(A nearly accurate hashumentary)
It all started with an email message from the powers that be. It was one of those messages that most people delete because it had the word “volunteer” in it. For some reason I read it, maybe because I had the time, and maybe because I was looking for some new and unknown experience in my life. The purpose of the message was to obtain volunteers to perform military liaison duties in former WARSAW nations. I consulted with others on the idea of volunteering for this program. The consultations resulted in receiving replies such as You’re crazy” and “They’ll never choose you, you must know someone on the inside to get a job like that”. With no idea of what I was getting myself into, I disregarded my colleagues’ comments and volunteered. My simple rationale was that no one would send a request like that unless there was a real need. That thinking, of course, revealed my ignorance of politics and how it worked. So I pressed on.
Two months later, I received a nicely written message from the people who were in charge of selecting the lucky volunteers to participate in the program. What I got was “Thank you very much for volunteering, however, you did not make the grade, so we chose someone else for duty in Albania”. Oh, well, I thought, maybe my colleagues were right. I kept my volunteer status active for the next round of selections.
Then, I received another nicely written correspondence saying “Thank you for volunteering, but you were not selected for duty in Macedonia”. “Who wants to go to Macedonia anyway?” I thought. This was the most effective way of telling myself I wasn’t a loser. So I remained a volunteer for the program, because I was able to convince myself that I’m not that much of a geek and it could hurt nothing but my pride if I get these “REJECTION” notices every 30 days.
A month later, after losing mostly all confidence in ever getting selected, and two weeks before I was to go to Italy for 4 months on an unrelated assignment, I was contacted by European Command to tell me I was selected for duty in Budapest, Hungary. I quickly found a replacement to take my assignment to Italy, and then I looked on the map to see where the hell Budapest, Hungary was. It was the beginning of the most amazing and satisfying journey of my life
I flew in to Budapest on a cold and snowy January day in the year 2000. I was extremely blessed to have a new millennium, another new adventure, and a new and strange environment, all laid out in front of me. I had no idea what to expect from the city of Budapest. And I had no idea what the city of Budapest could expect from me. It was an exciting trip from the airport, filled with beautiful views: Parliament, Jewish Synagogue, Gellert Hill, the Chain Bridge, the Danube, Fisherman’s Bastion, Buda Hills, all passed before my eyes. My new boss, who was driving the “tourist” route, was strangely quiet, as if he knew my thoughts as I took in all these amazing things. I felt an immediate attraction to the city and wondered why I never heard anything about this place before. I later learned that Budapest is sometimes called “The Paris of Eastern Europe”. But, fortunately, Hungarian culture was more acceptable to me than French.
I arrived to my new apartment in the Budapest’s 2nd district, Nagybanyai Ut 74A., Rozsadomb area. I had a fantastic view from my back porch of the rolling hills of Buda. There was snow in the backyard and the trees were bare. The apartment was of good size, and presented me with all the necessities. The next day at work, with massive jetlag accompanying me, I met my new American and Hungarian colleagues at MOD #3 in the Academia area of Buda. They were professional and kept me at ease during my 1st weeks there. The job was relatively unstressful, mostly office work and program management. Our U.S. team worked banker’s hours (the Hungarians worked even less)- a blessing for someone like me who enjoys the nightlife! The 1st two weeks I concentrated on settling in and familiarizing myself with this exciting new environment. I started checking out the Budapest club scene on the weekends and occasionally went out to dinner with my new colleagues. My favorite of these clubs was Beckett’s on Bajcsy Zsilinszky Ut. It was an “international” Irish Pub where British, Irish, Canadians, Americans and lots of Hungarian women hung out and drank huge quantities of Kilkenny’s and Guinness. The place offered live music every Friday and Saturday night and it was always crowded to the walls. I made friends with some British (blokes?), so I at least had a place to go and someone to drink beer with on the weekends. I spared no time in choosing Beckett’s as the bar I would give most of my hard-earned money to in exchange for some entertainment.
As I had some duties that involved the American Embassy, I was also introduced to a sports and entertainment complex which was run by embassy employees. Named “The American Club”, (what else would it be named?) located on Tunder Ut on the Buda hillside, it had a breathtaking view of the valley and the Pest side of Budapest. There was also a swimming pool and I made it a point to go there a few nights a week. It was there that I met Karin, an American citizen who had lived in Budapest for 5 years. She was a very nice and cordial lady. We then began talking about all the great things to do in Budapest. And by fate, one of the things she mentioned was a peculiar running/ drinking group called the Hash House Harriers. This sparked my interest greatly. “A running group that loves to party? Count me in!!”.
