Articles by Travel Dispatches

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.

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.

Rae Anne Martinez ('10)

Lectures, lectures, lectures, and--surprise--more lectures! 

That was the thought that ran through my head as I arose this morning for our first activity. Don’t get me wrong--lectures are an important part of our growth and awakening on this seminar, and we are blessed to have such intelligent and charismatic speakers. However, sometimes after many long, rough days of traveling, late nights and earlier mornings, with tired feet and eyes, we become lethargic. Our eyes are only pried open with respect. For me, today was one of those mornings.

After breakfast, we stumbled across the street to the Students Dorm, where Zorka, the Coordinator of the Youth Office, and a handful of representatives of Sombor’s youth organizations, greeted us again. Zorka was to be our first speaker on history of the Youth and Sport organization.

Before 2007, the Youth and Sport organization was only local to Vojvodina, but after 2007, there was a switch to developing the ministry of Youth and Sport into a national infrastructure. Today the ministry of Youth and Sport is a fully developed national program that gives grants to finance volunteer opportunities for the community. 

After the short lecture with Zorka, we had the opportunity to break into smaller groups and hear from the representatives of Sombor’s youth organizations. The majority of us centered around Diana and a few others who represented the Ravangrad programs. These programs set up several international camps to promote peace and understanding between students of former Yugoslavia republics, like Serbians, Croats, and Bosnians. 

Our dialogue quickly took a turn from us asking questions about their programs, to Diana and the others asking questions about our student involvement and volunteer programs back home, as well as the public mentality about volunteerism. It felt to me that this was no longer a typical lecture day. We were becoming the lectures. They genuinely wanted to know about how civic involvement worked in our homes, communities, and schools, so they could take this new knowledge and use it to benefit their own country. 

During Serbia’s 20-year communist rule, youth involvement and civic activism simply was not allowed. Now, as a result, the public looks upon civic activism with disdain. Community work is not formally recognized and the field of sociology is not viewed as a viable career path. I could not believe it--I was sitting across from some of the most dedicated students in Serbia. These dozen plus bright, talented, and unbelievably friendly students all feel the need to better their community and nation by becoming teachers, counselors, and sociologists, but every day they have to work against a deeply rooted, negative public sentiment. I only have the utmost respect for these students.

After a series of warm good byes to our new friends, we climbed aboard the bus, heading for Bac village. During our bus ride, our lovely chaperones, Amy and Alan, decided that instead of sleep we should partake in a much-needed “reflection session.” Our discussion group rapidly fell into analyzing our experiences with ethnic issues, discrimination, racism, and tolerance in Central Europe.

It was such a powerful and prevalent topic that our discussion continued well into our lunch at Didina Kuca, a beautifully restored traditional Serbian home that had been converted into a museum and restaurant. After finishing our hearty lunch under a covered patio amidst a blooming, bountiful garden, the owners led us through the house, explaining certain household customs and showing off elaborate traditional dress. They even gave us a hands-on demonstration in harvesting corn and cutting grass!

We walked across Bac’s sleepy streets to a Franciscan monastery, where we were welcomed by the local father. With Nada’s help translating, he proceeded to lead us throughout hallowed halls to the most amazing treasure of the monastery, the library! This monastery specializes in preserving and restoring printed books from this region. We all gazed in awe upon the aged volumes in reds, browns, and blues, still glittering with gold embellishments. Dan and I stood shocked by one of the largest dictionaries we had ever seen--reminding us of our collective nerdiness.

After an hour, we emerged from the cool stone walls of the monastery into the blazing heat and humidity of midday. Once again, we trekked across the empty streets, but this time to the remains of a Bac fortification. A local woman unlocked the gate to the refurbished main tour and we climbed a perilous spiral staircase into another cool stone room. As we stared at the old walls and the golden light through the slit windows, we wondered what used to be in this magnificent building. Nada filled our heads with Serbian history, which only added to our dream-like perceptions. As soon as the lecture concluded, we ran like small school children scrambling to take pictures and explore every crevice. 

Finally tuckered out, we boarded the bus headed for the college city of Novi Sad. We all slept soundly until we arrived in the center of Novi Sad in the American Corner, where we were greeted by our new home-stays: Serbian college students who either planned to or had already traveled to the United States. Bethany, Angela, and myself all ended up staying with Olja Jovicki. Olja had one of the biggest hearts, most generous sense of hospitality, and sharpest sense of fashion among anyone I had met so far on this trip. After a homemade dinner of baloney and ketchup pizza (which was quite delicious), we freshened up and dressed for a night out with the other home-stays and our fliblings in the city with the third-best night-life.

Today, we met students with a drive for civic duty greater than our own, geeked out over books, ran like children, and got to stay with generous people. Days like this, still active and full of wonderful people, can replenish my lethargic spirit and body--making me want to stay for hundreds more!

