television premiere of Until Death was last year. At the end of April this year, the film won the Best Short Documentary award at the 3rd International Historical Film Festival in Pápa. It will next be screened at the 16th Kecskemét Animation Film Festival from 21-25 June.

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Poster of the documentary Until Death

Father Kun, the mass murderer

But who was Father Kun? Born András Kun, a Minorite monk, he was a member of the Arrow Cross Party during their reign of terror and took part in the torture and execution of many Jews, committed robberies and other crimes. In the "holy name of Christ", he commanded fire and increased the terror among the people in Budapest, the newspapers of the time wrote.

During his interrogation, he confessed to the murder of 500 people but later denied it. According to the indictment, he was the deputy leader of the Arrow Cross Party's reprisals in District XII and was involved in almost all the actions that took place in the district.

It was he who led the large-scale raid in the area of Nagyatádi Szabó Street and Paulay Ede Street, during which 700 Jews were arrested and executed. He was also responsible for the execution of patients at the Maros Street and Városmajor Street hospitals. He is responsible for the lives and blood of hundreds of innocent people, some executed by his own hand, others by a gang under his leadership.

When he joined the Arrow Cross, the Archbishop suspended him, i.e. excluded him from the ties of the Church, but he continued to wear the cassock and use the title of priest - illegally. "When I was in civilian clothes, I carried a hand grenade, a revolver, a submachine gun, and a truncheon, but over my cassock, I wore 'only' a revolver," he said at the People's Court hearing of his trial. The 33-year-old man was sentenced to death by hanging, which was carried out on 19 September 1945.

Resources used:

• https://www.academia.edu/44709073/Kun_p%C3%A1ter_elfog%C3%A1sa_kihallgat%C3%A1sa_t%C3%A1rgyal%C3%A1sa_%C3%A9s_kiv%C3%A9gz%C3%A9se
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tibor_Baranski
• https://hdke.hu/baranski-tibor-1922-2019/
• https://www.jta.org/2019/01/23/ny/remembering-a-holocaust-hero-uncle-tibor-to-me
• https://hu.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kun_Andr%C3%A1s
• http://embermentok.eletmenete.hu/baranski-tibor-0

Who can be considered a gifted child? What are the criteria for giftedness?

Talent is often identified with ability, but it is more an opportunity, a potential for development. It is an inner driving force that, from an early age, pushes a person to develop, to want to achieve more and to make a difference. A gifted person does not consider whether something can be achieved, but rather the "how". They function differently from their peers, they are autonomous, self-motivated, and go their own way. They can do what others say is impossible because they have the inner drive. But being gifted is not as easy as many people think, because giftedness is a kind of deviance, which involves a lot of struggles for both the child and the parents, and requires a lot of mental effort on their part.

The main task of mentoring is to help this inner drive to unfold and to steer it in the right direction because a talented person will do something anyway, it's just a question of whether for or against society.

Does this mean that the saying that "all children are talented at something" is not true?

If it were, there would be no point in using the word ‘talent’. Between 20 and 25 per cent of the population have some degree of this personality trait, this inner drive. The rest of the children have good abilities too, but they are still not considered gifted. It is the responsibility of the family and the environment to support the child if they show some sign of it. If not, then help them to find what they are good at. You don't necessarily have to wish your child a talented path, because it is a bumpy one and full of sacrifices, but you have to give them the opportunity to find their own way.

What has a greater role in the development of talent, genetics or environmental influences?

No child is born gifted. A child comes into the world with the potential, the inner drive, to become one through interaction with the environment, and with the world around them. Therefore, parents and teachers have a huge responsibility to provide an environment for the child in which talent can flourish. It is important to point out that the same number of children with this predisposition are born into disadvantaged families, but they have fewer opportunities to develop because they do not receive the stimuli they need.

What happens to these children who have the inner drive but no supportive environment?

The inner driving force is like a force of nature. If the environment is not able to reinforce and nurture it, the child develops enormous tension, which can lead to self-destructive activities or antisocial behaviour. Good examples are the great mafia figures who could have used their inner drive for the benefit of society if they had been given the right support in childhood. This is why talent management is not a posh hobby, but a way of protecting society.

Kindergartens, schools and even society as a whole thirst for the gifted and love to show them off, but the deviance that can come with it is often difficult to tolerate and often labelled as a problem.

As I said before, gifted children don't work like other children. They are characterised by different neurodevelopment, which can be combined with hyperactivity, attention deficit, learning disorders or autism spectrum disorders. But gifted children are also very different.

There are the so-called retentive talents who absorb, maintain and develop the knowledge and culture that other types of talented people have created.

They have fewer behavioural problems. They are great subjects for schools, talent programs and academic competitions. In contrast, creative talents are deviant, they develop in a different way and follow a different path than the others, they are the "weird" kids. They are often difficult to get on with and understand, and they have constant problems fitting in, yet they can create something new and great, something that changes the culture and the world. They can become anything, depending on the amount and kind of support they receive to develop their talents.

Do these children have a place in the mainstream education system?

