Articles by Travel Dispatches

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Olivia Marie Valencia (’11)

Sunday, the final 24 hours of our nearly month-long trip, served as the last ditch effort day for all the Budapest activities that we had talked about but still hadn't gotten around to. The morning started with the usual rummage for clean-enough clothes and a trip to the Hotel Medosz breakfast buffet. Groups then splintered off and ventured here and there in the hot and humid weather: some hunted for last minute souvenirs, some relished gelato molded in the shape of roses, and some took one last sight-seeing lap around the city.

After an afternoon of hitting the pavement, we traded tank tops and gym shorts for dresses and slacks and attended our farewell dinner. We were hosted in a local art gallery and treated to live Hungarian-Spanish flamenco music and tasty appetizers and entrées (buttered dough balls and ginger ale, anyone?). As is tradition, Ben and Aubri then presented us with our personalized certificates which ranged from the “first-world daddy” award (Paul) to the “most unlikely to like rap music but actually does” award (myself, as many of my fellow Flinns were surprised to learn).

Those who avoided a crème brûlée coma (or those who succumbed and woke up) wrapped up the night a “Fleepover” (a sleepover Flinn-style, meaning polishing off the remaining cheese-flavored Lays chips and Nutella in our pajamas). Conversations revolved around a month’s worth of YouTube jokes (“put the team on your back!”) and the incredibly fast pace of the trip. We mapped out the various post-Hungaromania travel plans (train trips to Prague and flights to London and Benin) and began our bittersweet goodbyes with those not leaving for Phoenix with the group. One by one, we reluctantly trudged back to our rooms for a final Battle of the Bulge with our overstuffed duffel bags. Although our hotel departure was only two or three hours away, we set our alarms and took a short nap before loading the bus for the last time.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Paul Thomson (’11)

You know, it's one of those things where you hear everyone say, "The time flies by!" and, "It'll be over before you know it!" and you never really believe them until you wake up one morning to sunshine streaming through your window and the sound of a car alarm just outside and you realize, "Hey! It's my blog day!" and then, "But I'm at the end of the list!" and then, "Oh my gosh, we only have three days left." But, time stops for no one on the Central European Seminar, and so it was with this stunning realization that I greeted the day. Good morning!

I am pleased to say that we are (finally!) back in Budapest at the Medosz Hotel. This place, with its high pressure showers (except on floor three...sorry, floor three) and its complimentary towels/soap/shampoos/biscuits/fluffed pillows and its continental breakfast to end all continental breakfasts, has become a sort of home away from home on this trip. It's foreign, for sure, but a familiar kind of foreign and I couldn't be happier about spending our last days here.

Today was a "back to business" day after the reprieve of yesterday's transition, and when I checked my itinerary at breakfast like the resourceful boy I am, I was somewhat distressed to read that we had not one, but two lectures on MY blog day. Welcome back to Budapest! But, I am overjoyed to say that my pessimism was proved a thousand times wrong throughout the course of the day. The lectures were two of the most fascinating--if totally dissimilar--lectures we have had thus far. The first was given by Gabor Bojar, creator of a booming computer software company called Graphisoft. Not only was homeboy successful like wow, but he also knew how to give a quick, concise, and engaging lecture. The business majors ate his entrepreneurial advice up, and the rest of us were drawn into his "success is a competition" motto, too.

We then met up with Geza Kallay for a crash course in Hungarian literature, and--I have to tell you--this was one of my favorite lectures so far. Actually, it's one of the only ones I haven't slept through. No, I'm totally kidding. Kallay was not just knowledgeable, but passionate. He was the kind of speaker that really gets to know his audience and--in so doing--makes them want to listen. The fact that he joined us for dinner and led a game of blind-telephone-short story was only a testament to just how much he really cared about us as a class.

Now, I'm going to be real with you: I am not always the easiest to please. I like my lectures fast but full, my meals nutritious but delicious, and my days to be stimulating but relaxed. Well, I guess today was my lucky day, because I genuinely enjoyed everything we did. Now, I don't really know what tomorrow holds, but I know it's going to be amazing. After all, you're only in Hungary once: YOHO!

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Katherine Richard (’11)

June 13th began with a truly atrocious breakfast. Who would have thought that eggplant paste, white bread, and cold slabs of butter would not have been a mouth-watering hit?

The day improved - I promise.

Bogdan Radu (arguably the most unanimously adored speaker of this trip) began the day with a lecture about Religion and Democracy in Central Europe, moving from a discussion of transitional democratic states, to one concerning the effects of religion on political participation. Following him, Cosmina Paul presented topics of the Romanian Holocaust, the Romanian dissidence under communism, and the Romanian Roma minority.