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.

Jonah Thomas ('10)

Hello, Arizona!

We have officially reached the halfway point of the 2011 Central European Seminar. After just 12 days of constant learning, exploring and living, we have already tackled the most pressing issues faced by Central Europe, and have traveled to two countries and are currently on the bus to the third – Sombor, Serbia.

Looking at our itinerary, we have had many cool lectures and presenters, seen incredible landscapes, and still have much more to come, but today is definitely the day everyone wishes they could blog about, because today we went to Alsoszentmaton, the Roma Village. I have been lucky enough to be given this blog day, but I am also under immense pressure to truly capture the joy, excitement, love, and real experience of Alsoszentmaton.

As I sit here looking at my fellow exhausted Flinns, I am proud to say that we all left every bit of energy we had at the Roma Village. When our bus pulled into this village of 1,300 people, 100% of whom are ethnically Roma (or gypsy), we were greeted by Lazlo, a Flinn Family friend of 11 years. The Flinn Foundation first met Lazlo several years ago, when he spoke at the Gandhi Gimnasium School, which we visited yesterday. He invited the entire Flinn class back to his village to meet his family; since then, the Flinn Central European Seminar has been “adopted” by the family and has made it a tradition to visit every year with the new Flinn class.

As soon as we stepped into Lazlo’s yard, we were greeted by at least eight smiling faces (one of which was only five months old) and the most spectacular garden I have ever seen. There were pink and red roses everywhere… No florist in the world could compete with this. All 26 of us (chaperones and guides included) then paraded into the kitchen and sat down, not expecting the feast we were served. We were given homemade gypsy-bread, each loaf the size of a small child, chicken goulash, and a platter of peppers. The food was incredible, but the best was yet to come…

After we all left Lazlo’s house, he took us on a tour of the village. A minute had not even passed, and there were already three young boys following us. I had been in the middle of the pack, so I didn’t have the chance to immediately speak to them. However, just moments after I had turned around to follow the group again, I felt a quick tug on my shirt and then a tap on the elbow.

I turned around and standing in front of me was my first Roma friend; his name was Roland and he was wearing a red, Ronaldo soccer jersey. He asked me for my name and I told him “Jonah.” That must be a difficult name for the children here to remember, because for the rest of the day he, and every other kid, called me “Jon” (with the long ‘o’ sound). This is the new identity I have acquired since being on this trip. Roland and I first connected because we both had our ears pierced; he was the one to point this out.

The second boy I met was named Loti; he had a cannon for an arm! We first met as I was walking down the street with the group, and I was playing with a paddle-ball (you know, the paddle that has a ball connected to it by a stretchy string). He saw me playing with it, came up to me, pointed to the toy, then pointed at himself and smiled. I immediately knew he wanted to have it for himself. As soon as I told him it was all his, he fist-pumped like Tiger Woods and couldn’t stop smiling. Throughout the day I taught him how to use it, and by the end of the day, he was a pro (my coaching had nothing to do with it; he was a natural talent and was so easy to teach).

The final kid I met was named Emilio. I can’t think about Emilio without thinking about myself; he was about three years old, wore a Pokémon shirt with soccer cleats, and was incredibly shy. I finally was able to break through with him and make him smile; who knew all it would take would be an insect sticker and balloon sword?

Not only were all the kids ecstatic about meeting people from outside their small village, but even the parents and grandparents of the children loved our presence. There was an elderly couple that sat outside their house the entire time, watching us play with the children. At one point, our football went into their yard, so as I retrieved it, I directed a smile towards them, and they returned the gesture; I could tell that they appreciated what we were all doing.

As the day continued, it was great to look around and see every single one of my classmates connecting with either a single child, or with a group of children. Everyone was able to connect via different outlets; I looked around and saw kids getting their faces painted, others playing catch with Nerf footballs, large groups of Flinns and children racing (the kids won most of the time), and others having sword fights. At one point, Ryan and I even shared our dance moves with some kids, not knowing they would come right back and completely out-do us with moves of their own.

This experience in the Roma village has been the best experience of this trip so far. Throughout this trip, we have discussed the idea of truly connecting and interacting with people from different cultures, but I had no idea that it could be as easy as playing with children. It is so interesting how people of different cultures can connect without any prejudice or discrimination.

For me, the visit to the Roma Village was more than just a chance to make a community smile and have fun; it was definitely an experience that put the pressing issues we discussed just days before into perspective. I realized the immediate need for a change in the opportunities given to the children, as well as the injustices that the Roma face daily. Meeting a group of children that will have to grow up dealing with the problems that currently plague the Roma saddens me, and has actually given me the motivation to hopefully return to Central Europe in the near future and also become active in attempts to increase opportunities of minorities in Arizona.

