Epilogue

I have now been back in America for almost two months. While I don't have anything truly out of the ordinary to report (since I'm living a pretty typical college-age summer life) I thought it might be interesting to do one last update to this blog.

My flight back to the states was uneventful; I took some Tylenol PM and was able to sleep fairly peacefully on the Trans-Atlantic journey. There weren't any crying babies or obnoxious aisle partners to disturb me, so I was fairly alert for my first American experience in 5 months. I had a lay-over in O'Hare, and so as I entered the long hallway leading to all the gates, I can say with complete honesty that I was terrified. I felt like the walls were screaming "BUY SOMETHING! SPEND MONEY!" There were too many people all speaking too loudly, congregated near one of the 5 McDonalds within sight, or buying glossy magazines and large flavored coffees. However, I must admit that I went to an overpriced book and bagel shop and bought a huge Diet Coke, which I guzzled as I sat in a puddle of insecurity at gate 57.

I don't really remember entering the Minneapolis airport. It's like my senses were so overloaded that I didn't have any room to make new memories. I do remember seeing my parents. That was so cool. It was like nothing had changed, and they were just picking me up from college (only they were really excited). Riding home was an adventure. I was not used to riding in automobiles, and so the luxury of having my own space was really unsettling. I was very used to cramming in the Metro or in Trams and Trolleys, making sure that all my belongings were held in such a way as to make theft less of a possibility. The idea that I could place my purse on the seat next to me and look out the window was luxurious. I was also surprised at how HUGE the cars were! In Eastern Europe everyone drove tiny little manual cars and many people all sqeezed in cars together, which was a huge contrast to the gas-guzzling SUV's and pick-up trucks that seated one person. It was really sickening: testosterone-filled males feel that they can purchase giant trucks, not to be used to carry heavy objects in the cargo area, but for the sole purpose of fufilling a Freudian masculinity requirement.

The first thing I had to eat was a HUGE hamburger. I never had a love for ground beef until I couldn't find it. It was better than the gormet meals of Hungary. I used an inappropriate amount of ketchup, glorying in the fact that it wasn't the sweet and viscous European "ketchup."

I slept like the dead that night, although the silence of my rural home was, for a time, positively deafening. I was so used to sleeping through the drunken songs of young Hungarians that the normal chirping of birds and singing of frogs practically kept me awake.

Although I'm starting to get over it, I still have a bit of trouble with the constant consumerism of the United States. I never noticed how vibrant everything is, and by that I mean that every bit of, well, everything is pondered! I never knew I was capable of writing such an un-informative sentence as that previous one. It was like I was living in a world of commercials; everyone and everything was trying to penetrate me in an attempt to sell me something that I "needed."

When I think back to my experience abroad, there are some parts of it that are constantly prominant in my memory. Here's a list of them:

*Krakow: Oscar Schindler's factory, Auswitz, and Birkenau. I have never had such a life changing experience. I am a very changed person regarding my views of the Holocaust. I watched Schinder's List the other day, and it was a terrifically difficult experience for me.

*Statue Park: That eerie music playing in the lonely, expansive courtyard containing huge remants of such an oppresive era.

*Turkey: I took a day off and did my homework in a park situated directly in between the Haggia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, and adjacent to the Topkapi Palace. I drank freshly squeezed orange juice and ate Turkish sweet bread and did math. It was wonderful.

*Meeting the Muslim people: I have never met such a friendly, genuine group before. It's hard for me to hear the government and the public critiscizing the Muslims in general, when it is such a tiny group of them committing evils to the United States. I want to scream to some people, "I spent afternoons sitting in the sun and drinking orange juice with these people, talking about the merits of being close to your family! One of the most wonderful people I met was named Ocean, the translation of the name Genghis. He would drop anything to make my day better, and he was always ready to laugh, a trait that is diminishing in Americans."

*Figuring out how to shop without a Target: To get soap you needed a drug store, to get towels you needed a linen store, for food you needed a grocery store, for paper you needed a stationary store. I feel that we're lazy and pampered having everything we need owned by the same corporation.