Where Bogdan's lecture was a fascinating investigation of a region that we still know so little about, Cosmina spoke about sensitive issues that have been greatly overlooked in our time here. She spoke of the ways in which Romania has avoided blame for their massacre of Jewish individuals, failing to admit to their true involvement independent of the Nazi Party's well-known practices. She spoke of the ways in which the Romanian people failed to revolt against communist governments unless under the wing of another people's instigation. She spoke of the forced relocation of hundreds of Roma people to a town built on top of a garbage dump just eighteen months ago.

In the afternoon, we followed these lectures with a discussion about minority issues with local Romanian students. This two hour conversation/debate/misunderstanding was, in many ways, a sobering experience, demonstrating potential for vastly distinct world views. Many of us were made uncomfortable and made others equally so. But being able to interact with our lecture material in such a personal way was invaluable - one of my favorite parts of this trip so far.

[These intense portions of the day were followed by some time spent drinking coffee on a terrace and eating together at the Romania farewell dinner. These were both great things, especially since no fried cheese was served.]

June 13th was not an easy day. It was a challenging day and a humbling day. What I write here does not adequately explain this day, maybe because our last full day in Romania was a sobering confrontation of injustice that remains ignored. I wish that we could have learned about these things earlier, just as I wish that we could have discussed them in more depth. But I am grateful that we were able to listen to such educated speakers, and I am thankful that I could experience this day with such an excellent group of people.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Patrick Martin (’11)

Happy Birthday Shantanu! This beautiful day was spent half in Ti^rgu Mure(s,) and half in a nearby nomad camp. Our tour of the city brought us to three beautiful cathedrals. The first was a formerly Catholic, now Calvinist cathedral in which the only decorations were dozens of crests mounted on the walls representing important Transylvanian nobility, but otherwise the walls were completely white, contrasting with the ornate cathedrals of other faiths we had seen. After the Catholics had lost that church they built another one which we visited second, which was the most decorated church we had seen. Unfortunately we couldn't walk all the way in, but we could see the ceiling covered in depictions of Biblical figures and stories. Our final church was the Orthodox church, which was the most decorated church we had seen and ever saw. The walls were covered with portaits with highly reflective halos that I can imagine being even more brilliant at noon when the Sun would shine through the stained glass Jesus on the ceiling.

The second half of the day was spent at the nomad camp, which involved a short but steep hike up a large hill to a beautiful view. Wild mint grew everywhere, providing a wonderful smell to distract from the nettles that attacked a few of us. Shortly after returning from our hike we were provided with mountain trout for dinner followed by Shantanu's birthday cakes! Our time at the nomad camp finished around a campfire that could not pop microwave popcorn at all and the largest cultural shock of the trip: there are no marshmallows in Romania.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Donovan Lockwood (‘11

Even on our "relaxed" days we do more than any day I would call relaxed back home. Today, we left the Deva Saint Francis Foundation and drove to Medias, an old fortified town. We had a quick lunch, and then we had a little while to explore around. Even though it was approximately 150 percent humidity and in the high 80s. We got a little group together and went to an old fortified church with some beautiful architecture.

After this, we got back on the bus and drove for three more hours. After so long on the bus, a few people were getting a bit stir crazy, especially Julia, who was a self-proclaimed "rage ball" by the end of the ride. Driving through the countryside was great, though. On either side there were rolling green hills and farmland for as far as the eye could see. The houses were few and far between, which was awesome, coming from a place like Phoenix.

Right when we arrived in Petroni, a small village with about 160 people, we were welcomed with fantastic homemade donuts. The hospitality of these people was so refreshing. They were so happy to welcome us into their lives, even though they had never met us before. After the donuts, we met our homestay hosts, and then came back to an excellent dinner of goulash made over a fire. We had a little bit of time to relax before we were taught folk dancing by some of the villagers. I'm gonna be honest, I wasn't very good, but Stella was rocking it.

The rest of the night was really relaxed, with some sitting around, talking, playing on a swingset, and an impromptu accordion concert. I think the part that is going to stick with me the most about this village is the amazingly vibrant community in such a small town.

The trip seems to be winding down, but in a good way. Just sitting around and having a chill night is something that I have definitely learned to enjoy through this trip. It's been great getting to know everyone better, and I'm excited to see what the rest of the Hungaromania 2012 has in store for us!

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Gabrielle Lacy (’11)

June 7th marked by our first full day in Romania. We woke up in Timisoara and our first sights included Victory Square, a beautiful plaza steps away from our hotel. The square was bounded by an Orthodox Church and a theater; the sides were lined with restaurants and gelato shops. We first passed through this area on our way to West University where we spent the majority of our day.

Upon arrival, we received a practical orientation of the following eight days and a general overview of Romanian history as well as a note on some famous Romanians. After lunch, we returned to the West University and attended a lecture given by a local professor pertaining to Anti-Development theory. The idea addresses issues that arise with conventional development approaches and local reactions to large- scale efforts. Later, we were very fortunate to have the opportunity to meet some local Master's students working in development studies. It was very interesting to hear their areas of study as well as their motivations for entering the field.

We continued these conversations as they gave us a tour of Timisoara.