Leaving this village has been the hardest thing we have had to do this entire trip - even harder than carrying 50 pounds of luggage up four flights of narrow stairs. As we were heading towards the bus to leave, I felt a familiar tug on my shirt and tap on my elbow. Roland and Loti wanted to get a picture with me before I left. We took a picture on Roland’s phone, and then one on a camera we brought with us, because they wanted to make sure I had a picture of them as well. One of my classmates said it best when we sat down on the bus, “I left part of my heart in that village.” I know I left a large part of my heart in the village.

The first thing Lazlo said to us when we sat down for lunch was, “If you only remember a single sound, a single color, a single image… if you think about us just once when you go home… that will be enough.” I promise that when I return home, I will remember every single sound, every single color, every single child I played with, and that single Roma village.

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.

Savannah Martin ('10)

We rolled into Pécs around 12:45, sleepy, starving and sluggish. The city greeted our droopy eyes with crumbling brick facades and shady trees, houses nestled into rolling hills. Immediately, I knew I wasn't in Budapest anymore. Our walking tour of the city revealed a youthful, fresh atmosphere and a feeling of optimism that was absent from the capital. Many people in Budapest still carry the weight of communism like mud caked on their shoes. It seems the sun shines a little brighter in Pécs.

After the tour, Carter and I explored Király utca, or King street, which features most of the pubs and restaurants in the city, including a McDonalds and a place called "Arizona Ranch." We walked until we thought there was nothing left to see, finally stumbling upon Sufni Art Pub. This unique café sits inconspicuously at just about the end of Király. Inside, the walls are covered with handwritten anecdotes, signatures and cartoons left by the people who have passed through.

Exhausted umbrellas hang from the ceiling and antiques clutter every available space. We settled into a pair of decaying chairs and had a relaxing evening- chatting, writing emails, and listening to the gentle rain. All too soon it was time to return to the hotel and meet up with the rest of the group, but not before leaving a part of ourselves behind in blue sharpie.

Strolling down Király utca under my Walmart travel umbrella, I felt an overwhelming feeling of contentment. Here I was with an extraordinary friend splashing through the streets of one of the most beautiful cities I've ever experienced. And it only got better.  We walked onto the main square and turned to face a perfect double rainbow stretched across the evening sky. City Hall glowed in the setting sun and the rain pattered in the cobblestone streets.

These were my first six hours in Pécs.

I know it all sounds terribly cliché, but I'm not exaggerating. This simple, unexpected experience is going to be one of my most treasured memories. And I've learned that it is these instances that make an experience not only unique, but yours. Whether it is dancing to traditional Hungarian music, playing with children in a Roma village, discovering a cool pub or merely a rainbow, an experience is memorable because you make it yours and you make it new.

We've colored this trip with our own palette and it can never be recreated; this truly is a once-in-a-lifetime deal. In fact, over the past few days I've realized that everything in life is. Every conversation, interaction, all of it is distinct- so own it. Invest yourself in each day, because there will never be another one like it.

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.

Lindsey Gibson ('10)

From Flinn Scholarship information sessions to the annual retreat at Lost Canyon, seasoned Scholars spend much of their time reminiscing.  Without fail, the Central European Seminar always finds its way to the center of the conversation.  To say I looked forward to my own turn at this adventure with excitement is certainly a bit of an understatement.

Yet, despite all of the hype associated with the seminar, I always wondered if the trip would truly live up to all of my expectations and provide the same level of enlightenment and personal growth for me as it has for so many other Flinn Scholars.  Because of this unknown, the "Central European Seminar" always seemed quite distant.  During the past couple of years, it has been a source of common ground (if you will, a convenient conversation topic) for scholarship candidates and freshmen Flinns.  Needless to say, I never thought this trip would arrive so soon.  Even as I reflect upon today's activities in a quaint room of the Radio Inn, which is located in the heart of Budapest, the past week still seems quite surreal.  

The rhythmic beat of water droplets falling from fleshly laundered clothing hung strategically throughout the room coupled with the constant hum of distant traffic creates a peaceful atmosphere this late night.  This calmness mirrors the tranquility of the day and presents an ideal moment to reflect upon the day... 

This morning begins without disturbance as we enjoy a brief taste of home, scrambled eggs, at the Slovak Pub.  The relatively few hours of sleep during this leg of the journey are evidenced by the quietness (not common to this group of students) at the restaurant this morning.  However, our enthusiasm is quickly revived as we begin to discuss our plans for our first and last free morning in Bratislava.  Since yesterday's short tour of the city has not quite afforded us the level of familiarity with the city that we desire, a small group of us decide to spend the morning exploring the city on foot.  After packing our suitcases, we wonder down to the Danube River.  As we rest along the riverside, I am finally able to organize my thoughts about this city.  