*The Croatian night-life: sitting in open bars and pubs located right next to the Aegean sea. Usually there were park swings instead of chairs. How wonderful.

*The stores were always organized by color. It was so easy for me... I just found the pink section and was happy.

*Meeting my mom and sister in Prague: I hated Prague, but I loved hanging out with my family.

*Public Transportation: I have sooo many memories of taking public transportation.

"Speaking Hungarian: I still can't toast drinks in English.

That's about all I have to say in my Epilogue. I'm happy to be back, but I'm terribly homesick for Budapest. I really came into myself in that city. I feel like I can do anything after my 5 months spent over there. Enjoy America, but travel a lot!!!!

For Carl

Here I am, sitting in an internet cafe in the heart of Budapest for the last time. There is so much I didn't do and so many things I didn't say. For future Budapest Semesters in Mathematics students, here's my advice:
* Take the classes that work for you. The course work here is very difficult, and I saw many students become miserable as they tried to keep up with a schedule that was too demanding. Part of the learning is becoming acclimated to a completely different environment. If it means taking one less math course but spending more time seeing plays or dining out, so be it. You will have learned more in the end.
* Take the class called Elementary Problem Solving. The title of it scared a lot of people off because it seemed so trivial, but in reality, it was an opportunity for me to be exposed to so many interesting subjects. For example, before that class, I had it firmly fixed in my head that I hated game theory because it was only for computer scientists. Now, I realized I actually really enjoy it, thanks to Elementary Problem Solving.
* Take the intensive language course prior to the math classes. It does cost extra, but it gives you a chance to form immediate bonds with your fellow students, which will become increasingly important as the semester goes on. You also learn survival Hungarian: things like numbers, "hello", "goodbye", and "where is the bathroom."
* Take a lot of pictures right away. Things will have not lost their ambiance, and you will also be okay with appearing as a tourist. Right now I'd rather crawl into a hole than look like a tourist since I've been here for so long. I rarely take pictures of Budapest any more.
*Bring peanut butter with you. I know you can buy it at certain places, like Tesco or some organic markets, but it took me a long time to discover these places, and right at the beginning of your time here, you might need something familiar, and a peanut butter sandwich is one of the best remedies for this homesickness.

Hopefully that will help someone, someday. Rather than getting sentimental, I decided to end this blog with the paper I wrote for my History of Math class. I realized that Carl Sagan was the reason I got into math and communication, and so it's only fitting that his story closes my account of my semester of Hungarian mathematics. My information came entirely from www.carlsagan.com, and www.wikipedia.com. I realize wikipedia is not a valid source, but I took only information that was cited.