Many of us chose to visit a restaurant situated alongside a river with the local students, while others found their way to delicious Italian food. But for most, the night concluded with gelato. At the end of our first day in Romania, we were all so very excited to see what our coming days had in store for us.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Lee Burke (’11)

Today can be split into two themes: EU politics and Hungarian music. Peter Balázs honored us with a lecture on Hungary's accession to the EU and its new place in European politics, and also lent insight into Hungary's current internal political problems. As a former foreign minister, among a long list of essential national and international offices he has held, Professor Balázs is the most informed, concise, and eloquent presenter we have had the pleasure of meeting. (He also happens to be Kata's father.)

Then we took part in a fun and informative workshop on EU politics--we formed four groups and respectively passed a constitutional amendment in Ireland, settled EU discomfort with the EuroCup's location in the Ukraine, investigated solutions to the linguistic disenfranchisement of EU citizens, and discussed whether the US Secretary of State should include Roma issues on the agenda of a meeting with the EU. We all seemed to have fun debating, and I for one am surprised how much I learned in such a short time. Thanks go to János Bóka from the EU info point for organizing the workshop.

After a “Lunch On Your Own”, we reconvened at the Ligéti building of the Liszt Music Academy for a lecture and presentation from Gyula Fekete, an internationally recognized composer. After a brief introduction to Liszt, Kodály, and other Hungarian composers, Professor Fekete introduced us to a couple outstanding musicians who play traditional instruments: the Hurdy-Gurdy and the Zither. They were both outstanding players, and hearing the sounds of folk music really reformed my conception of the Hungarian past.

The students' unusual sounds contrasted sharply with my favorite part of the trip: seeing Anna Karenina in Ballet at the Hungarian State Opera House. The music was compiled from the varied and diverse works of Tchaikovsky, from his Symphony No. 4 to the Souvenir de Florence, and performed by an excellent orchestra. But the dancers! I've never watched a ballet and I have to say, I'm definitely a convert.

That seems to be a common feeling on this trip: never-ending discovery and falling in love with our beautiful, huge, planet.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Dylon Gookin (‘11)

Something you learn about traveling with a flock of Flinns: there are two sides to every coin. We often agree on a lot, but it's the same issues one would think we could all agree on we tend to find ourselves most divided over.

For most of us, every moment, every experience, and every memory is to be dissected, discussed, and debated for analysis, followed by reference and cross-analysis, and of course, further discussed in regards to whatever subliminal controversy must surely lay beneath. Needless to say, we seem to deeply discuss everythin on a daily basis. Not a single day has gone by without my own mind being stretched beyond whatever bounds I had only the day before deemed comfortable. Yet, however we call the spinning coin of reality from our perception of every day, the experience that tossed it still does what it's meant to do - change us.

We opened the brisk morning in Pecs with a late breakfast followed by a lecture in the Porcelain Museum. We were led up to a generally inaccessible lecture hall (an occurance that is now becoming familiar to us) by Professor Frank Zsigó to discuss minority issues with a primary focus on the Roma community.

The vast room echoed with whatever sentiments we had to share, often solemnly turning to the disadvantages of minorities such as race, gender, sexuality and the like - and there was little argument over this. Yet Frank, always with a purpose, was keen to point out even our own most subtle stereotypes; facilitating criticism of our own thinking while keeping the discussion focused primarily on the Roma - their culture, trials, and small successes. Frank ended up joining us on our short drive to Alsószentmárton, a local Roma village past scholars have annually visited for the past twelve years.

At this point in our three week expedition, bus travels have begun to blend together, but even before we left our seats we could see a half dozen eager children sitting along the road, eyes wide-eyed and watching us through the windows as we pulled alongside their mess hall.

We got off the bus and were quickly ushered in where we promptly feasted on some sort of plain pasta, freshly woodfire-cooked bread, and plenty of tender boned chicken in broth. Delicious hardly describes the combination of all three in a single bowl. We spoke to Laci (read Lot-see) between bites who described his leading role in the village, his past experiences, and his numerous travels around the world. Even  more curious though, were the dozen or so children with their fingers intertwined in the wrought iron window grate behind our new aqcuaintance, waiting and whispering in giggles, clearly eager to play.

Not fifteen minutes later, balloons, beach and soccer balls, chalk and hundreds of stickers were being tossed around as we were casually led through dilapidated buildings strewn with blanketed windows and weather-torn bricks. We juggled our attention between the natural vibrance of the children and an otherwise sobering tour of poverty, but one couldn't ignore the overgrown flora the beach balls weaved through, or the battered buildings the occasional stray soccer ball would meet. Laci brought us to their local church which paled in comparison to most we had seen over the past days, yet stood majestic in its own right. It still held a certain importance for the Catholic based village, which held special sermons for the religious holidays, though they remarked on the bitter winters they trudged through each year to attend.