Since the tension between past and present, or the communist and post-communist eras, has been the theme of many of our lectures and conversations during the trip, I consider the changes that have occurred in this very city during the past two decades.  Across the street from our post, a vibrantly colored advertisement extends the length of a large business building.  The sign depicts laughing children and young, carefree couples.  It embodies the hopefulness and freedom promised by a democratic nation.  Despite such demonstrations of optimism, remnants of the past still exist and often evoke strong emotions among citizens.  As I turn to face the river, the unique UFO tower, which was constructed during the communist era, is hard to miss.  While such memories torment some citizens, many experience nostalgia and yearn for the past because of them.

This tension extends to other countries throughout central Europe.  Our journey from Bratislava, Slovakia to Budapest, Hungary reveals many of the changes during the past decades.  Soon we cross the border between Slovakia and Hungary, I remember the words of yesterday's presenter and foreign correspondent Michael J. Jordan, who encouraged us to examine these changes.  While citizens of both countries under communist control were suppressed and unable to travel freely from one country to another, today we do not encounter difficulty and can easily pass from one country to the next.  As a citizen of the United States, I have not experienced such sweeping political and social changes in my life.  However, this evolution is vital to understanding many central Europeans and has enriched our experience during this trip.  

After we enjoy the gorgeous natural landscapes from the bus for the next few hours, seventeen of us spontaneously decide to visit the Buda Labyrinth.  Several screams and a few wrong turns later, we finally conclude our escapade.  The group gradually splinters off into smaller groups as we try to settle on a place for dinner.  Hungarian pizza is the final verdict for Tina, Kevin, and me.  Laughter abounds as the three of us navigate our way back to our hotel, a priceless end to such a rejuvenating day. 

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.

Quentin Gunn ('10)

Today was exhausting to say the least. Our schedule listed the activity as a visit to look at the environmental issues occurring on the Danube River in the northern part of Hungary. I thought this would mean some more lectures on the Danube strategy, because of our past activities involving the European Union. However, when we reached the first destination of our day I realized we were in for something completely different.

We arrived at a nature-preserve house that had many different displays about the ecology of the Danube River, all in Hungarian of course, and our guide, Gabor, and his translator, Ester. This was the first lecture we have had that required a translator and was the most difficult for me to follow as a result. However, he was still able to give us a good overview of the history of the region, starting with the origin myth, which included dragons, rangers, magic crystals and faeries. Our group also had a fun time playing with the different displays and puzzles in the house.

After that we went on the first of a series of hikes. This hike was designed to examine the natural flora and fauna of the river area. I found the general atmosphere of the area to be similar to the San Pedro riparian area in Cochise County.

Then came the most exciting part of the day--lunch, thought it was mostly because of a special surprise... music! The area we were eating lunch at was an outdoor picnic area with an open kitchen located in some fields. Our guide and translator's family ran the kitchen and made us goulash, the best I have had so far on the trip, and spaghetti for the vegetarians. The musicians were some of Ester's family and friend and were an unscheduled part of our trip. When we were done eating, we had the opportunity to learn some traditional Hungarian circle dances, which were fun to try. I'm sure many of the pictures and videos from our impromptu dance lesson will show up on Facebook soon enough.

Eventually the music finished and we left for our next few hikes of the afternoon. We visited many of the dams and floodgates built along this section of the Danube in the 90s. I had never seen floodgates before, and found them to be quite massive. We also got to go look for beavers along the river. They had been reintroduced in the last few years and had seen a surge in their population. Sadly, we were unable to spot any of these elusive creatures during our hike, though not for lack of trying.

A quick thought on the village we were in before I move on to the next stage in our journey. I found Szigetkoz, Hungary to be quaint and a nice change from Budapest. Most of the houses were painted nice bright colors and we saw many of the citizens walking or riding bikes to enjoy the day. I also liked what I assumed to be their church and the statue of St. Stephen I saw while driving out of the town. Unfortunately we weren't able to explore the area very much, though there seemed to be several wonderful shops and restaurants around.

Next, after thanking our guide and translator, we had an uneventful drive to Bratislava, Slovakia. We arrived at the Patio Hostel and got our quick introduction to the city from a Fulbright scholar, Anna, who was teaching English in the country. Armed with a set of words and phrases in Slovak, we were sent out to find dinner on our own. The group I went out with consisted of Rae Ann, Angela, C.T. and Savannah. Our first stop was one of the castles in the city, where a security guard allowed us to look around the area. I am not sure of the name of the place at the moment, but I'm sure I'll find it out tomorrow. After looking around and taking pictures, we left to wander around the downtown district. The whole area was fairly deserted, but we eventually settled on an outdoors restaurant because we were all hungry. The food was good, even the drink I order without any knowledge of what it consisted of, and we all had fun sharing stories from the last year.