Today, there are hardly any children for whom the current education is adequate. Especially boys are in a difficult situation, who are less conformist than girls. The method of delivering the curriculum and then testing the students to see how well they have learnt it does not work. Today's children are exposed to a lot of stimuli that interfere with the development of their nervous systems, so they need experiential learning and as much movement as possible. They need to be doing something because if they just sit and listen, their attention will fall apart. It is common in mentoring gifted children to group them in a way that children with similar abilities are together to help them flourish. Sometimes, however, this may not work. Instead of flourishing, they might fight because they develop differently or are of a different type. I am not in favour of selection, but I am in favour of enrichment programs where gifted children who otherwise go to normal schools can meet one or two days a week: they can socialise with their peers and do things that interest them. These 'creative days' are less stressful for the gifted child and, in their absence, a way for their class to relax - a win-win situation. I also think it is important to give them as much free time as possible to be themselves and develop in their own way.

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Photo: Éva Gyarmathy

How should we teach our children to accept the difference, not to exclude the " weird " ones from the classroom?

We should make them understand that we are different, some of us are good at this, and some of us are good at something else. That's why it's good to have gifted children in an average classroom because it gives everyone a taste of natural diversity. In school, children should be given teamwork tasks as often as possible so that they could experience the benefits of diversity and the possibility of succeeding together. They could get to know each other better and understand, for example, why it is good to be slower but also accurate and precise.

At what age does it become obvious that someone is talented?

You can notice very early on if one child is developing faster than the others. But even though someone's abilities are developing faster, they don't necessarily want to achieve more. Such a child will have a relatively easy life because they can get by at half effort. The other type of gifted child will always want more and will do more, and cannot be stopped. The parents of this child tend to make excuses that "I didn't teach him to read at the age of two" or "I didn't tell him about such things, he did it on his own". Because they are so different from the others and find it harder to fit in, they need a lot of attention.

They need to be offered more opportunities and be involved in adult activities to find what interests them. That someone is an outstanding talent does not need to be tested, it is apparent without it.

You should, however, look out for any partial skills differences that could be a barrier. If, for example, a preschool child is already doing multiplication, you should not test whether they are bright enough but rather check if they have good motor skills and are not falling behind in other areas.

Should children be made aware that they are gifted?

It is not good for any child to be labelled as gifted. We shouldn't overpraise how talented, clever or skilful they are, because it can have the opposite effect. Recognise their efforts and give them positive reinforcement: "If you put your mind to it, you can do wonders! It's worth taking the time because you can do it" or "You have so much energy, let's see what you can do with it!" What we reflect back to them is extremely important: if we reflect that they are ‘odd’ they will see themselves as ‘odd’. Whereas if they know that it is only natural that they have other things on their minds than others, and that they are autonomous beings capable of improving and changing things around them, they will be able to integrate their desires with the world and will be happy people.

Do you believe that trees have a soul?

Yes, I do. Or rather, I would say that if you treat the tree well, it will reward you. If a tree is cut down but stored in unsuitable conditions, or dried badly, the wood will split, so it will make you feel that it has not been treated well. But if you treat it with humility, care and professionalism from the start, you can make anything, really, almost anything out of it, and your creation will last.

When did you first become interested in woodworking and what fascinates you about it?

I've been interested in it since I was six or seven. When I came home from school, I always started creating something. I had a file, a hammer, sandpaper and a little table.

At first, I just made jewellery boxes, phone holders, and bracelets for my mum and people I knew, and after finishing primary school it was clear that I wanted to work in the woodworking industry.

I wanted it so much that I applied to only one school, the Mihály Táncsics Vocational School in Veszprém, and I was accepted. As time went by, I became more and more skilled, I kept improving my tools, and finally, I designed and made our kitchen myself. And what is it that fascinates me about this profession? The wood itself. I love to breathe in its scent, I love to just sit and enjoy its veins. All kinds of wood are dear to my heart, but I love oak, ash and walnut more than any other. Everyone in my family is a craftsman: my father is a car mechanic, my grandfather worked as a master metal worker, my older brother is a pastry chef and my younger brother has already graduated from carpentry school.

Four years ago in Kazan, you won a gold medal at the WorldSkills Championships, raising the standard and reputation of our country. What has happened to you since then?

My big dream is to start my own business. I really love Hungary, I want to make a living here and I think that if you are good at what you do, you will find what you are looking for. After the competition, I stayed with the company where I learned the trade, while I am constantly developing my workshop here, expanding my customer base, so that by the time I open my business, all the conditions are in place.

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Photo: WorldSkills

It is perhaps not an understatement to say that WorldSkills is like the Olympics, as you spend months preparing, training, and perfecting your technique.

This is exactly so. Before the world competition in 2016, I also won the Professional Star of the Year competition, one of the prizes for which was a trip to Sweden to watch EuroSkills in Gothenburg. Then, in 2019, a total of 24 Hungarian competitors from 22 different professions, a mix of mental and physical professions, entered Worldskills.