Karin gave me the time and location of where the next “running” event would happen, and I believed that I took the directions well. So on one pleasant Sunday morning in February, I ventured out of my house to find this strange group. As I was new to the area and hung over from the night before, I got very lost and after some backtracking, I had a sense that I was very close and in the right place. The time the event was to start was 11 am and it was now 11 am with no sign of any one resembling what I imagined a Hash House Harrier to look like. “ Maybe they already started the run?” I thought. That was not a correct assumption at all. I was just about to give up, turn back home, read a book or do some other boring thing that boring people do on Sundays. Just then I saw Karin standing in this parking lot in Normafa, where the run was to take place. “Good, the only person I know is here”, I thought. I parked the car and met the rest of the group- the “early comers”. It was later on that I found out that Hash House Harriers keep different times than most people- 11am means 11:30am, 12 means 12:30 and so on. There exists some kind of beer/ hangover/ running shoes/ (baking flour?) time continuum matrix that creates a 30 minute delay to the scheduled beginning of all running events. The formula is too complicated for words. That day’s run was about 8 kilometers winding through the woods and hills. On the journey, these British guys were talking about “blobs” (baking flour laid to mark the running trail) and I can remember thinking “What the hell is a blob?” I followed the crowd through the woods, carrying this flower because I was a “virgin” runner, and not knowing exactly why I was involving myself in this escapade. We came to the end, which was the beginning, and we formed a “circle” where we sang songs, drank beer, identified people who violated trail traditions, etc. It was like a fraternity for the middle aged. I loved it. I was hooked. Especially since I never saw this type of fun loving behavior before, except, of course, by children and young teens.
After the “circle”, we went in to Hotel Normafa where we had a tasty lunch. I then began talking to many new and very different people. Colin, the head manager of the Budapest Harriers, was funny and I could tell right away that he was one of the great giving people in this world. One other was Sue, who laughed at my military mannerisms when I said, “Excuse me, I have to get back to my station.” (I had to return to my seat). By then I had a few in me and was feeling like one of the crowd. I also met a very nice person named Lynne- a very lovely lady from the U.S. I had briefly spoken with her and we exchanged contact information. I got together with her later that week and we eventually became close friends. It was very nice to have a non military American to have as a friend there. She exposed me to lots of culture in Budapest and she was fun to be with as we both had a few things in common. We developed a very nice relationship during that short time and I learned a lot from her. The Hash House Harriers group also presented me with many opportunities to meet people from all over the world.
In March, the trees were still bare, but the weather was warming up. We had a St Patrick’s day run which happened to coincide with my birthday and consequently, I became very inebriated. It was the first time I ever ran 5 miles while along the way, stopping and drinking beer and whiskey. And I wondered how the rest of the group was able to do that without getting plastered. It was there that I met Birgitta, a really nice woman who worked at the Swedish embassy. I really liked her from that moment. She was smart and serious, but smiled often, and made everyone in her presence feel at ease. That day was a long one and my good friend Lynne made sure I got home and safe in one piece. I was extremely grateful for that.
April came and the trees started sprouting buds. There were lots of nice sunny days. Some of us went to a wine tasting function hosted by the local wine society. The downtown area was becoming more and more busy and I would occasionally walk there just to take it all in. There was also a Lion’s Club function at the Varkert Casino on the Buda side of the Danube river. Those early spring days were cool and tranquil, especially in the Buda hills. People were getting out of their houses and the air was fresh and clean. I also spent a weekend in Bratislava, Czech Republic, where there were three days of Hash House Harrier” activities. We had a beautiful run through the greenest forest that I have ever seen. It was there where I got to know Birgitta a little more as I rode with her in her brand new car and we had time to talk during the long ride.
In May, the many roadside trees were starting to fill out slowly with small green leaves and the Budapest landscape was coming alive. By late May, the weather was very hot. One beautiful evening, I attended a jazz concert at Kepiro’s restaurant in Budapest’s 5th district. The singer’s name was Carol Cass and she was magnificent. It was there that I was introduced to Tania- also a Hasher. That night was her birthday. She was a very mysterious and unique person. I can remember her ordering a full course dinner at 11 pm, and it seemed a very long time until she was finished. She was the slowest eater I had ever met. I later realized that she was a person who took life slow and savored each moment. Life was very exciting to her and she loved it dearly.