I'll just close out my blog entry with a shout out to Kata, our IIE leader, for putting on an amazing set of programs so far and our driver for his skill in getting us to our destinations safely.

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.

Ryan Lane ('10)

Enthusiasm works better than coffee. Every morning on this journey, I've risen quickly, jolting awake to the prospect of learning more incredible information and crafting memories with the amazing individuals who accompany me on this journey.

The enthusiasm is validated as soon as breakfast starts. Today is full, as they all are. We have a crash-course lecture, workshop, and panel on the European Union, but only after we navigate Budapest to find each appropriate location. The group finishes their breakfast, breaks out the maps, and leaves the Radio Inn in small parties.

We get there a few minutes early, smiling and laughing and living all the way—a beautiful constant of this trip.

The instructional sessions were incredibly informative, especially because many of us had only brief introductions to the topics presented. Hungary's entire political system experienced massive changes following the election of Fidesz party last year. The party currently holds a supermajority in Hungary's parliament, and has enacted sweeping changes to the government's structure. Exactly how these changes will affect Hungary's relationship with the European Union is yet to be seen, but we were fortunate to hear the perspectives of several prominent EU experts regarding their potential consequences.

The day's presentations adjourned in the early evening, leaving a few hours before we had to meet up with our Hungarian home-stays. Some went back to the hotel to nap, but a few us went to a small basement tea house. Sipping oolongs on cushions, we chatted about the day's shenanigans, laughing all the way.

At 7pm, our university student home-stays picked us up. Some groups went to nice restaurants, others visited beautiful city-sights, and others explored the Budapest night-life. All felt the energy of the last night (for a little while) in the city and wanted to make sure this first leg of the trip ended on a high note. My home-stay and I danced through the night, connecting over cultural tid-bits and our future aspirations shared above the nightclub's electronica. I could not have asked for a better communion.

I feel endlessly fortunate for the beautiful experiences we've enjoyed these last few days. This trip has incredible potential, in every sense of the word.

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.

Angela Abolhassani ('10)

Gliding on the tarmac, our airplane moves forward into the heavy heat of an Arizona night. A sharp click announces the tightening of one last seatbelt. Finally, the engines begin whirring to a climax and silence overwhelms the cabin for the first and last time on our flight. As the lattice of Phoenix city lights grows beyond the oval window to my left, the plane orients itself midair in a way that makes my stomach drop. The inertia of the movement creates an illusion of weightlessness for just a moment, as though there is a vast vacuum of space within me.

It is in this space where I can feel the stress of finals, last minute travel arrangements, and the illusion of complete control slide away. I feel wiped clean of nervous energy and comforted by the sandwich of Flinn Scholars that are seated on either side of me. The instant passes, I giggle, (a rare occurrence), and we are airborne. Hungerbia has officially commenced. This is where the 2011 Central European Flinn Seminar journey begins.

The relaxation of accumulated nerves I experienced seems to have affected all of my fellow classmates. Our first day was inspired with an anticipation for this trip that has filled an entire freshman year of college for each of us. Every new event supplied a momentum to this feeling that was only minorly obstructed by jet lag.

For example upon arrival at the Radio Inn and after thirteen hours in the air, a majority of the Scholars opted to go on a brisk walk to Hero’s Square despite the indecent (Michael Cochise Young’s phrase) hour. The monolithic scale of an expansive square and expressive copper statues inspired much ogling and cooing as we assimilated our first impressions of Budapest.

Our first morning presented the city to us in a wash of clean sunshine. Once divided into two groups, IIE orientations and tours to either the Buda or Pest sides of the city began. Each detail of the Budapest cityscape had some of kind of historical and cultural significance to it, making the city feel like a living mosaic of the past, present, and future of Hungary. What Bethany Vu described as “layers of buildings” continuously distracted everyone as the diversity of Hungarian architecture displayed itself in full form during the tours. The city is charmed with an eclectic beauty wrought by baroque steelwork, hidden courtyards, and reliefs that made some statues look as though they are crawling from the walls of surrounding buildings. Surrealism coated each new activity as we delved deeper into the city as well as plans for the Slovakian and Serbian portions of the seminar.

We were granted a brief period of repose at the Inn before making our way to the Danube for a river cruise in the company of Hungarian students. The Hungarian students were truly incredible individuals who helped guide us through the splay of authentic foods that were served onboard. The falling sun accentuated the contours of buildings lining the Danube in addition to the green hills of Buda on the right and the modern city structures of Pest on the left. An accompaniment of string instruments added to the ambience of the cruise, and any initial awkwardness soon dissipated as subjects varying from music to prom to politics floated around the dining room. The students we met on the cruise will also be hosting individuals of our class for the first homestay of the trip on Friday night. I am particularly excited to stay with my hostess, Anna, who showed me various times throughout the night that humor could most definitely transcend linguistic barriers.