Carl Sagan was one of the most influential scientists of our time. He had the gift of communication; not only was he brilliant, making huge strides in many disciplines, he successfully communicated his ideals to the general public. Carl Sagan is possibly most widely known for two of his publications. One, Cosmos, published in 1980, was not only the best selling science book published in English, but was also made into a mini-series that aired in 60 countries. This piece of work encompassed much of the known history of the universe up until its publishing. It started with the smallest particles and explained their relationship to the physical world, working all the way up to the principles of supernovae and black holes. The film production embraced the important and most interesting parts of the book. Carl Sagan himself starred in and narrated all 13 episodes, coining a recognizable method of describing large quantities, that is, “billions and billions.”
While Cosmos was a brilliant display of Sagan’s knowledge and his ability to place it within the public realm, his true passion lay within astronomy, as is revealed in the second book formerly mentioned, Contact. This work delved into the unknown, hypothesizing the consequences of an alien message received by Americans. These ramifications included religious outcries, political and economic issues, and of course, the mathematics behind all astronomy and astrophysics. For me, it was reading this book at the age of 13 that made me want to study higher mathematics. One of the main principles included in Contact is that the message received came in the form of prime numbers, such numbers never occurring naturally by any phenomena. This idea struck my fancy and hooked me into mathematics. Like Cosmos, this book was also made into a major motion picture starring Jodie Foster and Matthew McConaughey. Although Sagan died during the production of this movie, his work was carried out by his longtime spouse and friend, Ann Druyan, to whom he credits much of his work. Once again, Dr. Sagan successfully made his ideals available to the general public.
I call him Dr. Sagan, because he indeed had a Ph.D. as well as having received 22 honorary degrees from colleges and universities across the nation due to his contributions to many different fields of study. While Cosmos and Contact were often peoples’ first tastes of Sagan, he has worked on many more projects. Since the 1950’s, Dr. Sagan was a consultant to NASA, briefing the Apollo astronauts and experimenting on such space craft such as the Mariner, Viking, Voyager, and Galileo. Indeed, many facts that almost everyone learns in early schooling regarding characteristics of planets were discovered by Carl Sagan. For example, it was he that recognized that the extremely high climate on Venus is in fact due to the acute greenhouse effect, very similar in principle to that on Earth. He also realized that the seasons on Mars were due to dust blowing, and that Titan (a moon of Saturn) houses organic molecules.
At the time of his death, Sagan was working at the Laboratory for Planetary Studies, based at Cornell University, as the David Duncan professor of Astronomy and Space Sciences. However, aside from this prestigious position, he twice earned Distinguished Public Services medal, the Apollo Achievement award, and the medal for Exceptional Scientific Achievement, all from NASA. The National Academy of Sciences awarded Sagan their highest honor: The Public Welfare Medal. According to this bureau, “Carl Sagan has been enormously successful in communicating the wonder and importance of science. His ability to capture the imagination of millions and to explain difficult concepts in understandable terms is a magnificent achievement.” Sagan was the President of the Planetary Society, which is the largest space-public-interest group. He has an Asteroid 2709 Sagan named after him as well as the landing site for the Pathfinder on Mars, he was awarded the Konstantin Tsiolkovsky Medal from the Soviet Cosmonauts Federation and he received the John F. Kennedy Astronautics Award from the American Astronautical Society. Sagan was the Chairman of the Division of Planetary Sciences of the American Astronomical Society, and chairman of the Astronomy Section of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. He also was President of the Planetology section of the American Geophysical Union. While most of these awards and honors seem to center around astronomy, he was received awards and accreditation for his research on the consequences of nuclear war, and is given credit to helping reverse the nuclear arms race. He left the legacy of the Carl Sagan Foundation, which strives toward continuing public science-education on the entire planet. Not only does this foundation preach the merits of science, but it also reminds the people of the dangers of misuse of technologies. Sagan always had very extreme beliefs that science could not give all the answers. Indeed, he was quoted widely for saying, “Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.”
Sagan was always very interested in the question of whether or not there is life in the Universe. In fact, he was such a public figure in this area, that on his birthday in 2001, NASA dedicated the Ames Research Center’s site for the Carl Sagan Center for the Study of Life in the Cosmos. He studied the famous Drake Equation, which states that the number of advanced civilizations in the Universe with which communication is possible (N) is equal to the rate of star formation in the galaxy times the fraction of stars with planets times the average number of planets that can support life per star times the fraction of these planets that develop life at some point times the fraction of THOSE planets that develop intelligent life at some point times the fraction of civilizations that become technologically advanced enough to release detectable signs of their existence into space times the length of time these civilizations send signals into space. These values, while educated guesses, are merely guesses. The figures of each parameter have been changed and recalculated many times, and currently the value for N is .0000001. From a mathematical and hypothetical point of view, should any of these values be 0, N would be 0, proving there to be no life in the universe. However, that is assuming his equation to be accurate which no one can know. Regardless, Sagan was an advocate of it’s accuracy, but he recognized the Fermi Paradox, stating that while the Drake equation guarantees extraterrestrial life, there is an extreme lack of evidence for it. Using these facts and hypotheses, Sagan believed that all life forms have a tendency to destroy themselves. Thus originated his interest and research on the long-term consequences of a nuclear holocaust.
While Sagan popularized the ideas of alien intelligence, he didn’t, ironically, believe that “UFO’s” were signs of intelligence, or even real. However, he made popular the Bussard Ramjet as a way of showing the total uncertainty of the entire extraterrestrial life situation. The Bussard Ramjet is a hypothesized space craft of the 1960’s which worked upon the principle of compressing hydrogen from surrounding interstellar medium and fusing it, using the remains as the exhaust of a rocket and a means of acceleration. While this vehicle is far-fetched and highly advanced, Sagan used it to note that one could feasibly travel celestially without violating the physical constraints of the universe. Sagan quoted, “"I believe the numbers work out in such a way that UFO's as interstellar vehicles are extremely unlikely, but I think it is an equally bad mistake to say that interstellar space flight is impossible."
Carl Sagan died of pneumonia in 1996, after going through highly advanced medical procedures for months. He had a severe blood disease, often called pre-lukemia, that makes the body more susceptible to infections. He received such break-through health care only because he had made such a name for himself, and this troubled him. Thus, once of his legacies is The Carl Sagan Discovery Center, built with the cooperation of the Children’s Health Fund. It is dedicated to providing health care regardless of financial status. This center incorporates the most recent technology to make sure that children receive top notch health care.
Another one of his legacies, the one that supports the Discovery Center, is the Carl Sagan foundation, which strives to teach young people using the best science and technology. Sagan always wanted to make sure children had the opportunity to learn about the natural world, and this nonprofit organization in Sagan’s name assures that public science education continues.
Carl Sagan chose to preface a chapter in his book Contact with a quote by Vincent Van Gogh. I choose to end with it. “Looking at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots representing towns and villages on a map. Why, I ask myself, shouldn't the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France?” This was Carl Sagan’s driving question, and perhaps the question that makes his ideas so appealing to the rest of us.

