Where's my stamp?

As I might have mentioned to a few people,  I was in Budapest this week.  A colleague was giving a presentation/training on our current pumps to some of our reps and distributors around the area (Hungary, Romania, Slovenia, etc).  I was there mostly to observe since this the same presentation that I will be giving all across the US when I return.  There were 16 of us that had gotten together at the Ramada hotel representing about 8 or so different countries and everyone spoke English, sort of.  The presenter is from England so he was the only real English speaker.  Americans don't really speak English according to England, so I didn't count.  Americans pretty much stole the English language and then started changing things we didn't like.  No wonder England doesn't like us.  We steal everything from them (e.g. music and David Beckham).  Some of the group could understand more than they could speak, which was fine since Netzsch would be doing most of the talking anyway.

Let me take a step back for a second.  I met up with my colleague from England and we took a taxi to the hotel.  We got there around 2PM and didn't have to be anywhere until 8PM for dinner at the hotel.  So we dropped our bags off in the rooms, grabbed a few maps and headed out into town.  Budapest is divided into two areas, Buda and Pest (pronounced Pescht).  They are divided by the Danube River.  Our hotel was on the Pest side.  Anyhow, we walked into town and managed to navigate to the subway and locate a place where we could get some food and a couple beers.  Afterward we trekked down to the river which would lead us to the Parliament building.  It's one of many buildings there that still maintain that old style architecture that looks like it came from ancient Greece or Rome.  Magnificent sculptures and artwork on the outside of the buildings.  Well we got a little too close to the Parliament building and a security guard in a green poncho swooped down to the ground like batman to scold us.  A little startled by this angry man, we laughed and continued on our way.  My partner in crime thought it was funny that he immediately started yelling at us in English rather than Hungarian.  I suggested that he knew we were foreigners because no other idiots would hop over the chain-linked fence that surrounds the building.  After that we used our inherited manly sense of direction to get back to the subway that would get us within walking distance to the hotel.  We even managed to buy the correct tickets from the automated machine rather than going up to the teller.  After getting off of the subway we were greeted by more security guards at the top of the escalator asking to see our tickets.  Fuck.  I had just thrown mine out in the trashcan at the bottom of the escalator.  I figured I was already off the subway so I didn't need it anymore.  Well they weren't buying it.  My accomplice and I both tried to talk our way out of paying the fine but they weren't budging.  6000 forints ($1 US = 200 forints).  Having been defeated, I payed the 30 bucks so they would shut up and we could get back to the hotel for dinner.  My stomach was a rumblin!

Dinner was pretty interesting.  The food was good, but the portions were pretty small.  I'm still hooked on the American diet which means I don't want to see any white space on that plate.  Fill it up!  I ate everything that was put in front of me and made short work of the bread bowls.  The rest of the night was filled with lots of international jokes and conversation that kept us up until about midnight.  The presentation went fairly well the next day.  I enjoyed the witty jokes that were mixed in while also learning a bit more about some technical issues regarding our pump design.  The technical information proved to be too much for some people while others were simply overloaded.  The presentation took about 8 hours, plus all the coffee breaks that kept everyone awake (mostly).

After the training was over we all got ready to go out for dinner at a local Hungarian restaurant.  Again, the food was good.  The portions were a bit better than the first dinner we had, but still falling short of the 'American standard.'  Following dinner we drove around to some other historical buildings that were dressed in the same ancient looking architecture as the Parliament building.  Imagining how these building were made without all the modern technology we have now is mind blowing.  It's incredible how they were able to much such large structures back then and make sure that everything is in perfect alignment.  We made about 4 or 5 stops before arriving back at the hotel around 1AM.  Lucky me, I had to be up at 6 so I could be on time for my flight back to Munich.  I was pretty destroyed by the time I made it back to the office.  Somehow I snapped out of it just before a web conference that afternoon.

When I got to Budapest no one checked for my passport.  There was no check in point when I got off the flight.  You simply pick up your bags and leave the airport.  Where the hell is my stamp?  What good is a passport if you can't fill it up with stamps of where you've been?  I want proof dammit!  I asked someone at an information center and she told me that you can travel pretty much anywhere in Europe without needing to show a passport (other than to get your boarding pass).  There are a few countries that this does not hold true with, but they're like the red headed step children of Europe.  I made sure to hold onto a handful of Hungarian cash and coin, so at least I've got something to show for being in Budapest.  Aside from nearly getting arrested for trespassing and not having a subway ticket that is.

Prideless Independence

A week or so ago I had a conversation over the phone with a friend of mine, all in German.  At first I didn't think too much about it.  Heck I've been here for six months I ought to be able to hold a conversation, even if I still sound like a 3rd grader.  The next day when we got together, he told me how surprised he was that I never once broke out of German.  Even more surprised was his girlfriend.  She had asked who was on the phone and was taken aback when she learned that I was on the other side of the call.  It would have been a dead giveaway had we been speaking English, but since we were conversing in German there was no direct indication that it was me.  I'll admit, both of their reactions made me feel good.  It was a sign that learning to speak German, somewhat fluently, wasn't going to be impossible.

A few days later, I revisited those thoughts and it made me realize something else.  Since moving to Germany I've become more independent as well as learning how to ask for help.  That's not an oxymoron.  I've always thrived on being independent.  For as long as I can remember I've always been one to do things on my own, to do things my way and to do it without help.  Yeah, I was that stubborn ass and I still am.  It is that quality though that drives me.  It is the fuel that gets me through grueling track workouts, the fuel that gets me up the mountain, or simply the fuel that gets me through a shitty day at work.  It has been the driving force behind my determination and persistence in nearly all that I do.  My tenacious character isn’t all gravy though.  In fact it’s come back to bite me in the ass on a few occasions.  Like when taking a gamble that I was right about something, only to get it really wrong and watch it blow up in my face.  Or procrastinating something for too long because I was too stubborn to ask someone for help.  But when learn from our mistakes.

Living in Germany has taught me how to better balance the two.  There are times where I needed to be self sufficient while also needing to check my pride at the door.  Case in point, my survival instincts kicked into high gear when I needed to get some food in the fridge.  When I first got here, I had no means of transportation other than a good pair of running shoes and no means of calling anyone unless I wanted to make like Croc Dundee and wake up the whole neighborhood.  So I laced up my shoes and started my hunt for town.  On the border of walking home in defeat after not finding a store after an hour of searching, I made a final push and asked someone for directions (in German).  I made it to the store that day and stocked up.  I could tell similar stories of finding the laundry mat, or establishing a bank account, or getting a cell phone.  Some things I could manage with a determined search through town while other things I needed to ask for help from my friends.  I wasn’t really interested in messing up something like a bank account or getting raped by a ridiculous cell phone plan.

Being independent has taken on a new meaning since moving to Germany.  It means being able to get past the fear of trying new things while knowing when to let go of your pride and ask for help.  I checked both at the airport.