Overall, the day was packed with an almost dreamlike range of events and emotions. This impression may have been due to the jet lag; however, I’d like to think that it was also rooted in an awe inspired not only by the city of Budapest itself, but also by the amazing crossroads of anticipation, excitement, and hope at which my class now finds itself.

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

Galen Lamphere-Englund ('09)

Today was a much-needed day of rest, recuperation, and reflection. Frightfully early this morning we boarded our bus, which has begun to smell a tad off after several weeks of occupation, and Lszl began the long drive back to Budapest from Cluj-Napoca. After being roused barely an hour into our sleep we all lapsed back into silent, deep sleep during much of the eight hour ride.

There were a few moments of consciousness during the drive, and in those precious glimpses of light I found myself reflecting back on the past week in Transylvania. There has been beautiful humanity: the faces of our gracious hosts in Homorodszentpeter, the inquisitive looks from children outside the one store in Targu Mures; the bouncing Latin club in Cluj, filled with incredibly friendly Iraqi soldiers training with the Romanian military.

The remarkable bonds of commonality between all people is even more apparent here. Whether in small villages that are struggling with integrating into a modern world or in odd clubs that reek of years of smoke and dance, I see similar faces to ones I know back home. While conversing about esoteric political philosophy with a Croatian expatriate in a cozy bar in Pest, I realized, more viscerally than ever before, that there are no true differences between humans anywhere. I find personalities that I know everywhere I go. There are friends of kindred spirit, even though we have may never before met have met. Common faces, bodies, ideas, and, above all, a shared sense of humanity is impossible to escape once one desires to see them. The lessons spurred by that revelation have been potent ones. Our biases, largely created by superficial societies, engender such strong blinders over our eyes that we truly forget each other.

However, the lessons to be learned here by opening one's eyes are not limited to personal ones. While driving through the verdant farmlands of Translyvania I could not help but stare at the horrific testimonials to Chauchescu's tyrannical rule. One of the other Flinns remarked the all the buildings are black and dirty here, a symptom of the many years of unchecked pollution. Giant concrete industrial complexes litter the fields: nuclear reactors, coal power plants, and half-functioning, degrading train stations. Close to one of our stops earlier in the week lay Copsa Mica, one of the most polluted sites in all Europe, where all the trees for ten miles are stained with black soot even fifteen years after most functions stopped. The dictator's mad push for industrialization without any balancing or environmental checks has wrecked havoc on the environment and health of much of Romania. His concrete, Soviet bloc-style complexes for former village dwellers, erected over beautiful old sectors of towns, serve as reminders in the cities of that crazed drive.

Yet today stringent new EU regulations threaten to achieve what even Chauchescu could not: a complete elimination of small farmers and more harmonious village life. Instead of heeding the lessons of unchecked, perilous progress, the entire world is now forging ahead, led by Western industry, in foolishly forgetting the permacultural techniques employed in the old villages. Why do we, as a culture and modern world, continually seek to reinvent our ways in search of new "profits"? Why do we not instead look to the past and observe the lesson that have been taught before?

Perhaps this is the most potent lesson that I am being taught my our travels: Just as there are no different humans around the world, so too are there are no "new ideologies" or "grand ideas." New thoughts, new iterations perhaps, but no truly new individual ideas. Those belong to us all and they are immutable through human time and space. Romania has opened my eyes even wider to realize this truth.

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

Adam Martinez ('09)

Several somnolent Scholars were greeted with a rudely early wake-up call in the form of gale-force winds  at four in the morning. Ultimately, the damage was small: one broken window in Sachi and Emma's sleeping quarters. Needless to say, it gave them quite a fright, and many of us rode out the rest of the storm questioning the structural integrity of each of our small huts.

The morning began again under better pretenses at around eight, when we awoke to the smell of fresh rain and the sound of birds chirping in Romanian. Herded by our responsible chaperones, we made our way to the bus to depart to Cluj. The next few minutes saw us waving goodbye to both the immaculate lawn, upon which the hotel management had forbidden us to tread, and the looming Rimetean mountain, to which the thunderstorm had likewise denied us access. We got settled on the bus and, after a bout of bleary-eyed yet blessedly-brief reflections, took advantage of the opportunity to supplement our meager sleep supply.

The duration of the actual bus ride remains a mystery. Each passenger was either still caught up in the previous eventful night, looking forward to Cluj, or happily dreaming of shower curtains, peanut butter, and marshmallows, three objects that the Iron Curtain seems to have permanently scared out of Central Europe.

