Learn and study. They are the same word in Hungarian and I want to learn as I study them.
So faithful. So driven. So afraid to hope even as they do. Students all over the city willing to sacrifice to make it to the next step. Parents who must start a process for babies that will see them all the way through to adults.
It’s a risk, this learning. There are many sacrifices and often, few rewards. There is a panel and years of knowing and learning and hoping on a spring day in the senior year. There’s a day in the middle of English Camp when a long time’s wait comes in joy or tears.
There’s resilience and thoughts of new ways and plans. There’s a continuing with life even if the smile is hard to come. There’s so many museums full of what I can only hope to try to understand for the rest of my life here.
Wars and rumors and great kings and leaders and terrible tyranny and so many ideas and music and art and beauty and a unique soul stamp that only this land can give. There’s a sweet place that learning about Hungary takes me too. It’s like the language –hard, hard, hard, but complex and mysterious in the nuances that constantly surprise. And I am learning that it’s worship too. Knowing that there’s a God behind all of the pieces and the shapes they have made and the fluid places that have yet to be.