We prepared for the world competition for almost a year, five days a week, 8-12 hours a day at the BKSZC Kaesz Gyula Wood Technology and Vocational School.

Three months before the competition, we found out what the task would be. A vote was held to select from the designs of the participating countries the Irish-designed bar cabinet with thirty per cent modification. My preparation was helped by Zoltán Fekete, a master carpenter and expert - we practised three products and we always made changes to them so that nothing would surprise me during the competition.

It took you four days to assemble the furniture, 21.5 hours in total. Hats off! How important is it for you to create unique pieces?

From bathroom furniture to kitchen furniture, wooden flooring to stairs, I strive to produce quality, practical and unique work. I never make two pieces the same, that's the beauty of it, and that's what I enjoy most! I'm so happy that there is a growing interest in the world for uniqueness and handmade products, be it clothing, home decor or jewellery.

Which is your most memorable work so far?

When I was a student, I made a laundry room with beech veneer kitchen furniture, which I still think of as a challenge.

I worked very hard on every single detail. Just as special to me is the set of short drink holders in the shape of a hand planer that I gave to my teachers as a graduation present.

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Photo: Krisztián Simon

I speak on my own when I say that higher education institutions are full of graduates, but it is these graduates who freeze up when they have to fix something at home - we immediately cry out for a craftsman. I get the feeling you don't regret not going to college...

My teachers shook their heads when they found out! But I couldn't imagine myself sitting in an office in front of a laptop all day long. I still find that something unimaginable. The Hungarian Chamber of Commerce and Industry and the vocational training centres are doing a lot - including investing in digital tools - to encourage more people to learn a trade. And we do need creative, dedicated and original professionals in our country! Every year since I won WorldSkills, I've been a judge at the qualifying rounds and I've seen more and more young people with skills, which is very reassuring for the future.

You spend most of your days at the planing table. Do you ever feel lonely?

Just the opposite: it gives me peace of mind to hear the monotonous noise of the machine, and to have ideas swirling around in my head. For me, work is also me-time.

We have just recovered from the shock of the pandemic, then the outbreak of war, and now we are trying to cope with the effects of the economic crisis in our lives. In this difficult terrain, we have to cope with 'everyday' challenges, too such as pressures at work, family conflicts, problems around children, or a series of unexpected decisions. We find it harder and harder to escape the treadmill of our fast-paced daily lives, which is perhaps why we are increasingly longing for quality me-time.

A well-planned pilgrimage is an excellent opportunity to do this, and it can be more than a simple hike or physical test: such a journey can, if we are willing and let it, lead us inwards towards our true selves, towards other people, and towards God.

A pilgrimage can also be seen as an allegory of our life since we are constantly confronted with bends, crossroads, mountains, and valleys during our life journey here on earth. We can experience all these while walking on the pilgrim trails, searching for the deeper meaning of our existence.

Hungary is a great place to go on pilgrimage, offering countless opportunities, beautiful trails, and historic holy sites. So now let's get to know the most beautiful and best-known pilgrim trails in Hungary, filling our time spent outdoors in the awakening nature with content on one of the Hungarian trails. We have put together a non-exhaustive list of the different routes to help you do this.

1. The Way of St James

Set off to arrive! There are two official starting points and routes for the Hungarian section of the Camino de Santiago. The main route starts from Budapest, at the Zero Kilometer Stone, and after about 200 kilometers you will arrive at the beautiful 800-year-old Romanesque church of St James in Lébény, which was an important stopping point for pilgrims of the past. And the Camino Benedictus, the branch of the St James pilgrimage route in Hungary linking Benedictine monasteries, starts from the Benedictine Abbey of Tihany and arrives at the church in Lébény after about 170 kilometres. From here, you can continue on to Slovakia and Austria, or all the way to Santiago de Compostela. You can find out about the routes, practical and spiritual preparation and other details on the St James' Way website.

https://www.szentjakabut.hu/

2. Hungarian Pilgrim Route

The Hungarian Pilgrims’ Route (Magyar Zarándokút) leads from Esztergom to Máriagyűd, passing through holy places in Hungary. It passes through various historical routes (Roman road, Árpád-era roads, pilgrimage route to Jerusalem, route of the Crusades, The Way of St. James, etc.), from north to south.

It crosses Hungary from border to border, passing through the Pilis in the North, the Kiskunság National Park in the middle and the Mecsek Hills in the South. The total length of the pilgrimage route is about 431 kilometers, but including detours, it can be nearly 600 kilometers.

Half of the route is mountainous and the other half is flat lowland. The organizers suggest walking from the end of March to mid-November and say it requires a minimum of 16 days. At a more comfortable pace and with detours, it takes 18-24 days to complete. Pilgrimage accommodation is available at a reduced rate where possible, but a pilgrimage pass is required. For further details and information, please visit the website of the Hungarian Pilgrim's Route.

https://magyarzarandokut.hu

3. Via Mariae

The Via Mariae (Way of Mary) is not a route in itself, but rather a network of roads linking the different sanctuaries dedicated to Mary in Central Europe. Its east-west axis runs from Mariazell in Austria to Csíksomlyó in Transylvania, Romania, and there is also a north-south route; together they form a cross across Central Europe. The total length of the route is around 1,400 kilometers, which the organizers say can be covered on foot in 60 days. The Via Mariae is still being completed, and new sections will be added to the map to make the list of pilgrimage sites as complete as possible. For its Hungarian section, which includes the holy places of our people linked to Mary into the European route, the organizers have included, among others, the towns of Mariagyűd and Máriapócs. On their website, interactive pilgrimage maps, route descriptions, a list of holy places and accommodation can help you plan your own pilgrimage.