We met again at the main hall where we first ate. The number of children had at least tripled, though this wasn't a problem once we had a game of soccer going, not to mention the other small games of tic-tac-toe, chalk drawings or the like being passed around.

I took a break from the games at one point to speak directly with Laci, thanking him for the food - a meal he revealed isn't shared too often. He commented with a smile that they only eat like so for special occasions: Christmas and Easter for example, and apparently whenever we come to visit.

If you get a moment to speak with all twenty of us in the future about how we percieved that day, you'll likely be greeted with twenty different answers. There were debates of interaction in comparison to voyeurism, confusion with our purpose in visiting them, and even some stated qualms of awkwardness and discomfort due to the language barrier. For every claim however, someone was sure to argue the opposite.

We can't know how our visits will impact the Roma of Alsószentmárton. Beyond the coy smiles and mutterings of Hungarian from the children, all we could take from our day were our own freshly born perceptions, however they formed. In the case of the spinning coin, every Flinn called the day's toss a different way, but only time and effort will tell how the coin will actually land. All we can know for certain is that our visit affected not only the Roma of Alsószentmárton, but ourselves as well.

For whatever impact it had, the hours we spent with the Roma slipped by in mere moments. Too quickly, it seemed, we said our scattered goodbyes and left.

We looked back as we waved goodbye and slowly settled in for the bus ride back to Pecs.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Eric Chang ('11)

Our second day staying at the Snetburger Music Talent Center began ambitiously. Cary, Amy, and I woke up at 4:30 to hike up a hill and watch the sunrise. Upon arriving at our vantage point and peering over the endless sweeping meadows in the distance, we grew skeptical about whether the sunrise would even be visible behind the thick cloud cover. After an hour of conversation, the sun still hadn't peered through the clouds and we sadly trekked back to the cabins in the light drizzle.

The inclement weather meant our plans to relax at a Lake Balaton beach needed revision. Initial thoughts were to visit the town, but before then we headed to the Balaton Limnological Research Institute for a lecture by Matyas Presing concerning the research being conducted at Lake Balaton, the largest lake in Central Europe. We learned about how an inrunning filtration process fixed the lake's prior bacterial and water quality issues, ultimately replacing dangerous cyanobacteria with green algae. Due to the institute's research, the lake water is now clean enough to drink and is a major recreational site during the summer.

Hearing this, we were pleasantly surprised that it was sunny when we were leaving the institute. We quickly reverted back to our original plans and spent the next couple hours swimming in the gorgeous lake, building sand castles, and capturing beach towel-superhero photos.

Lunch took place at a homey restaurant with a wood fire oven and cats roaming the dining room. After enjoying yet another delicious traditional three course hungarian meal, we headed to the shore again to catch a ferry across the lake. We were finally truly saying goodbye to the Balaton region and approaching our next destination.

En route to our hostel in Obanya, we stopped by a local man's home to pick cherries and tour his restored three-story water mill. We all had a blast grabbing as many cherries as we could find, climbing all over this man's tree to fill a bucketful of delicious fruit. Of course, this didn't happen without us all munching on these cherries while we picked, and the air soon become thick with flying pits.

Later that evening, we had finally arrived at the hostel in Obanya, a rural village in southern Hungary. After a soothing meal of goulash cooked over a campfire, we decided to begin our preparations for our performance this upcoming Monday at the Ghandi School, a Romani high school in Pecs, Hungary. We settled on an a cappella performance of "We Are Young" by Fun, led by the former drum majors in our class-- Cary and Nick.

Finally, despite having to coordinate eleven boys sharing one bathroom, we were all happy to get some rest after a hectic and long, yet rewarding day of experiencing rural lifestyle in southern Hungary.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Cary Kelly (’11)

This day began with the end of one of my favorite trip experiences thus far: the home stay. However, before I ruminate about my unique home stay experience, I will give a cursory overview of my day's activities.

• Woke up at home stay's house (More details to follow). Returned to hotel by mid-morning. Kicked a soccer ball around outside with Aman, Jacquelyn, and Dylon while waiting for others to return.
• Lecture from young researchers at Central European University about the following: the origins and operations of the European Union, the Western Balkans and their possible future roles in EU enlargement, and the Eastern Partnership (I was impressed with the magnitude and scope of many of the issues to which the researchers had committed themselves to. The presentations were informative and interesting; one speaker even successfully integrated a menagerie of internet memes into his slides).
• Independent lunch with Patrick, Aman, Cody, Nick and Eric, jolly good fun. Two hour scenic country bus ride to Felsoors, which was substantiated by a group discussion of the previous day's museum trips. Lots of provocative discussion about the House of Terror (Loyalty House).
• Arrived at Snetberger Institute in the evening. A casual dinner and group bonding activities such as volleyball and catchphrase characterized the rest of the night. Pleasant group night hike to a meadow covered ridge. Patrick was lucky enough to get the first tick bite. Bed before midnight – a miracle!

The 30th was a fairly relaxed day compared to previous days of Budapest bustle. However, I want to expand on my homestay experience.