Thank you for reading this account. Viszontlátásra!

I am now an alumnus of Budapest Semesters in Mathematics. I can't believe I made it! Today was the farewell party. It was a lot of fun, and it was really nice to have a chance to thank my teachers. We took a group picture, which appears above/over/under the text (I'm not really sure how it's going to be formatted). It's most of the students and some of the teachers. Tonight we're going out to dinner with one of our favorite teachers and one of the most charismatic people I have ever met. We received our transcripts, and I am very happy with the results. I worked hard, and there are lots of very smart kids with whom to compete. While I didn't take the hardest classes, or the most classes, I took what worked for me and it paid off hugely.

We are revisiting all of our favorite things and trying to relive the honeymoon period of the language school. It's really fun, but also bittersweet because so many people are leaving, one by one. I don't leave until early morning on the 29th, but it's hard to watch the people with whom I became so close so fast, disappear. Tomorrow I am going to revisit the baths for one last relaxing afternoon, and then my roommates and I are going to go to the first restaurant we ever visited in Budapest. It's only fitting that our first dining experience together should be our last since we bonded so much during that first hour.

In the past week I have been very cultured. I went to the Opera House to see The Marriage of Figaro. I paid a bit extra for better seats, so while I wasn't lucky enough to get a box seat this time, I did get a front row seat in the middle of the balcony, so I could lean forward on my elbows. This was merciful as the opera was almost four hours long. It was absolutely gorgeous, but it was entirely in Italian with Hungarian subtitles being broadcasted above the stage. Neither language is a strong point in my repertoir of skills. However, I was mostly able to figure out what was going on... like when a lady came out in a wedding dress, I perceived that perhaps someone must have gotten married. It was definitley too long, but very good. I'm astounded that humans can make such beautiful noises with their throats. Two days ago I revisted the Opera House for a Budapest Philharmonic Symphony Concert. It was very near to heaven for me, because they played three pieces: Scheherezade, Night on Bald Mountain, and the Firebird Suite. The accoustics are brilliant in the Opera House... a person could stand on stage and whisper, and it would be heard in the balconies. While I'm not too familier and fond of Scheherezade, it was stunning listening to Firebird and Night on Bald Mountain. When I was in orchestra, I played this latter piece, so I really enjoyed hearing it by a professional orchestra. The Firebird is probably my favorite classical piece of all time. As a former French Horn player, it only makes sense that I should like that orchestration, even if I never particularly enjoyed or excelled at instrument. The gentleman playing the solos, however, was just fantastic. The conducter, who was a tiny Asian man conducting without any music in front of him and leaping around when he got really into it, was given flowers at the conclusion of the concert. He plucked one out and gave it to the first violinist who played the really phenomenal solos in Scheherezade. The rest of the bouquet he hurled to the French Horn player. It was really quite sweet. But I tell you, there is nothing like hearing the finale of The Firebird live.

