Farewell to Europe, again

I am winding up my last night in Europe, for now, listening to a wonderful jazz trio play a set. The hotel bar has a terrific selection of wines and coffees and food, and great live music ... 

(I'm right now listening  to a fusion of "Sunrise, Sunset" and some sort of Argentine tango. Fabulous). 

Gone are the days when I would willingly cram myself, 8 people to a room, in a hostel. (And of course, if I had to, I would. But I'm using some "free hotel points" for my stay here, and it is VERY much appreciated). In fact, since the accommodations in Sárospatak are convenient to the institution and community based, but not full of "comforts," I have been able to relax all the more in Budapest. I will be returning to the United States, and to my fiancé, reasonably well-rested, and even more important, I took a little time on my own (today) to process what the summer of work has been. 

Some people might say that I should not take any time away from anyone else, that the three (+) weeks away in the United States were enough and that I should have immediately returned home. 

(For the record, my fiancé was not one of these people).

But, I contend, having a day of rest to myself was *very* important. I walked around, and I rested when I needed to. If I were following the vacation schedule of some people I know, they are up before dawn and they do things all day long. 

THAT is not a vacation to me. I woke up at a reasonable time, and did two things that were crucial. 

Moved at my own pace and volume. (Two things that I don't get to do musically all the time, actually. A lot of that gets dictated in one form or another). 

Today brought some amazing moments. I had a moment of complete peace, and calm, in the middle of one of Pest's squares. The breeze was perfect, and everything was silent - inside and out. 

That will be my goal for the upcoming year. Peace, inside and out. I needed to put a little investment into my "peace bank account." The year ahead will be wonderful. It will also not be easy. 

I will leave you with the final stanza of one of my favorite poems, from one of my favorite American poets. This is the conclusion of Edna St. Vincent Millay's "THE CONCERT." I was introduced to this poem by a friend and colleague who I met nine years ago at Tanglewood.

"Come now, be content.

I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall be only a little taller
Than when I went."

The question will never be if I will make it back. Or if Zheng will know me. Or if I will know myself. The question surely is, just how tall, and by how much.  

PHOTOS: Are from today's adventures in Budapest.

In Vino Veritas

Last Sunday meant the "day off" so it also meant an activity (if the Crescendo students and staff chose to do so). I signed up for the wine-tasting which also included a really nice meal and trip to a vineyard. Still feeling the effects of the night before (see the post "wedding crashers" - ), I dragged myself onto the bus with my friends. 

The meal was exquisite (this place has been written up in the New York Times) and the wine served with it was also amazing! We then headed out to the vineyard for the "wine tasting." The trek took us to the top of a hill, where we tasted two dry white wines (these were my favorite of the afternoon). We got to enjoy the wine while looking around at the entire region. 

Following the "mountaintop experience," we went to the wine cellar. Amazing cool - cold, even! Thank goodness (most of the weather during our time in Hungary was hot!). I was able to get some great pictures of the "luxury room" - wine that, in total, was worth 6 million Euros!

We had our final bit of tasting in tasting room (still in the cellar). Here, I was really starting to feel the fatigue brought on by the night before. The wines also got progressively sweeter. That is a specialty of the Hungarian Tokaj Wine. (Sweet wines have never been my thing, though. I'm a dry red / dry white / Prosecco lady). 

The bus took us back and we joined everyone for the grill party, near the castle. Luckily, there was such a large crowd that I snuck home after a couple of group Hungarian dances. Monday was business as usual, and that meant plenty of rest was imperative.

PHOTOS: are from our wine adventures this day. 

Morning Routine

Greetings again from Hungary! I am happily concluding Crescendo Summer Institute's "Preparatory Week" in Sárospatak and we are knee-deep here in Don Giovanni. This music and text continue to astound me!

I just finished a short "blog" post which my iPad is (for some reason) not allowing me to open, so I must write another one before retiring. I have been doing some pondering on the following item:

Coffee.

During my trip to China, I barely had any (when I am out of the US, I do not patronize US institutions, which include McDonalds and Starbucks. Some friends think this is nuts. Why would I not want to try the local flavors?).

But, my love affair with a wonderful espresso or a beautiful cappucino is not to be underestimated. It is with these "amanti" (Italian plural word for "lovers") that I accomplish:

1. Morning sanity
2. Setting up my day
3. Setting up what I will practice
4. Reading my wonderful electronic-versions of "The New Yorker" and "The New York Times," keeping in touch with the world, culture, and dreaming of a location where I could live with my fiancé!
5. Score study and-or libretto analysis
6. If I am in the company of another, wonderful conversation (which is a gift in itself!)

Some financial experts get upset about spending money on coffee (i.e. they advise that you make it at home). But some of these people have never traveled to Italy (where even the coffees at the local bar are life-changing), or they do not realize that transporting a tea kettle and coffee of whatever flavor and variety in a suitcase is not worth saving $10.00 or $20.00.

And also, because of the things mentioned above, it helps me enjoy each day a little more. It makes my life better, more pleasant, and happier. That is a small price to pay, I think.

PHOTO: My gift this morning from a clever Kávézó női (Coffee Maker or Barista who is female) in town.

Putting on the Pampered Dog

Dear friends,

Well, it's been a flurry of activity getting "accustomed" to American living again. (And it's not for the faint-at-heart to return to an intense degree, at an intense place, the week before Finals, having been gone for the previous three!). So my presence here has been decidedly absent.

Bob left a note on my blog saying that I needed to finally *explain* two of the running jokes of the China tour. The first is called "Putting on the Dog," an older version of the current "Puttin' on the Ritz." It was fun to explain this joke to Zheng. As anyone knows who speaks several languages, it is a mark of fluency when you can "pun" or use idiomatic phrases in a tongue that's not your own. You can read more about this here: (http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/put+on+the+dog).

People certainly "put on the dog" for us, the entire time. This included: meals with 13-17 dishes on the Lazy Susan, fancy outings, Beijing renting a van and driver for us to go see the Great Wall at Badaling, Ayeing sending us home with more gifts than I could have ever imagined.

The other joke began in the business-class lounge at Sea-Tac. Bob joked that Ellen and I "respond well to pampering." This eventually became the slogan "Better Life Through Pampering," (BLTP for short). We joked about things on the trip being on the "BLTP" program.

Things that were on the BLTP program: lattes, anything in business class, our hotel in Kunming, Ellen getting a massage, etc. Things that were *not*: riding in bread trucks, not being able to find a taxi, taking crowded subways, and problematic or non-existent internet connections in hotels.

(Also, when one of us was ill, or when things weren't going "as planned," like not having lights for a dress-rehearsal, we joked that this was "eating the dog.").

 

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