I had the pleasure of staying with Bence Vargas, a 22 year old business student. Bence was reserved, but friendly and eager to connect. He endured my incessant awkward attempts at Hungarian, and even let me play Hungary 20 questions whenever we had a moment to ourselves. Tuesday evening, we basically followed the informal group itinerary: dinner at a casual Hungarian Restaurant called Losche's and bonding time at a club called Morrison's 2. In between Bence and I took a brief hour jaunt back to his house to drop off valuables. Those group activities were truly enjoyable, giving me a chance to interact with other hosts and to get a taste of the Hungarian youngster social life. However, the value of the home stay really proved itself when we left the club and returned to his house. Walking in the front door around midnight, we were both surprised to learn that his mom had prepared a large meal for us, and was simply waiting for our arrival. Before I knew it, I was sitting in a disheveled parlor with a mix of grandiose Hungarian paintings, heirloom antiques, and everyday living items--clothing, miscellaneous appliances, and the occasional lonely shoe. I was positioned at a small, dark wooden table with Bence, his mother, his aunt, and his aunt's sassy German friend. I can't pinpoint what exactly enchanted me about this dinner, but I was captivated. Between the curious, disjointed questions of his mother, the secret food deliveries of the aunt who spoke little English (I think her mission was to fill every corner of the table with food and drink), and the sarcastic, teasing jokes of the German friend, I found myself humbled and immensely grateful for being at that place at that time. There was Hungarian, German and English flying across the table (all of which my host spoke fluently), and once I learned the German friend spoke Spanish, we added that to the fray. A few hours, drinks, and plates of food later crystallized that dinner in my memory for some time to come.

The next morning was a simple breakfast looking out over the beautiful Buda hills, but its simplicity seemed to be the perfect complement to the previous night's adventures. The 30th itself was a day well spent, and I look forward to those to come.

Each summer an entire class of Flinn Scholars engages in a group study-travel seminar. This year’s seminar, held in Hungary and western Romania, runs from late in May to mid-June. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Jasmine Anglen (’11)

As we set out on the second full day of our trip, excitement was sky-high, but energy levels had waned. Luckily, the IIE trip-planners must have foreseen this and arranged for us to bus over to the adorable Hollók village. Away from the bustle of a city center like Oktogon in Budapest, we were able to walk up hills, into the forest and out to cow pastures while running into friendly dogs and people.

The restaurant we stopped in for lunch had been run by the same adorable, little old lady for decades and included walls decked out in black and white photographs of her childhood. Paul and Katherine kindly volunteered to dress up in traditional Hungarian village garb and proceeded to re-enact a Hungarian couple falling in love and getting married, flirting and all. The adorable restaurant owner orchestrated the whole love story and concluded by singing for us!

The rest of the day consisted of a trip to a castle on a hill and a re-enactment of some old battle (which was joined by one of our very own, the fearless Dylon Gookin). I couldn’t help but think while sitting on the grassy hillside watching the canons and sword fights, looking out over the forest and castle, how perfectly the day had been planned. After the plane flights and walking tours and general high-energy awesomeness of the trip so far, it was nice to just get to sit on a green hill, amble around a rural village, and watch some cows, while still soaking up another facet of Hungarian culture.

Of course, no day with the Flinns would be complete without some profound life lesson arising in one form or another. So listen closely. When you see a very much handmade and seemingly insignificant fence made of twine surrounding a cow pasture, you can still safely assume that it is indeed an electric fence. But don’t worry, all of your Flinn pals will insist on touching it and getting shocked to make sure. Lesson learned: don’t underestimate the punch (or pinch) something seemingly insignificant can pack, and listen when the first Flinn says “Ah! It’s electric!”(and start doing the electric slide).

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

John Ernzen ('10)

Veni, Vidi, Vici.

Today began just like any other day on the Central European Seminar: with an early alarm that came far too soon and some sliced bread, meat, and cheese for breakfast at our beloved Radio Inn. However, even as we gathered downstairs talking about the various shenanigans that went on last night, hurriedly finishing our paper evaluation packets, and remembering what souvenirs or gifts we had left to buy, inside we were all thinking the same thing–that this was our final day together. With that in mind, while no one would say it out loud, we agreed to make it count.

And so we set off, embarking on our final “Find your own way!”--not to our rooms (thank you, Alan, for that) but to the IIE (Institute of International Education) office for our final trip evaluation. It felt fitting, realizing that we had gathered here on Day 1 of the seminar to go over our expectations and hopes for the trip, that we would now reconvene to share our reflections on what we had learned and gained from the entire experience. And while regrettably I don’t have the room or the memory to include some of the insights shared, it was absolutely surreal listening to my fliblings reveal how much we’ve all grown in the past three and a half weeks.