If any readers need anything from Budapest, let me know and I'll be happy to bring it home. Sziastok! (Hungarian was of saying a bit of a casual goodbye)

Rubik's Cube and Languages

I recently purchased a mini-rubik's cube for my key chain. Since Rubik himself was/is Hungarian, and he invented the "Magic Cube," as it was originally named, in Budapest, I felt that, Westernized or not, I couldn't leave Hungary without one. I've never been much good at solving them. I find myself happily spinning them, hoping that a solution will suddenly occur. This is ridiculous since there are over 43,000,000,000,000,000,000 total permutations of the cube. Now, I've had this cube for three days, two of them being class days. In these two days, I've had two different people say, "here, let me see that" and fiddle with it for a minute or so, and then hand it back completed. ..... I found myself wondering where in the world would this ever occur, having my cube solved by two different people in two days. But then I remembered I'm in a math program, so suddenly this all made sense. There are some very very very smart people with whom I'm rubbing shoulders.

I'm about to use the second Lord of the Rings reference in two consecutive posts... Perhaps I need to get a life? But anyway, I was happily reading The Two Towers the other night, and I noticed a reference to the appendices. Like a good Tolkien fan, I followed the asterisk and flipped back to Appendix F and found the section to which the author was alluding. It was in regards to the language of Entish. It was described as, "slow, sonorous, agglomerated, repetitive, indeed long-winded; formed of a multiplicity of vowel-shades and distinctions of tone and quantity which even the loremasters of the Eldar had not attempted to represent in writing." I THOUGHT OF HUNGARIAN! I think from now on, I'll just tell people that I'm learning Entish, rather than Hungarian. Actually I'm speaking in jest. I was writing an e-mail to a friend from Budapest, and I recounted my reaction to hearing English on the street. I wasn't expecting to hear any English in the part of town through which I was walking, and so when two Americans passed by me (talking loudly and gaudily, I might add) I was quite taken aback. What I noticed, however, was that all I could hear was the dramatic "eeeer's" and "orrrrr's." It sounded very ugly! Now, I wouldn't characterize Hungarian as a romantic, beautiful language, such as French or Italian, but it is definitely very fluid with a lot of soft sounds. It's very relaxing to listen to Hungarian, or really any foreign language, but for the first time, I realized perhaps not all nationalities feel the same about English. In any case, I thought the line describing Entish was a funny way to think of Hungarian.
Although, to set one fact straight, there is very little repetition in Hungarian, and in fact one of the techniques we were taught in my class was to reduce unnecessary repetition using all manners of suffixes and prefixes.

Today I had my last class with BSM. Now for finals! I'm concerned about my Combinatorics final, because it's cumulative, and while I really like graph theory, basic enumeration completely eludes me. I'm in for a fantastic weekend of trying to apply the binomial theorem to going to a flower shop and buying 4 roses, 5 tulips, and 6 daisies, all in a specific order.

My Number Theory final is all on Diophantine equations. Those are basically equations without solutions, and it's our job to prove that they indeed don't have solutions. Non-math people, I'm sorry, just bear with me. I think it's cool, but I suppose it sounds like a mildly rhetorical technique.

In Elementary Problem Solving, my final is cumulative, but it'll be fun! Strangely enough, I have found a sudden interest in Game Theory (or the Theory of Gaming... I'm not really sure of the difference). Before, I thought it was pretty pointless, but then I got introduced to a technique using the Grundy Numbers, which I have never studied before. It basically involves assigning a number to each possibility in a game (using a basic algorithm) and then converting these numbers to base 2 (binary) and working with them, yielding a winning strategy. I'd like to take Computer Science 1 again, and use this strategy in our lab on NIM. I expect this would have yielded a better grade than my guess-and-check strategy I hypothesized. However, I am sad to admit that I got a point off on my last test because I asserted that 3^2=6. My brilliance sometimes amazes me.