We crested the last hill before the city of Cluj, the supposed laundry Mecca of Romania, a detail that was anything but unappreciated by this ragged band of sink-launderers. Unfortunately, we appeared to have been misled, as laundromats were as elusive there as they were in every other city we had visited. Nevertheless, our attitudes were far brighter than our travel-worn attire would suggest, and we marched on proudly, if somewhat odorously.

After a brief stop at the hotel to gather our wits, we were whisked away to the Faculty of Economics and Business Administration at Babe?-Bolyai University, the premier public university of Romania. Our lecture was on the Romanian economy, and it was given by Professor Michaela Lutas in a stuffy, humid room in which the air hadn't been conditioned until our arrival. By the time the atmosphere became bearable, the lecture had finished and we'd exhausted our questions. Regardless, it was quite informative, particularly about Romania's economy just prior to the economic downturn of 2008.

Next on the agenda was a themed video scavenger hunt in the heart of Cluj. Our gang of Flinn Scholars split into four smaller groups, each of which was handed a themed list of clues. The clues (perhaps objectives or directions would be more accurate) were the same for everybody, things like "Sing a Disney song in a public place" or "Taste an authentic Romanian dessert." The themes, however, differed, and included "Transition," "Contradiction," "History," and one that appears to have slipped my mind.

It's safe to say that this activity became the landmark experience of the day--not to suggest that our later folk-dancing lesson wasn't amazing as well. I'm positive that, during the scavenger hunt, each group experienced a great variety of wonderful things, but the only group I can truly speak for is my own. Our first stop was a public fountain swarming with children. It was here that we fulfilled our "Take a video of your group playing" clue. Several clues later and on our way to checking off the "Take a bus to a public monument" clue, we stopped by a fruit stand for sustenance in the form of a kilo of ripe cherries. The rest of the scavenger hunt was a big happy blur, with our enthusiastic, albeit roadweary, band of travelers proceeding fearlessly onward and leaving nothing but good memories and a trail of cherry pits in our wake.

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

Anne Marie Norgren ('06)

Saturday, June 12th was an extremely busy day. It was physically exhausting, as we walked around the city of Targu Mures while the temperature was over 100 degrees and very humid. It was also mentally exhausting, as we went to three lectures and a tour and discussed some important and weighty issues in Romania. However, while exhausting, the day was satisfying, as it provided us with more perspectives and viewpoints on the history, culture, and social issues in Romania.

One of the recurring themes of this trip is the obvious tension between different ethnic groups in Romania, including Romanians, ethnic Hungarians, and Roma people. We have attended numerous lectures that discuss these issues, and the latest was a lecture on minority issues given by Maria Korek, former Project Manager for a Romanian organization dealing with inter-ethnic relations. In her lecture, Ms. Korek explained the tensions between Romanians and ethnic Hungarians living in Romania. Before the 1920 Trianon Treaty, much of what is now Romania belonged to Hungary. Therefore, after the treaty, much of Hungary became part of Romania, even though it was home to an extremely large population of Hungarians.

Still today, millions of Hungarians live within Transylvania in Romania. For the most part, they have fought to keep their language and culture alive. In fact, in Transylvania, an ethnic Hungarian child can go to a Hungarian language school or even live in an entirely Hungarian-language town. The reason for the tensions between Romanians and ethnic Hungarians come from the fact that Romania has attempted to get Hungarians to assimilate, while Hungarians have fought to live as Hungarians in the lands that their families have lived in for generations. Ethnic Hungarians living in Transylvania are stuck in between two identities: they are not Romanian, but they are not allowed to be entirely Hungarian either. Therefore, they are caught somewhere in between, and there are still many unresolved issues as a result of this century-long tension.

To give a more tangible example, I will provide a metaphor. Imagine that next year the US signs a treaty where (somehow) Arizona becomes part of Mexico. If Mexico acted as Romania did when this happened in 1920, Mexico would then force Arizonans to speak Spanish, teach their kids Mexican history, and follow Mexican norms. Then Arizonans would rise up, gain influence, and establish society of their own—an English-speaking community within Mexico. In response to this, people would ask Arizonans, “Why don't you just move to the US?” And Arizonans would reply, “We didn't move to Mexico. Mexico moved to us.” That is essentially what happened (and is happening) in Transylvania. Just imagine the tensions that causes.

Unlike the Hungarian minority, which has power and influence in Romanian society, the Roma minority, which is probably close to two million people, has little to no influence in the larger society. The Roma, or Gypsies, are marginalized by society and live in extreme poverty. The unemployment rate is 90% among the Roma, which illustrates how little this minority has been able to integrate into society. The strong prejudices against the Roma by Romanians and Hungarians alike further pushes them to the fringes of society, and their situation does not seem to be improving. Ms. Korek pointed out that a change in mentality of the majority is required before the Roma will ever be able to get out of their current dire situation. But only time will tell what form this “change” will take.