Following this, we had a brief recommendation section where we went over what worked and what could possibly be improved or revised for the coming years, led by the one and only Kata, of course. Even with all the different opinions and suggestions though, each one of us could agree that the week in Serbia was phenomenal and provided some excellent contrast and insight with our Hungarian adventures.

As morning turned to afternoon and our stomachs started grumbling, we wrapped up our evaluation session, said goodbye to most of the IIE staff, and went our separate ways to savor the final hours of free time.

Some of us struck out to grab a final lunch at the beloved hummus bar; others headed back to the Radio Inn to finish packing or catch up on some much needed sleep for tonight; still others (myself included) journeyed to the Great Market Hall and Váci utca to finish finding gifts for chaperones, coordinators, and loved ones. But no matter how we each chose to spend the afternoon, eventually seven o’ clock rolled around and with that came a massive migration to the nearby Kogart House for our seminar’s closing reception.

Enormous and situated right along Andrássy utca, even as we approached the Kogart House looked promising as the setting of our itinerary’s final activity. And once inside the reception hall, surrounded by IIE staff and past presenters and lecturers alike, we all realized that Kata and Michael had ensured our seminar would go out with a bang.

Before dinner, this bang (quite literally) sounded with a surprise concert of classically-trained guitarist Robert Sinha, along with fellow guitarist Róbert Vidák and the stunning Szilvia Péter Szabó on vocals. Demonstrating a blend of Spanish flamenco and Hungarian folk music, with a few traditional gypsy pieces as well, the concert was beautiful, and it was an honor to experience the music in such an intimate setting.

Even more than the numbers themselves though, what I loved most was hearing Robert’s explanation of how all three musicians came from separate styles and backgrounds so that together they could create this hybrid harmony that reached beyond their guitars to tug at our heartstrings.

Just after their final number, we were all surprised when our very own Savannah rose and explained that she was going to sing a number that she and Robert had (secretly) planned out a few days prior. Before beginning, Savannah beamingly addressed our class saying “This performance isn’t about me, because tonight isn’t about me. Tonight is about all of us, and so I need you all to sing along.”

It took me a few seconds to recognize the chords on the guitar, and then Savannah was belting out the opening verse of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” bringing home what had become our class’ adopted anthem for the past three weeks.

As cameras flashed and tears fell, our class put up a resounding chorus of “Don’t Stop” for the final time, realizing that we didn’t want to stop believing–not in this trip, but in each other and in ourselves. Each of us understood how much we’d grown and what a close family we had become in the past month, and we wanted to ensure that the end of this trip wouldn’t mean the end of that bond.

And so as the final applause died down, it was now time for Michael, Kata, and Agi (the former program coordinator from years past, and now director of IIE Europe) to take the stage and share some of their thoughts about what the trip had meant to them. What I loved most was hearing Agi, whom we had only met that night, address us saying “I feel like I know you all, because I can see in your faces the same thing that I’ve seen in all Flinns–passion.”

Following these three touching presentations, dinner was served, and I very gratefully grabbed my plate and hurried to get in line. During the meal we enjoyed (in addition to the food) last-minute discussions with some of our past presenters and IIE staff, all the while reminiscing about favorite memories and moments with each other.

After finishing dessert, it was finally time for the much anticipated Scholar awards, and with that our two amazing chaperones, Amy and Alan, took the stage to commend each of us in a very ‘personal’ way. I took home the “Ninja of Help” award and laughed uncontrollably as my classmates were honored with their own occasionally-serious, mostly-hilarious titles. Then it was finally time for our class to present our gifts and our gratitude to our chaperones, to Kata, and especially to Michael, all of whom had guided us so well on this journey.

While our presentations marked the end of the reception dinner and the end of our itinerary, our class decided that we weren’t ready for that to be our final moment together. Instead, during and shortly after dinner we came together and agreed that we would all head to Heroes’ Square–where we had ventured the first night in Budapest after our midnight arrival–for one final memory with one another.

As I walked back to the hotel with my fliblings to change from our formal attire, I realized that (since not all of our class would even be flying home tomorrow) this would indeed be a final moment for us, and so all bets were off.

After arriving there together and setting up camp at the square’s center (meanwhile asking a random stranger to take a picture of us for hopefully the last time), we voluntarily went around one by one and just opened up: Be it insecurities or reflections, memories or confessions, we each spoke about what this trip had meant to us and, even more importantly, what this class now meant to us.

As we watched a central lunar eclipse happen before our very eyes (the only one since 2007), we all knew that this memory and this moment were meant to be. We were truly a family now and, after agreeing to attend a whole lot of weddings, we promised each other that, even without future seminars, that fact would never change.

After a fresh set of tears and countless hugs, we all left Heroes’ Square for the last time and returned to the Radio Inn to finish packing and try and catch what little sleep we could before our early flight tomorrow.

So as I finish this terribly long final entry to our phenomenal journey, I feel that I must say thank you to the Flinn Foundation for allowing me to be part of such an amazing trip and providing the means through which this family could come together. Even more, though, I’d like to say thank you to all of my fliblings as well, for showing me just how blessed I am to be a member of such a family.