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Pilgrims at the church in Mariapócs - Photo: nyirgorkat.hu

www.mariaut.hu

4. Via Margaritarum (The Way of the Pearls)

We are all on a journey - says the motto. According to the organizers, the spiritual arc of the Way of the Pearls is formed by the historical and sacred sites along the route, as well as a reflection booklet called The Pearls of Life. The entire 760-kilometer route connects Mátraverebély-Szentkút, Hungary, and Mariazell, Austria which were declared national shrines in 2006, while the nearly 180-kilometer route from Budapest to Mátraverebély is a pilgrimage route in itself.

It links such prominent cities of medieval Hungary as Buda, Esztergom, Székesfehérvár or Veszprém.

The website also offers practical advice as well as spiritual guidance.

https://www.gyongyokutja.hu/

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Mátraverebély-Szentkút, Church of Our Lady - Source: Wikipedia

5. The Way of St Elizabeth

Although the veneration of Saint Elizabeth has connected many people over the centuries, this actual, designated route has been open to modern-day pilgrims since 2007. It consists of five sections, starting from Sárospatak, where St Elisabeth of the House of Árpád was born. Passing through Bodrogolaszi, Komlóska, Erdőhorváti, Regéc, Telkibánya, Hollóháza and Füzér, the pilgrims cross the border via Alsómislye and Koksóbaksa to reach the final destination, the cathedral of Kassa in Slovakia. The five-day pilgrimage traditionally starts with a blessing after the Holy Mass on Pentecost Monday. Routes, historical overviews, and other general information are available on the website.

https://www.szenterzsebetut.hu/

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Komlóska, a village on the Way of St. Elizabeth - Photo: Andrea Csongor

6. St Martin's Way (Via Sancti Martini)

In 2005, the Council of Europe designated the route from Szombathely, Hungary to Tours, in France as a European Cultural Route to honour the life and outstanding monuments of the iconic saint Saint Martin, Europe's most popular saint. Saint Martin's life was marked by miracles and healings, and he also carried out important missionary work. The Way of Saint Martin is organized around two focal points, one in Szombathely (formerly Savaria), where Saint Martin was born, and the other in Tours, the former seat of his bishopric, where his tomb is located. The main route passes through Hungary, Slovenia, Italy, and France, with branches to several European countries. The Hungarian section of the route runs from Szombathely to Kercaszomor, a total length of 700 kilometers, of which only 100 kilometers are on the main route. For a detailed description of each route, news, and updates, visit the website.

https://www.viasanctimartini.eu/

7. Route of Medieval Churches

The Medieval Churches Trail leads through the northeastern regions of the Carpathian Basin, through the Szabolcs-Szatmár-Bereg county (Hungary), the Partium region (Romania), and the Transcarpathian region (Ukraine), linking the medieval churches of these areas, which are of unique artistic and historical value. Although the entire route includes sites in Transcarpathia and Máramaros (Maramures) region, Romania most of the attractions are in Hungary.

The Upper Tisza Region is a land of medieval churches, one of Hungary's richest landscapes in medieval ecclesiastical monuments, where the periods of Gothic and Reformation have left a unique cultural heritage.

The medieval churches in the villages of Csaroda, Lónya, Csengersima, Sonkád, Nyírbátor, and Csenger are all outstanding monuments of Hungarian art history. The route website provides, among other things, very detailed descriptions of the individual churches, monasteries, and villages.

www.templomut.hu

There are only a few loves in life like the love I had with her. I had known her for only five days, yet I felt closer to her than to anyone. I met her and love in France, as a guest of an international ecumenical monastic community. She was an American on a trip to Europe and I was the organizer. We spent six days in one place and then she went back to America. During that time we had one long afternoon together when we went to the next village. That's when it hit me: I'm 26 years old, and up until that moment I'd never experienced the feeling of being loved back. She was the first person I felt I didn't need to show myself differently, behave differently, conform, or prove myself. We were instantly on the same wavelength.

In those six days, we hugged only twice, nothing else happened between us.