After the lecture on minority issues, we attended a lecture on social issues, given by an employee of the Alpha Transylvania Foundation, an NGO devoted to increasing life opportunities for disabled persons within Romania (unfortunately, I was not able to get the lecturer's name). The most striking part of this lecture was the discussion about civil society in Romania, which was a communist country where the nonprofit sector did not exist until after 1989.

Our speaker discussed how nonprofits are forming in order to “fill in the gaps” in social services that government and for-profit agencies cannot address. Yet these new nonprofits still have to fight to be heard by the Romanian government. For example, the Alpha Transylvania Foundation applied for a government grant to run their daycare center, and the government agreed to the grant and signed a contract to give them the funding. However, when it came down to it, the government did not come through, and the foundation was forced to close down the center for a week while lobbying for the funds that were promised to them by the state.

Therefore, as much as the third sector is gaining more weight in the previously-communist state of Romania, it still has a long way to go to be accepted, influential, and supported by the government and by the general public. However, this sector has had some major achievements, and unlike many of our lectures in Romania, this lecture provided an extreme sense of hope. The speaker was optimistic about the possibilities for her foundation and for the entire nonprofit sector in the future, and pointed out that the general public, including the media, is starting to understand and offer to help. She made clear that the nonprofit sector is built using the freedom that Romanians gained after the fall of communism in 1989. And she had hope for the future of the sector, claiming that NGOs are playing an increasingly larger role in Romanian society.

Now that I am reliving the day of June 12th, I feel even more lucky to be hearing multiple different viewpoints on the major issues in Romanian society. In one way, Romania is a very old society, with traditions and culture from the Roman Empire and earlier. Yet in another way, Romania is a very new society, which underwent major transitions in the 20th century that are still affecting everyday life. Who knows what the future will hold?

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

Derek Huang ('09)

This morning, I had breakfast at a local pastry shop with Galen and Blake. The prices were so low, we ended up trying out four or five different pastries. Honestly, I don't know how so many Flinns in our class have stayed skinny. I guess we do a lot of walking, talking, volleyball, and soccer playing, so it probably all balances out in the end. One major lifestyle difference I've noticed here is that the people eat their food in public places, while walking, talking or playing with their children. I've seen gelato cones everywhere on the streets, but not a single gallon-sized box of ice cream on store shelves. I think it's a better way to treat food--not as a guilt-laden, private pleasure, but as a shared one that is soon walked off. A meal is more fulfilling when eaten slowly and with good company.

When we left Alba Iulia for Simisoara, I did not think that we would be crossing any borders, as both cities are in Romania. However, somewhere along the way, we passed into the region of Transylvania, which is mostly Hungarian. Being in an area where ethnicity is a much stronger identifier than nationality was truly a new experience for me. As a scientist-in-training, my first reaction to the new experience was to categorize it, to tag it with descriptions:

European
Romanian
Hungarian
Transylvanian

Which are the most important to the people here? Something I take for granted as an Asian-American is in fact the validity of that very label. I am both Asian and American, with neither canceling the other. This acceptance of not only diversity, but also of plural identity, is what my homestay in Budapest, Máté, said he admired the most about America. Maybe one day there will be people who proudly call themselves Hungarian-Romanian. Maybe this will never happen. It is a difficult question to answer.

After Simisoara, we drove to a small ethnically Hungarian village of about two hundred people, where we were welcomed with copious amounts of strong palinka and a kind of sugar-dusted, hole-less donut. A word about palinka: this Hungarian drink is a type of brandy made from a fruit like peach or cherry. The palinka I'd had up until today were usually very sweet and fruity. The traditional palinka we were offered at the village, however, was much, much stronger. Some of the Flinns slowly sipped the drink. Others decided to get it over with in one gulp. Whatever their approach, there was a basket of sugary donuts nearby to help soothe a palinka-shocked palate.

Then we learned some Hungarian folk dances! I enjoyed this part especially, because even though I loved going to different clubs around Budapest and dancing to modern music, there are aspects of folk dancing that are just more fun. The biggest difference is the feeling of inclusion in folk dancing. Everyone lined up in a circle and held each other's hands while dancing the same moves. By the end of it, we were all soaked in sweat. I had to change into my third shirt of the day.

The freshly cooked goulash and bread at dinner was delicious. The singing and dancing after dinner with the accordion player was fun. Usually I think of tradition as something that binds, guides and fortifies its followers, but here I was reminded that the tradition of hospitality was, at its core, simply the art of having a great time.