Anyway, I hope everyone is enjoying the fabulous weather, and good luck on any springtime finals or projects, or whatever grown-ups do in the real world!

Pálinka Festival

Yesterday was the annual Budapest Pálinka Festival. It's a common misapprehension that Unicum is the national drink of Hungary. In reality, it's the fruit brandy called Pálinka. This brandy is double distilled and made from a wide variety of fruits and berries, most typically Plums and Apricots. This festival was happening right next to another street festival which I was attending. This latter festival was very strange in that while it was called "Utcafesztival" which literally translates to "street festival", it was more like a rally for the European Union. Each booth was dedicated to some aspect of the E.U. I'm not entirely sure what it was all about... but it definitely had a different feel than any sort of festival in America. I got to listen to the Hungarian version of “American Idol” sing. Anyway, being that I was already in the area with a friend of mine, and most of our friends were out of town, we thought we'd dive into this Pálinka festival. There was an entry fee, but you got a tasting glass and voucher for 500 forints which could be used at any booth. Each mini-shop represented a different brand of brandy (alliteration totally intentional) and by exchanging the appropriate amount of money via coupons, you were given a sample of their stock. It was a really neat atmosphere. There was a gypsy band playing, and there were lots of lanterns and benches since it was entirely outdoors. Pálinka has been an important part of the Hungarian culture, so it had a really authentic feel to it. However, the liquor itself was not for the weak-hearted. Any readers of Lord of the Rings will recall a certain spirit given to Merry and Pippin by the Orcs to keep them, cruelly, on their feet. Such was the feeling I got from Pálinka. It was brutally strong; after the first couple of sips my gums were numb and my lips were tingly and felt swollen to the size of a small automobile. To make matters worse, the festival was held on an old cobblestone surface. I have trouble walking on such flooring under the best of circumstances, but in the dark with throngs of people milling around me, trying to balance a small glass goblet, and drink out of it without looking too disgusted by the whole ordeal, I was challenged to stay on my feet. After not too long, the worst happened. My flip-flop caught on the side of one of the protruding stones and I tripped a bit. In an effort to keep my balance, I took a lunging step forward. However, this proved problematic as my foot landed at a spot that was half stone, and half sand, with the two surfaces being dramatically uneven. Thus, before I knew what was happening, I found myself careening madly toward a large group of handsome, swarthy gentlemen, ending up in the arms of one of them, dripping with brandy. The people around me looked at me with an array of expressions. Most of them were obviously disgusted with the American girl who proved to be extremely inebriated at 8 pm. However, the man in whose arms I was tangled seemed impressed. I righted myself with as much dignity as possible, and smelling strongly like spirits, I left the area of my immediate circumstances, clutched onto my friend for moral support (much to his disdain), and, tripping once again, found my way to a stand to get a refill on my nearly untouched glass. Somehow I wasn't quite in the mood to continue into a long night of brandy, and thus after about half an hour, convinced my friend to leave, and we played chess. This was my eventful Saturday night.

Szeged and a homecoming

Last weekend my Historical Aspects of Mathematics class took a trip to Szeged, Hungary. It was a 3 hour train ride, and it was spent in good company so that part was fun. The town itself is beautiful. It is currently known for the huge and prestigious university at the core of the city. Earlier in history, however, it played a much more important role, being mentioned by Ptolemy in his writings, and perhaps even the home to Atilla the Hun's quarters. Little of these relics remain in memory or as artifacts due to a devastating flood in the 1800's. There are markings measuring the level of the water, and at the river, it was something like 11 meters in depth. The city was rebuilt and it’s very pretty.