Still, I knew when we went to bed at night, each to our own quarters: we were becoming more and more attached to each other. I was beginning to feel like a half-drunk.
For me, love is an intense self-awakening, an encounter with myself, in which one's innermost being can come out clearly. Love is a revelation that reaches the deepest layers of a person. It tears apart our safety nets and reveals the radiant essence of the human being while causing our deepest wounds. It is to this feeling, which is creative and destructive at the same time, that our most brutal wounds and our most beautiful experiences are linked. It is the person who is in love, or who has lost love, who writes the best and most powerful poems and songs because they experience an emotion so saturated and transcendent of the everyday. We experience a reality beyond reality when we are in love.
It was an unimaginable and suffocating feeling when she boarded the bus and disappeared around the bend to be in Los Angeles two days later. I had never wanted to go to America until that moment, but I knew then that I would because you can't just let go of that feeling. Until then, life had taught me that you can let go of everyone, you shouldn't get too attached to anyone. But I didn't let go of her, and she didn't let go of me either. We wrote letters for months. It was clear from our first letters, we both felt the same. We were in a long-distance relationship for two and a half years, then I lived in Los Angeles for three months and then she lived three months in Hungary. 
From the very beginning of our relationship, the agony of a quick, forced separation, the movie Katapult was born, a double award-winner at the Chicago International Children's Film Festival. My first feature film, The First Two, depicts the last hectic days of the relationship in the capital city, tightrope-walking on the line between reality and dream.

The beginning and the end – both experiences were more for me than a person can bear.

I couldn't help but write about this feeling, keeping in mind all the time to protect her, the love we have experienced, the reality and transience of which is ours alone.

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The poster of the film The First Two

I'm a director, an old-fashioned filmmaker who makes it his vocation. I've always had something to do with film since I was a kid. And like many people who create, I believe that you can only give, you can only speak from what you have experienced and what you know. I used to be very scared to show myself, but my mentor in Scotland told me: "You'll only make good films if you stop hiding yourself. You have to go to the very edge of a cliff, but only until you don’t fall off. You have to teeter on the edge, that's what Art is about."
Filmmaker - I was introduced to the term when I was five, thanks to my mum. I could already see stories and characters in my head, but as I couldn't write then, I drew them and asked my mum to write in the bubbles what they said. My parents were the first to tell me about great directors, like Bergman, Fellini, or Spielberg, and my father explained to me what made a film brilliant, the timing, the tension, or the characters. It was in a conversation like that that I said I was going to be a film director. My family initially found my directorial ambitions amusing, but then they began to have concerns for me in this world. They saw that it was an unsure profession with a lot of sacrifices. They showed the Harry Potter film adaptation I had shot as a teenager with my sister to a family friend, film director András Dér and asked him what he thought of my film and the directing, and he said, "If someone loves what he is  doing so much as a child, he shouldn't be talked out of it."

I understood my parents' concern. In my family, the idea was that art was a source of pleasure, essential for the soul, but having a proper job beside it is necessary. My grandparents were church-going people under communism, which was one of the reasons why they were labeled as ‘unreliable’. They started from a disadvantaged background, so they experienced always having to be twice as good as those around them, having to fight for everything - I bring that from home.

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Photos: archive, Csaba Hart

I feel I owe it to them to do whatever I do with maximum effort. Success doesn't come easy, and if it does comes easy, it's not real success.
That's why I never gave up during the shoots, because if I felt that that was it, that was the end, then I always realized I hadn't tried hard enough.
When I graduated from high school, the Institute of Film and Media of the University of Theatre and Cinematography only launched courses every three or four years, and it wasn’t one of those years so I could apply that year. Many people suggested that the Pázmány Catholic University would give me a good basis for a degree in film directing - and indeed, its intellectual environment opened me up to the world. Our film classes gave me the space to try my hand. I graduated from Pázmány University in 2013, and after that, I tried twice to get into the Institute of Film and Media, without success. For a while I worked in the editorial department of a cultural television station, I loved the environment there but felt it wasn't for me. Going out on the street and interviewing with a camera is very different from what I want to do.
I had to make a move. I looked at where in Europe there is a film training course that doesn't cost tens of millions of forints per year, that is in English, of high quality, and has a good university background, not "just" a film school. I ended up studying in Scotland, where the film directing course was part of the University of Edinburgh. When I held my diploma in my hand, I felt a void. I was tired and there was a hopeless silence inside me, I couldn't see a way forward.
I went to France to volunteer for three months. I gave myself three months to think about where to go next. At the age of 26, I was in a life crisis, even though I had always been sure that I wanted to be a film director. I had a spiritual counselor who I talked to a lot.

I thought about other vocations, even the priesthood came to my mind. But I couldn't give up love. The feeling that inspired both my films.

The magic of the ecumenical community was there in the feeling, the Love, which is the basic experience of my film The First Two. There we were like two people at the beginning of the world, not yet bound by principles, expectations, or customs.
The film plays with this idea: what if the two characters in the film had been the first two people to fall in love at the beginning of history? When living in a community, the best version of everyone appears, which is also a big trap. Because then you go home, and reality intrudes, which is not only the 10,000 kilometers of distance, but what you feel when you're lying inches away, and there's that intangible distance between you, created by different cultures, socialization, customs, and values. We had an exhilarating summer in Hungary, which was the strongest inspiration for my film, after which we felt that we couldn't go back to writing letters, that we had to have some fake, paper-based marriage to at least be on the same continent. Of course, we weren't ready for marriage, but it was the distance that we suffered the most from. Both of my films were born out of tension, one from the feeling of meeting and then parting, and the other from the tension of realizing that you have to let go of the other for the happiness of both of you. Because the distance is too great on all levels and you can't overcome it. If you are physically in the same place, you may have the time and space to work out strategies for your relationship, even if you have completely different worldviews.