And so, as I close I have to apologize to Nikil for once more borrowing his talents in saying:

We came, we saw…

Boom, conquered!

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Tina Cai ('10)

Back in Budapest, today was our first free morning to explore the city that we have come to consider our own. Last night, one of our first speakers, Ferenc Zsigó, offered to have coffee with anybody interested in continuing the discussion on the Roma and minorities in Hungary. So, at 10am, about half of us sacrificed the rare chance to sleep in for the chance to learn more about issues that many of us had become passionate about.

Ferenc, who has been a part of the Flinn family for years, shared with us his knowledge on everything from human trafficking, Roma women, the prospect of a Roma nation, segregation among the Roma, identity politics, homelessness, and the status of the disabled in Hungary. As you can tell, we’re a curious bunch with diverse interests and passions that make for some of the most stimulating conversations I have ever had the good fortune to participate in.

After coffee, our group had an incredibly satisfying meal at the one and the only Hummus Bar. That falafel hummus plate is even more delicious the third time. Then, we split up to either do some shopping or rest at the Radio Inn. I picked the latter. And before I knew it, it was time for the fanciest part of our itinerary – the opera.

For most of us, this was our very first opera experience. The opera was Rossini’s renowned comedy, The Barber of Seville. Not only was the plot filled with characters in disguise plotting an intricate plot of deceit, but the opera was performed in Italian with Hungarian subtitles. So, most of us were unaware of the jokes and the subplots and even which character was who. But in the end, I think I can say that all of us acutely felt the beauty of the music, a universal language that transcends borders and unites us all.

It’s funny, because less than two years ago, I was writing an essay on the power of music to unite people, to be submitted for my application for the Flinn Scholarship. And looking back on our trip, music and art have forged pathways to deep connections both within and outside of our group.

Some of our fondest memories include listening to Bob Cohen’s fusion of Roma, Jewish, and American music and dancing to traditional Hungarian music in a field by the Danube. And following Flinn tradition, our introduction to the Roma students of Ghandi high school formed through music. All 20 of us were joined by the Ghandi students as we sang and clapped to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’. And in return, the students treated us to a beautiful Roma musical performance followed by a rendition Feliz Navidad on the guitar, to which all the Flinns sang along. Despite differences in language, nationality, ethnicity, social class, economic status, education, and lifestyle, we all clapped to the same beat, we all sang the same words, and we shared a bond that was stronger than those things that might divide us.

In my last Flinn essay, I wrote, “People can communicate through music when they fail to communicate through language.” Those words ring truer than ever.

As much as this trip has been about discovering the differences in culture and life between Americans and Central Europeans, I have found that it is the similarities that have allowed us to connect with our hosts and our friends in ways that I never could have imagined. I have found families with warmth, openness, and love that remind me of my own family. I have met youth who are passionate and curious about the world who remind me of my Flinn family. I have befriended individuals who share the same fears, insecurities, and hopes who remind me of myself.

And we are all tied together by this common thread of humanity and this common fate. Sometimes, we forget that. But tonight, after witnessing the way that music was able to touch each and every one of us, uniting us in a common passion, I remembered.

For me, the most salient issues we have discussed have been cooperation among the Central European nations and the future of minorities in Central Europe. If politicians and citizens would just remember that as people, we are connected by this common thread, then maybe governments would care more about people and less about petty political arguments. Maybe the Roma and other minorities would be viewed as equal people and not be treated as scapegoats or second-class citizens. Maybe extreme nationalism would give way to international cooperation. Maybe….

But I do know that while we were savoring our ice cream sundaes in the cool night breeze just across the street from the opera house, our Flinn class bond was strengthened by a renewed appreciation for European culture and art. Together, we opened our minds and our hearts, united by a shared experience and touched by a language we could all understand. And that, to me, is what this adventure is all about.

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Leah Edwards ('10)

After having a little bit of time to explore Belgrade, we all boarded the bus and headed out on a three hour drive, passing beautiful landscapes of grassy hills, cute village homes, and swelling rain clouds along the way. We ultimately arrived in Star Moravica, a small village of about six thousand Hungarians living in Serbia. The village was founded in 1796 in what was then a part of Hungary; it did not become a part of Serbia until borders were redone in the 20th century. After the transition, the people living in the village retained their Hungarian language and culture, and many of the villagers had Hungarian citizenship and spoke little Serbian. The people in Star Moravica were in every way Hungarian; they just happened not to be living inside of Hungary’s borders. 

Upon arriving in the village, we were welcomed by the villagers in a beautiful gazebo located next to a grassy field. We were then invited to a wedding located in the Reform Calvinist Church. Inviting our group to such a traditional and special event made me feel very welcomed, and considering that I have not been to very many weddings in the U.S., I was excited to experience one in another country.  