Another character who was part of the Budapest expatriate scene was Clive, a salesperson from England, who later became one of my closest buddies. According to Tania, we were brothers, one American and one British, separated somehow by strange mystic phenomena. Clive and I would carry on for hours drinking beer and joking about each other’s culture, history and bad habits. But we never offended each other in any way. We both knew deep down that we were just enjoying our differences and having a good time. There are not many people who can say the things we’ve said to each other and not get into a fistfight. Somehow, Clive and I both knew that so many issues in this world don’t really matter, but so many people take them very seriously. We both knew what was important in life and we joked of the unimportant things in such a serious manner that unknowing onlookers would think we were in an argument on the verge of nuclear warfare. I confided many things in Clive, and I felt we really knew each other well.
I had other friends in the city that I spent many hours with. Most of them had some connection to the Hash House Harriers. Many of the activities of course, revolved around the growing summer club scene in Budapest. Early June was very hot and it seemed that summer was in full swing with no sign of rain in the forecast. By the end of June, the crops and vineyards were failing from lack of water and all the farmers were praying for rain. I should have cared more about that, but didn’t, as I was thoroughly enjoying the party.
Strangely enough, July was a bit cooler and wetter- the farmers got what they wished. But for some of them, it was too late to save their crops. All of Budapest was fully green and we had a glorious time, especially during the peak tourist season. The Hash House Harriers had a Sunday run on the 2nd. Tom, a veteran Canadian Harrier, was a wonderful host. Afterward, we went to the Marine House in the Var district of Budapest, to see fireworks that celebrated American Independence. It was strange to see in Hungary but the fireworks were spectacular just the same. Colin, Karin, Lynne, Tania, Clive, Birgitta, Tom, and many others I knew were there. The next evening, Monday, was a big bash at the U.S. Ambassador’s residence with approximately 500 people in attendance. There were jazz bands, orchestral bands, and pop bands who played throughout the afternoon. It was very hot and humid and being in the military, it was required that I be dressed in full uniform to include the jacket. That was extremely uncomfortable. Lynne, Tania, and Ed, who I also knew from the Hash, also attended. It was an indescribable event with 1st class caterers and live bands. Later that night there was a tremendous thunderstorm, which forced the celebration to end prematurely. While it was raining, the band appropriately played “Singing in the Rain”. It was such a bizarre experience seeing the thunder, lightning, wind, rain, amplifiers, guitars, drums and very drunken people dancing to the music. We all got soaked, and then the party was ended due to the weather. So we all gravitated to the streets, where there were a dozen taxis waiting to take our soaked and tired bodies home. That night was amazing.
July marched on and our gang never grew tired of visiting the local drinking establishments on the weekends. Some that were notable were Beckett’s, (of course) Old Man’s Pub, Portside, Fat Mo’s, Irish Cat, and a slew of others I can’t quite remember. There was also the Havana Café near Vorosmarty ter and Vaci Ut. A guitarist and bongo player would be there most nights. They played Latino music from early evenings till about 11pm. Sometimes on the weekends, our gang would go to dinner at Havana club in the warm, early evening breeze, then head off to the clubs after the music was over. That month we also had a Hash run at an airport where Paul, one of the Hashers, owned a small aircraft. That day, he gave plane rides to the participants, taking off and landing, picking others up, taking off and landing again. While some went flying, the rest of us, led by Andy, the most challenging trail leader there was, went on a very long and difficult run around the hillside. We then had delicious goulash soup cooked over an open fire. And of course, there was beer there, too. Eating authentic Hungarian goulash soup along with a cold glass of beer is one of the most pleasant experiences there is.
In early August, a few of us decided to “escape” from Budapest and go on a great adventure to Lake Balaton, at a lakeside city called Siofok- a big tourist’s haven in the summer. Tania’s cousins from Ukraine were visiting and we all took a train early on a Saturday morning. We all spent the day on the beach along with Clive’s famous floating mattress that he purchased there. Unfortunately, that evening we had to ditch the mattress, as we looked very silly walking around at 9pm toting a large water toy! Our total lack of decision-making skills (there were 6 of us and no leader- an organizational nightmare) resulted in us sleeping in a park next to the lake as we missed the last train back on Saturday night by only ten minutes. It was then that I wished we still had the mattress, as it was much more comfortable than the bare ground. But we all had a wonderful time, I think. We then caught the first train to Budapest the next morning. There was a Hash that day but I slept right through it. Apparently I missed out on some Hungarian fish soup that Rabies, the Harriers deputy, painstakingly prepared. I am sorry I missed that. The Lake Balaton trip was a very weird experience, but fun none the less. By the 3rd week in August, the smells of autumn were light in the air, and the some tourists were beginning to leave the city. But we had one more summer weekend ahead, thanks to Colin and his “mismanagement committee”.