But to be separated by 10,000 kilometers, 9 hours of time difference, and to think about the world in a completely different way – these two together were too much for us, it was something we couldn’t overcome.

I don’t want to start a long-distance relationship anymore. It's a trivial example, but I need to be able to sit down with the person to watch a movie, not online, at the same time, where sometimes the other person says something like this, "Let's stop it for a second, let's rewind it because I'm going out for a drink or someone's come in". It's important to me for this to be a real, shared experience. I need the other person to really be there with me.

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Photo: Csaba Hart

Back then I was looking for the big fire, I found it, and I will always be grateful to have lived it, but today I don't need that big flame. Something has quieted down in me: I'm looking for peace these days. This love has shaped me the most, it has made me understand myself more, what is important to me. Now, as I stood in front of the poster of my film in the Puskin cinema, I didn't have the euphoric feeling I thought I would have. Perhaps the experience of fulfillment will come when I face the audience in the cinema auditorium.
The First Two is a black-and-white movie – there were technical and human reasons for this. The technical reason is that shooting on a micro-budget, under hectic conditions – taking into account, for example, what the weather is like, what the lights are like – you can unify the world of the film much more in black and white than in colour. In human terms, it's in black and white because my experience is that when I look back on the last day, it's a terribly plain experience. There are no colours on a day like that, it numbs your perception.

When you're standing next to the other person and you know you're going to lose them, there are no coloured memories left there. There you only remember feelings, movements, and faces. And the pain.

Agony is black and white. Because then you are not living outside, but inside. What these two young lovers are experiencing then and there is binary: yes or no? Will we be together tomorrow or not? Will you get on the plane or not? These are yes or no. It's a pure decision situation. The biggest loss of my life, the greatest experience of my life: when I was able to love. And as Sándor Weöres wrote: "It was worth being born just for that one day."

The story was written by Emese Kosztin based on the memories of Balázs Szövényi-Lux.

At my birthday party, I looked in disbelief at the many people in our apartment that my husband had invited with the help of some randomizer (old classmates, current friends, arch-enemies, co-workers, neighbors, but for some reason my brother and dad were not invited), are they really blowing up balloons? And do they honestly think I'm the least bit excited about it? That it is written in huge letters everywhere that I'm 40, which just slaps it in my face, that the end of everything has begun, that from now on my life will be a predictable, not really long, journey, with all the stages I know in advance, and that my slowly disintegrating body - until it is eaten away by the diseases I read about every day on the internet - will only be able to consume secondary, or even tertiary, joy juice? For my part, I would have liked to have skipped the whole birthday thing, but there were already balloons, lanterns, and enthusiastic guests, so I choked back the tears and went through with the fun. I consoled myself with the fact that most of our guests looked older and shakier than me. 
They say, some men in mid-life crisis sell their cars and buy a convertible. I'm a relatively masculine character, but I don't drive and I can't afford a convertible. I still had the option of replacing my husband's car with a newer, more open-top version - but somehow that didn't appeal to me either, I was happy with his current car, which was almost 20 years old and which I had regularly maintained.

So there was only one option I thought: a new baby! It would make me beautiful, rejuvenate me, and give me back my faith in life! The big ones are about to fly out anyway: 17, 16, and 10 years old, they look less and less like children.

I'm sure I'll be more enthusiastic about writing because I've been pretty lazy lately. No more lounging around all day, scrolling on Facebook, binge watching TV series! There will be a baby, a tight schedule, and discipline again! Reading up, I learned that children of mothers over forty are often more intelligent and smarter than the kids of younger moms - and they are born into a family with a high level of emotional and financial security. (The article did not specifically mention the families of teachers, but maybe the new child will make us feel better!) OK, that's the solution, that's what I need.
I asked my husband what he would think about such a thing. - "Sure, maybe," he said with a kind shrug. Great, exactly the answer I was waiting for! As the fourth in a family of seven children, I think he would be happy to have him/her, the fourth in our model.
With great enthusiasm, I made an appointment with my (male) gynaecologist and explained my ambitious plans. The gynaecologist looked at me wearily.

– You mean, now? When you are finally able to sleep at night because your kids are grown? When you could go to the movies and have a beer with them? And when they finally fly out, you and your husband could spend more time together, which you haven’t had a chance to do for who knows how long?

Suspicious, I asked him:
- How old is your child?
- One and a half, – he said, with a grey face.
- That's different – I chuckled grudgingly. – It's your first, but we're very experienced, it’ll be our fourth, and we'll do everything easy peasy. I'm going to be the coolest mother in the world!

