The Goulash Soup Is Made Of...

The ingredients. Of a dish, of a country, of a heart, of a person. What makes a person tick? What defines a country and is the beautiful land symbolic of the nation, the heart of it? The longer you care to watch something the more that you shall see revealed to you. The great unveiling.

I had seen much of the heart of Hungary and its people in recent days. I had experienced school and its celebrations of the anniversary of the 1848 revolution, I had walked the streets of the city along both sides of the Danube, and past the Houses of Parliament as the country's very nucleus had been infested with people. They moved in waves emerging from all the surrounding streets, to display their support of the country, to fiercely portray which political party they were backing, to generally soak up the atmosphere of a wonderful day to be Hungarian, and absorb the golden Spring sunshine. The arrival of spring was seeming more and more inescapable and the city was increasingly alive by the minute lately.

When I was watching the morning displays of national pride and solidarity that were clearly an annual embrace of the culture here I had some strong feelings. This is a country with a united front, despite its European economic crisis and its political division. It is the proudest country I have ever known, and I see good reason for this. Yes, the country is proud. Not because it tells me so, many people are not vocally proud at all, as the folk of other countries I have been to are, it's in this nation's actions, the powerful heritage, and the symbolism and continued acknowledgement of its wildly significant history in the fabric of everyday life, but most notably represented on days like these past few.

I recall Wednesday at school. I wore smart clothes, with a Hungarian flag rosette pinned to my waistcoat. Everybody was dressed in black and white (more or less) with the national colours of a rosette or something similar adorning their clothes. I could sense the pride in having the colours everywhere, the national anthem filling the air. The re-enactment of past events. The weight of the culture here and the meaning is not only evident at times but it swallows you up. Some of the finest days at my school have been when true Hungarian life and history have been at the forefront and have remained prominent in my mind long afterwards. The reason for this celebration, the past events dating back over a century and a half now are as much a part of the country's existence as perhaps they ever were. The soul of freedom and the pulse of the nation.

I learn a little more at these times. I felt filled with illusion and energy for this country. Yes, the political edge could at times threaten to overspill and pull me into its gloom, and it certainly exists, there is no escape from that. As much as I need to acknowledge that I also need to appreciate everything magnificent and beautiful about this country and its people, and their search and right to live a happy life of opportunity and possibility. The people here are extraordinary in many ways. There is not a problem with the heart, the core here, it is as alive as any I have had the fortune to observe.