We have settled into our new apartment in downtown Debrecen. The tram stops a few steps from our building and runs in a loop between the train station and the University. You can see it in the photo (the Nagy Templom – Great Church is in the background). Recently, large areas of the downtown (belvaros) area has been pedestrianized and it is quite easy to walk just about everywhere.
Our landlord and his wife came over on the first day and went over the details of our lease, took readings for the heat, electric, water, etc. and will return on February 7 for payment in cash. He left us with a bunch of keys. Although our building is right on the Piac Utca (Market Street) in the heart of downtown, it is the back of two buildings. Our section is separated from the main street by an inner courtyard, an iron gate that swings closed after 10pm, a short path beneath a stone arch, an interior garden, and then another door that is covered by an iron grill. Once you enter our building, you find yourself in a wide, light-filled stairwell with a large, old-fashioned elevator in the center (also covered with iron filigreed grills). We are one and a half floors up, on the end. To get to our apartment, you must pass through a French door, another iron grill, and then the door which enters into the kitchen. All of these doors have a separate key; some of them turn in the lock twice, others must be turned three complete times in order to disengage the lock. As you pass through the doors, you must then lock them on the other side. Oh, by the way, there is also a key for the garbage bin. You have to understand that we were jet lagged and our landlord, who was happy to discover that I understand Hungarian, began to rattle off the instructions at lightening speed. Our house in Little Compton has one key…and we have Briggs and Henry!
Later that day, we went to the University…an incredible building. A large reflecting pool leads up to the front stairs. There are beautiful statues at either side. Anyway, Erika Kiss, who is the administrative assistant for the Department of British and North American Studies (and who is indispensable) gave me my keys. One for my office, one for the door to the hallway to my office, one for the front door if I come on campus when it is closed, and a fourth key whose function I can’t recall. When I am ready to go to class, I must go downstairs to the Porta and sign out my classroom key (and return it after use). She seemed amused by our dazed expressions.
On the first day at the university, one of my new colleagues invited us to lunch. His name is Zoltany Abady-Nagy and I feel as if we have been friends for decades, rather than just for a few days. Zoltan has been a Fulbright and an invited distinguished faculty member at numerous American universities. He offered to drive us to a large Supermarket named CORA that is located on the outskirts of town. Then he walked through the store with us, helping us to find sundry items like soap, toilet paper, cream for coffee (the first person I had asked thought I meant sour cream). He showed me how to have my fruit and veggies weighed, how to order cold cuts (in decagrams), and was incredibly patient as he taught us to survive. I tried to thank him, but he got mad. Finally, I said, well at least let me invite you to New England and we can return your kind hospitality. He smiled at me and said, I don’t know if I will come back to the US, but if I don’t, you can help someone else. When he was a Fulbrighter in Oklahoma, one of his American colleagues had done the same for him and he never forgot the kindness. It was a Hungarian “paying it forward.”
After he left us, we made our way into the apartment building. By this time it was pitch dark. Our system was working pretty well: if I opened the door, Bernard would follow behind me and lock the door with his set of keys. Everything was great until we reached the French doors leading out to our stoop. We tried every key, in every possible combination…none of them worked. We had a mountain of groceries and bundles at our feet. To add insult to injury, the light in the stairwell kept going out. One of us would have to go and push the button to activate it…they only stay on for about 45 seconds, which is great if you are trying to conserve energy and save theplanet, but not so great if you are trying to find the keyhole in a shadowy hallway. Finally, after numerous efforts by both of us with both sets of keys, we gave up.
I took out the Hungarian mobile phone that Erika Kiss had provided for our use–she had already preprogrammed it with the numbers of all of the members of the department at Debrecen University. I tried to call her…but the number wouldn’t go through. then the light went off again. I later found out that if you are calling someone who has the same cellular provider, then you don’t need to use the two-digit identifier code, only the phone number, except if you are in different cities (then you add the two-digit code for both the city and for the phone service) or if you are in another country (in which case you also have to add the country code). I couldn’t call the landlord because his phone number was safely locked in the apartment. Ultimately, I threw a Hail Mary pass, except it was one last desparate plea to St. Anthony. Sure enough, this time, the key worked. We were able to unpack the groceries before we collapsed from nervous exhaustion. Sometimes, it’s the small inconsequential things that can put you over the edge.
Ironically, we have had no real trouble with any of the locks since. But of course, I haven’t started teaching yet…so we’ll see.
Thanks for tuning in and best regards,
Marcsi
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