He just grunted at that, then he examined me and said:
– Borbála, you're not young anymore, and your ovaries aren't either. There's no way of knowing how many ovaries have any fertilizable eggs in them at all, and whether they're genetically defective, so I'd say there's about a two to three percent chance of you getting pregnant spontaneously at that age.
What???? I could hardly breathe! What does he think I am? An old woman? He practically called me barren! Me, who had three children, got pregnant in a month and gave birth without any problems. I was determined to prove to him that he was out of luck calling me an old bag. I'm still as prolific as a rabbit. It won't be two months before I'm back in prenatal care!
It was. Not two, but even four, six, eight, twelve. And as those months went by (and I wasn’t forty anymore but forty-one) slowly my eyes got used to the gloomy wood. It didn't seem scary anymore, I started to see the roads again, the lovely paths into the future. We started going to the cinema, restaurants, and swimming pools with my husband, having long talks with our little grown-ups.

I finally started my new novel, and I've made good progress. There was time for exercise, time for a haircut, and in general: I was beginning to wonder what my problem was with my life a year ago. It is better than ever! Freer, more colorful, more complete.

There was only one thing that bothered me a lot: the smells. Somehow everything smelled so bad. I ran out of the public toilet vomiting, but then I got a raging hunger and stuffed myself with three burgers.
– Well, congratulations! – the gynaecologist shook his head sadly. - You got your wish. Six weeks pregnant. The due date is 17 September 2020. It's going to be a tough ride, especially at this age. But cheer up! I wish you strength and as much joint mobility as possible for the future!

I thanked him for his words of encouragement and made an appointment for prenatal care with a female gynecologist.

A relative of famous poets

Amália Bezerédj was born in 1804, the first child of Antónia Szegedy and György Bezerédj. The Bezerédj family was one of the oldest noble families, having many war victims in Hungarian history, ex.: at the battle of Pozsony, Mohács, and Zimony, and among their ancestors was Imre Bezerédj, who was commander-in-chief of the Hungarian armies and general of Ferenc Rákóczi II. His soldiers loved him and even wrote his name in the folksong: "Hey, Rákóczi, Bercsényi, Bezerédj ...". The extensive noble family had estates in almost 40 settlements. High officials and writers, poets, sculptors, and musicians also came from the family. Amália's father was also a talented man, active in political life, fond of literature and music, and even wrote his own biography in Latin. Antónia Szegedy's sister Róza Szegedy was the muse and wife of the poet Sándor Kisfaludy, whose younger brother Károly Kisfaludy became one of the greatest representatives of Hungarian Romanticism as a poet and painter.

It is no wonder that Amália loved literature and music as a child. She was an excellent pianist, harpist, and singer, and was famous for her ability to play every melody by ear. In addition to Hungarian, she was fluent in German, French, English, and Latin. She was taught not only by her tutor but also by her father, and her mother thought it important that she learn domestic chores.

And she had another responsibility, too, since she was the eldest child: their mother was very ill, so from the age of ten she helped to raise her six little siblings.

She fell in love with her future husband as a child

Amália grew up fast, raising her siblings, and love came early in her life. A distant relative, István Bezerédj, was a lawyer apprentice for Amália's father and taught the then-only thirteen-year-old girl to paint. A deep friendship developed between the two young people, which soon became love. In 1819 they confessed their feelings to each other, and István Bezerédj wrote to his mother: “I have a sea of good luck, my sweet Mother! She has confessed to return my love. Oh, how great it is, I never thought I could be loved so, and so great a happiness open to me.".

They decided to marry, but Amália was only fifteen, so they waited two more years. On her seventeenth birthday, they were tied in holy matrimony and settled on István Bezerédj's estate in Tolna County. Their home in Hidja soon became the famous intellectual center of the Hungarian Biedermeier period, hosting visitors such as Ferenc Deák (Hungarian statesman and Minister of Justice), Statesman and later Prime Minister Lajos Batthyány or Miklós Wesselényi (leader of the Upper House of the Diet). The guests talked about politics, read aloud, played music for each other, or relaxed by playing cards and riding carriages or horseback. In the summer, they relaxed in Balatonfüred, drank from the water of the fountain in Füred, and in the evening they had a house concert. In 1830, István was elected representative of Tolna County, so they often stayed in Pozsony (Bratislava), the place of the Diets, where not only István worked, but Amália also actively supported her husband's political ambitions.

Violets in love letters

Despite her young age, Amália became a true intellectual companion to her husband. She was a bright, witty, and cultured woman, and István, unlike most men of that age, treated his wife as an equal. They read, planned, and worked together. However, their work together was made increasingly difficult by Amália's long illness. She often had to retreat to the countryside to heal, far from her husband, but their love was not weakened by the distance. This is clear from their correspondence.

The violet was Amália's favourite flower, and István had pressed violets left in his many, many letters, which the spouses sent to each other.

Amália wrote to her husband about one such occasion, "The violets have brought me much joy. It is more the thoughtfulness of a worshipper than of a husband. I, on the other hand, who am now more in love than I was three or four years ago, find it quite natural; I ask only my own heart, and I do not want to ask anything else when it is a question of my István’s feelings."

