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Archive for November, 2009

How I found a husband

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

Well, no Hungarian gypsy looks like Brad Pitt from the Snatch…

You can divide them into two groups: musicians, dealers and criminals. Those are three? Does not matter….

Those who are not making the final of the Hungarian-American Idol can go into the last group ;-)

When I was small and declared in the kindergarten I was a gypsy (well, I looked like one) my Mom almost sank under the ground in her shame….later she taught me that being one is not a chosen life style but you have to be born to be gypsy.

Still, I have a strange attraction toward them.

Every single Sunday morning there is a gypsy junk- market in Budapest what is one of my favorite places to visit. Alone. None of my blue stocking friends are wishing to escort me there.

I call these trips “treasure hunting”. You can find there anything you not even dreamed of.

This time I went for some old Bakelite discs for decorating my living room with them.

Then I wanted the New Moon DVD, just weeks before the official premier. Then some after- war old, original Xmas post cards, still not written and for those “whispering” Santa Clause bags I used to got into my candies when I was small. Hungarian kids got them not into a sock but in a special cellophane bag placed into the shiny shoes on the doormat.

Important part of adventure is to dress up for the market. No problem, with my Hawaiian tan, then a “whispering” warm- up training suit (+ obligatory baseball hat) with a matching trainer ( the newest Avia Bolt with the Troy Lee design just an ice on the cake ;-)

Wandering among the rows suddenly something caught my eyes. A sad Teddy bear was sitting all alone on the desk among some useless tools.

He was the exact copy of mine own at home only a bit bigger and darker in tone.

When I took him into my arms he gave that funny noise from the belly, a crying bear…

In an instant two things happened: some blood overflows from my heart and suddenly I slode down in a time-funnel I found myself in a toy store with my Mom front of a shelf filled with different wonders: dolls, bears, fairies…

“Which one would you like to have?”-asked my Mom and I pointed to my cutie with a certainty only a child can have in that important question, like choosing a partner for a life time…when the shopkeeper handed her into my hands, she gave this same little noise from the belly, a helpless bear cry. The same cry. (Maci became the most trendy bear in the country, dressed up in a retro- communist style designed and made by the little Coco Chanel J)

When I looked up into the gypsy grinning face I new I made a huge mistake….

Asking the prize- eye witnessing my hands holding the bear to my heart- he gave some enormous and ridiculous prize…he knew he got me.

When you about to find the husband for your honey bear you do not sink down to barging….

I am at home now happy with my treasures; true the New Moon DVD only sporting Russian speaking….

And here are the honey mooners:

bear-love