My professor, Dr. Andras Ringler, is a man of some importance in the town, being the head of the University of Szeged's physics department. He's a brilliant man, and strangely enough, worked for the Mayo Clinic for two years. My hometown is very near Rochester, Minnesota, where this famous clinic was founded. My teacher was thrilled that I knew his former home-away-from-home. Anyway, we got a super tour of the city. We visited several churches, including one that was home to about 30 HUGE manuscripts filled with biblical texts handwritten in ancient Russian characters. We were allowed to flip through them to our heart's desire. My teacher also got us a tour in Europe's second-largest Synagogue. It was a Saturday, and Synagogues are never open to the public on Saturdays and so my teacher made a call to one of his colleagues who met us and opened up the gates for us and gave us a tour, translated by my teacher. It was really pretty. It was very interesting looking at stained-glass that wasn't Christian in nature. I live next to the biggest Synagogue in Europe, and I still haven't toured it, so it was a new experience for me.

Another thing that stood out to me is the fountain we visited. It was comprised of four taps, each constantly running thermal water. The water came directly from 150 feet below us, and smelled of sulfur, and was hot to the touch. Townsfolk lined up to fill their water bottles with this water to take home. We were encouraged to drink it because of its ancient healing properties, and also because drinking warm water is more hydrating.... or something. Physiology is not the high point of my studies. Anyway, it was really magical. And strangely enough, it tasted rather like Minnesota well-water.


In order to minimize reverse culture shock, we are encouraged to make a list of things that we miss from America, to make us forget what we're leaving, and look forward to what we've missed. My friends and I came up with a list, and this is part of it:
*Family and friends
*breakfast foods
*clothes dryers
*convenient internet access
*friendly people
*gyms and places to work out that are not sketchy or overly expensive
*laws maintaining quiet on the streets
*refrigerated milk (and, come to think of it, SKIM milk)
*coffee in larger sizes and alcohol in smaller sizes.
*American books and magazines
*driving
*beds with springs
*libraries for reading and studying that are open late enough to fit our sleepless schedules
*fire standards (fire alarms in our apartments and multiple entrances)
*cell phone plans (not prepaid)
*clean streets (as a side note, all the trash mentioned in my earlier blog was on the street for about 36 hours then just disappeared. But still, gross
*pedestrians getting the right-of-way in the streets
*movie theaters that are easily accessible and playing movies guaranteed to be in English
*Mexican food
*TARGET
*grocery stores that are open 7 days a week and until later than 7pm.

I'm sure there are more things America offers that I'm missing. However, it's good to keep these things in mind so that leaving won't be as hard.
Happy May 10th!

Why Eastern Europe has a poor connotation

Of late, I have been feeling more and more at home with Eastern Europe. I have gotten used to the weird things, and now they seem normal to me. Eastern Europe is thought of as being dirty, uneducated, primitive, and Communist. However, even at the beginning of my stay here, I was never floored by these observations. Indeed, I found it highly superior to the United States in many ways. True, there are bullet holes on the facade of my building, and if a fire marshal exists, his rules are lax, but nonetheless, I enjoyed the truly different environment. However, beginning last night, I suddenly became revolted by a citywide tradition. Once a year, the city proclaims a day during which everyone can literally throw their trash and unwanted belongings onto the sidewalk. Apparently the city looks forward to this event because they don't have to pay for waste removal, and it's also an opportunity to pick up some free, second hand items, as it is perfectly acceptable, and indeed encouraged, to rummage through the piles in search of desired items. According to my Hungarian teacher, the city keeps this day secret so that people will not start putting their trash outside too early, and only on the eve of the event is the nature of the next day revealed. Well last night was this infamous "eve." Initially I thought some people in my building were moving out, but as the night arrived, I realized that all up and down our street, piles of things were beginning to accumulate. By this morning, directly outside our exterior door to the apartment, there was a pile at least 15 feet long, and waist high. It wasn't garage-sale-esque, rather, it was filth. There were some clothes, but mostly it was decrepit furniture, stained bedding, dirt, old sponges and rags, Communist-style shoes, and what appeared to be several broken mirrors. It was vile. It still is vile. In order to leave our apartment, we have to walk through the edges of this purgatory, stepping from pieces of dirty cardboard to cardboard, avoiding the shards of glass. I love Europe, I love Budapest, but this is a repulsive tradition that I feel is both unsafe, and does nothing to change the image of the countries formerly under the Communist regime. Suddenly homeless people and beggars have showed up in my neighborhood, looting through the junk, and while these are common people to see around Budapest, I am not okay with having them outside my door. If I spoke Hungarian I would write a very strongly-worded letter to some figure of authority. As I am leaving in less than a month, and my Hungarian is limited to the bare basics, I will content myself with ranting on this blog. In conclusion, I love Hungary, but I could do without these cave-man tendencies.