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An illustration from the Book of Flóri

The first Hungarian rural kindergarten

Their most important common goal became the education of Hungarian children. Together, they helped to run the schools of their county, initiated the foundation of a kindergarten in Szekszárd and the school in Tolna training kindergarten teachers, and fought for the reform of the training of elementary school teachers. They were the first in the country to establish a rural kindergarten for children aged 3-8-9 on their estates. They had their press house in Hidja converted into a school for the children of the poor people of the plain land, who were taught here to read, write and count, but had subjects such as nature study, Bible, Hungarian geography, Hungarian history, singing, health, morals, and manners, too. They were given a small plot of land of their own, on which they could grow vegetables, and they also took part in caring for the plants and animals. They had a mineralogical collection, a globe, a playground, swings and balls. The activities were varied and short.

They sang and moved between each lesson, so there was no need for discipline or punishment.

Amália Bezerédj visited the kindergarten-elementary school in person. She also made learning easier for the children with her love and small acts of kindness.

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A teaching from the Book of Flori: "If you torture animals, you show your bad heart"

The fruit of their love: Flóri

Their child was born in 1834, whom Ferenc Deák called the "little girl of the Diet", because she was born in Pozsony during the Diet. They chose the name Floriana for her at her baptism, thus introducing the girl's name “Flóra” to Hungary. The girl was also enrolled in the kindergarten-school they founded, where she was able to make friends and learn with the children of the serfs and servants. Amália also spent a lot of time with her little daughter, quickly introducing her to letters and numbers. She told her stories, made up stories for her, taught her French and German, and made sure she spent time outdoors playing with the animals.

István intended his daughter to be an emancipated woman, and the parents' correspondence reveals that Flóri demanded her human rights from a young age - if she was denied something, she would say "I am a human being".

Because of his work, the father was away from his little daughter quite often, but even then he frequently corresponded with his wife about their child and always sent a message to his little girl: a kiss and a promise to take her to see beautiful flowers and foals when he came home.

Her first earnings: 25 forints

In the society of the time, it was often frowned upon for a woman to pick up a pen and write. It was believed that women writers and poets could not be good mothers and housewives. Amália was lucky that her husband did not think so. István Bezerédj also fought for women's rights in parliament and even spoke out in favour of women's right to vote at a district session of the 1843-44 parliament. He also supported his wife in her efforts. Amália used her own artistic means to fight for women's equality, women's participation in public life, the education of young children, and teacher training. She regularly wrote short stories in Hungarian and German about the problems of women's lives and of the social prejudice they faced. Her husband congratulated her on her success and on her first income: 25 forints for a published short story. Amália was a composer, too. She was very fond of Hungarian folk songs and folk music, and a piece of music of hers was published under a pseudonym in a collected volume of Hungarian Songs from Veszprém County. It was called Verbunkos Kotta, which was included among the works of famous composers such as Márk Rózsavölgyi and Antal Csermák.

The birth of the Hungarian children's book

Her husband encouraged her to write stories for their daughter and the children at their kindergarten in Hidja. And so was born the Book of Flóri (short for Floriana), the first original Hungarian children's book, in which Amália created songs to accompany the stories, poems, and sayings.

She was also driven by the goal of writing a suitable textbook for nursery school teachers, as she knew how much need there was for songs, poems, and stories in Hungarian.

She opened with the alphabet, then continued with stories and prayers, followed by poems and sayings about good behaviour, nature, pets, and the world. In between, she worked on another reading book for young people in Hungarian. This was the Evenings in Földes, in which the characters discuss education, human rights, and talent in dialogue form.

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A few illustrations from the Book of Flori

Unfortunately, Amália did not live to see the books published. She died of lung disease in the autumn of 1837, aged 33. Her works were published by her husband in 1840. István was determined to preserve his wife's works for posterity, so he was very keen to organize Amalia's literary legacy and throughout his life, he endeavoured to ensure that the book reached as many families and institutions as possible. He was also proud to promote his wife's work, The Book of Flori, among noble families. He was pleased to write in a letter that the Archduke's family already had a copy of the book, and that the Batthyánys' little daughter knew the sayings by heart. It is no coincidence that until 1860 it was one of the most widely read works in Hungary. The great Hungarian story writer and collector, Elek Benedek once wrote: "My first book was not the ABC, but the first real Hungarian children's book, the Book of Flóri. [...] From the soul of this little book sprouted the vast tree of my children's and youth books. This is what made me indebted to the children's world: to give you, children, all the beauty that one book has brought to the child's soul."

Literature used:

• Bezerédj Amália: Flóri könyve
• Fábri Anna: „A szép tiltott táj felé” – A magyar írónők története két századforduló között (1795–1905)
• Kurucz Rózsa: A tehetséges, európai műveltségű Bezerédj Amália (1804–1837) öröksége
• Magyar Történeti Életrajzok/ BEZERÉDJ ISTVÁN (1796–1856)
• Zibolen Endre: Bezerédj Amália/ Köznevelési Évkönyv