August 18th, 2001, was the beginning of the most superb Hash weekend imaginable. Colin and his committee organized a blowout where Hashers from around the world would be invited to come to Budapest for it’s 1,000 years of existence and also to party like they never partied before. The 1st night we had a great social and pub crawl in the downtown area. The next day, 60 (give or take) of us headed off to a campsite and hills north of Budapest where we ran, drank beer, got lost, ran some more, ate, danced, and had an overall perfect time. That Sunday morning we took a boat back to Budapest where we later had fun drinking, dancing, playing, eating and watching the best fireworks I have ever seen. Colin and his crew put together a terrific weekend, everyone enjoyed it and it was a great success, to include the nice weather that we had.
September was nice, sunny and comfortable. From my window at work I could see the leaves beginning to turn brown. The change in foliage sadly told me that my time in Budapest was soon going to end. I went out to a few clubs that month and also met some new people. There was one club that I found had American 60’s and 70’s rock music playing until dawn, and I occasionally stayed there until that time. There was also a dance floor in the basement. It was very hot inside, like many small Budapest clubs are, where the cigarette smoke is unbearably thick. Those pub basements were huge fire hazards, especially with no real ventilation. But it was magnificent just the same, except for the nasty smell of the clothes the next morning, whether they were still on me or haphazardly thrown in the corner of the apartment. I also spent much of that month doing last minute antique clock shopping. It was something I had promised myself to do as early as 8 months before, but never got around to it, as I was too busy having the time of my life.
October came with the leaves falling and me getting used to the fact that the wonderful journey would soon be over. But I had one more adventure on the way- a weekend trip to a major Hash event in Venice, Italy.
Three of us Budapest Hashers, Colin, Birgitta, and myself flew in to Venice on a chilly Thursday night. As I had previously spent four years in Italy, I still had friends who were living there. That night we stayed at the home of one of my old buddies. We drank beer, went over old times and new, and then went to bed. The next day we checked into the “Hash Hotel”, and took a ride up around the Dolomite Mountains to enjoy the scenery. The day was a bit overcast and I must have driven the winding mountain road a little too aggressively (or maybe it was the night before) as Colin had a slight digestive accident in the back seat. The incident did not ruin Birgitta’s appetite and barely affected mine, so we stopped at a hillside restaurant and allowed Colin to rest in the car while we ate. During a hotel party later that night, Colin picked Sue up at the airport, and they came back to join in the fun. The remainder of that weekend was full of adventure. We had some coffee at a local café and I can remember Sue being so excited about being there. We ran the canals in the Venetian islands, ate world class Italian food, and got totally drenched during two rainstorms. The following Monday, luckily for me, was Columbus Day, an American holiday, so I did not work. I spent the entire day relaxing and washing my filthy, muddy clothes, which had accumulated from the weekend. I then spent my last two weeks purchasing antiques and souvenirs, mailing items back to the states, and doing all those things that are required during a move. My final weekend the gang (Clive?) organized a going away party and most of us had a great time. The following week, sadly, it was time to leave.
I made it a point to enjoy every moment during my stay in Budapest. The people I worked with were great and the people I met from different cultures taught me many things about life that I had not known before. They came from the entire spectrum of social backgrounds and cultures, and we got along like brothers and sisters. And, like brothers and sisters, we had a few difficult moments, and I may have caused a few of them (not an apology). Some people are still there and some may have moved on to other locations as I did. I will undoubtedly lose track of many of them, as it happens in the fast paced world we live in. And I hope their time in Budapest will remain in their hearts as it does in mine. I will always remember the year 2000 as a time when all the right people were in the same place at the right time, enjoying life to the fullest. I really did not realize the huge and important time I had until it was over. That happens to people often. When we are in it, it is hard for us to see the beauty until we out of it. There was always a strong sense of camaraderie in our wild but classy gang- a mix of people that could rarely be duplicated.
I will be extremely fortunate in the future to have such a wonderful experience as I had in Hungary. But I know it is possible. And after thinking a bit, it wasn’t really the city of Budapest, it was the great people that I met there who made it what it was.
Some other people who I was not able to squeeze into this account who were shared the good times there were Major Mike (my favorite monkey-boss), Dave (Unplugged), Mona, Kristina, Oksana, Hannah, Martha Jane, Eva (Green Goblin), Greg, Yvonne, Carol, Toni, Olga and Jim Pettit (my other great boss). And to all the others who touched my life, who I haven’t listed due to various reasons (aging, fear of lawsuits and death threats, drunken forgetfulness, etc..) please forgive me. And I thank all of you for the great times we shared.
To the Budapest Hashers, On On!
Jim Mc Connon
San Antonio, Texas
May 1st, 2001