After the wedding we were treated to Hungarian martial arts demonstrated by some of the village youth, who made shooting bows and arrows, jousting with wooden poles, and cracking enormous whips look entirely too easy. We were then given the opportunity to try each of these activities. I tried (and failed) to crack one of the whips, and only had a little bit more success with the bows and arrows. Like I said, they made it look a lot easier than it was.

After a while I got distracted from the commotion of the martial arts by a one-and-a-half year-old girl named Viola, who had fallen in love with my tourist pamphlet and sunglasses (which were at least a few sizes too big for her). I spent a good half an hour playing with her in the grassy field with the sound of whips still cracking in the background. Viola's mother, Izabella, then offered to host me, and I immediately accepted.

My play date with Viola was briefly interrupted when we were invited to see a rehearsal performance by a traditional Hungarian dance troop. After an hour or so of watching their exhilarating performance, we rejoined the villagers to enjoy dinner and listen to the music of a traditional Hungarian band. As people finished their meals, they began getting up to dance to the music, and after a while we had all become part of a giant dancing circle throbbing back and forth as we stepped to the beat. Dance proved to be an amazing bonding experience, both for the Scholars and the villagers. 

When we were all exhausted from dancing, we met up with our homestays, and I had the opportunity to meet Izabella's husband, Robert, who turned out to be the mayor of Star Moravica and the chairman of the regional parliament. Although there was a bit of a language barrier, I was able to have a discussion with him about local politics, which is something that I am very interested in. By this time Viola had gone to bed, and I left with my homestays to attend a birthday party for one of their friends. This gave me the opportunity to speak with some of the villagers. Unlike the homestays that I had earlier on the trip, most of the people in Star Moravica had never been to America and had never had much opportunity to interact with Americans, and were very excited to have the opportunity to meet with us and practice their English. 

Everybody that I came across was very kind and welcoming and seemed truly excited to have the opportunity to host American students. Even though many struggled with English, their willingness to try to communicate with us and their kind gestures made it apparent that they were truly happy to host us, and I couldn’t have felt more welcome. I really appreciate that we had the opportunity to visit Star Moravica. It has been one of my favorite experiences from this trip, and if I ever have the chance to visit Serbia again, I hope that I will have the opportunity to revisit this town.

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Bethany Vu ('10)

A Light in Distant Dreams

we walked
we waited
we shared

Today began like most of the past few days—full of schedules, suitcases, and rainclouds turned upside down. We woke up from a turbulent but exhilarating night under the streaming sky and continued our journey from the farm to a small town called Sremski Karlovci, where we got to see some ancient architecture, modern sustainable designs, and world-class wine making. Disregarding the exhaustion I had accumulated from one too many nights of living life to the fullest, I poured all of my energy reserves into absorbing as much information as possible from our numerous speakers and guides. However, as interesting as it was to discuss all of these academic topics, I found that the most valuable experience today was our hike—in a completely natural atmosphere apart from the intellectual world.

After touring Sremski Karlovci, we took a hike up Fruska Gora Mountain. I will admit that since the quantity of my muscle mass and threshold for physical strain are equally tiny, this activity was setting itself up to be the worst experience for me thus far on this trip.  A group of four or five of us fell pretty far behind and for a while we lost the indispensible Kata, who, upon rejoining our little band remarked huffing and puffing, “Now, we stop hiking and we start surviving.” We were all ridiculously tired and the humidity was only slowing us down further.

In the midst of my mental grumblings, I realized that because our little group had given up everyone else’s break-neck pace, we were noticing more of the natural beauty around us. We were also having more quality time with each other since our breaths weren’t divided between maintaining homeostasis and holding a conversation. We played word games, threw around history and geography trivia like the nerds we’re proud to be, and just delighted in each and every moment.

we walked a grueling forest hike
we waited for the rain to clear
we shared meals on the go

and I became intensely aware of how short our time together on this trip is and how easy it is to get caught up in the program and forget to slow down and just be with each other. We are all fueled by our individual passions for different interests that will soon carry us far away from each other, far away from the Flinn family, and far away from home. I found myself saddened by the very plausible reality that we would never be able to gather everyone for such a bonding experience again.

Now thinking back on the day in my room engulfed by the sound of rain pelting the roof, I am comforted by the fact that each one of us will become something great in the future, and for this one moment we all converged in one time and one place to share this one dream. I probably won’t remember much of that hike today, but I will remember the words and smiles that we exchanged. The Class of 2010 may not remember many of the facts and figures we learned on this trip in the years to come, but we will remember the friendships we solidified.

What will remain in my heart, illuminated by the light of distant dreams, is this:

In the summer of 2011, my dearest brothers and sisters and I went to Central Europe.

And there we walked one path. One journey to grow and develop together. We waited through the stormy challenge of facing the great and terrifying unknown. We shared one pulse, one breath in every experience we shared. And in this brief moment in our lives, we lived one life together, building each other up, and weaving the bonds that would hold us together long after time and space have separated us.