Split, Croatia

About three hours ago I arrived back in Budapest from my long weekend spent in Split, Croatia. A couple of times each year, according to Hungarian tradition, there are official four-day weekends. These happen in concurrence with various European holidays. Today, Tuesday, is a labor-related holiday akin to our "Labor Day." The government gives its people Monday off, and a couple of weeks prior "moves" Monday to a Saturday to make up for the freebie given later. In any case, this long weekend found me in Split, Croatia with three boys from my program. The journey began with a 17 hour train ride. The first eight and a half hours of it was boring and slightly uncomfortable, but pretty entertaining. The trains in Europe have compartments, similar to those featured in the Harry Potter movies. Thus you are allowed a bit of privacy, except when the train fills up and strangers join you. Regardless, it was fine. We had to transfer trains in Zagreb, Croatia. We got there about 20 minutes before the train was scheduled to leave, so we hurried to make arrangements for getting a sleeper car to ease the rest of the journey. We asked various conductors, who told us to go to the ticket booth (which was closed) before we figured out which one the sleeping car was, and asked the attendant for that car. He didn't speak any English, but when we got our point across to him, he muttered, "Nein", which I can only assume means "no" in Croatian. Thus, we spent the night crammed in uncomfortable compartments attempting to sleep upright. However, it was all made worthwhile when we arrived at our destination at 7 am. The city of Split is comprised entirely of beaches and harbors. It is known as being one of the cities with the most sunlight overall throughout the year. We dropped our baggage off and explored a bit, discovering a lovely sandy beach flanked by rockier terrain and bars that sat along the waterfront. We climbed along the rocks and enjoyed the view, which was only flawed for a moment by a brief encounter with an older gentleman sunbathing in the nude in a hidden crevice of the rocks. When the time was right we changed into swimming suits and found our way back to this magical place. This sandy beach was very clean and the water was shallow very far out. It was around 80 degrees with no breeze and not a single cloud the entire weekend. The water was not warm, but it was very pleasant once we got used to it. When I was four years old I went to the ocean, very little of which I remember. While Croatia is situated on the Adriatic Sea, it is more or less oceanic, and for the first time I tasted natural salt water and saw a tide. It was a beautiful experience. That first day we spent a couple hours laying on fluffy towels in the sun, and we all fell asleep for a while. When we rousted ourselves and made it back to our hostel, we showered off the salt residue and explored the city. We made our way back down to the beach to see what the nightlife afforded.

Along the beach there are countless little bars and clubs, as well as ice cream stands, hot dog joints, and miniature theme parks for children. We wandered along until we found a peaceful place that appealed. Like all the bars, it had entirely outdoor seating, most of which was in the form of wicker chairs or park swings near low tables. If there is any wild clubbing scenes in Croatia, (which, judging by the looks of the people sunbathing on the beach, there certainly is) we didn't find it, and we were perfectly content sitting for hours sipping on drinks and alternating between relaxed silences and laughing at each other. Days in the sun are tiring, however, as are night-long train rides, so we hit the hay early on.

The next day began with more sunbathing. In the shallow water, on the soft, flat sand, there were perhaps a dozen groups of guys, from chiseled young men to wrinkly old fellows playing some type of game with small rubber balls. As far as I could tell, the point was to smack the ball at each other trying to keep it aloft. This process involved many leaps and grunts from the men, especially the younger ones, as they hurled themselves after the diminutive ball and ending up face first in the water. If they were successful in hitting the ball, they got up dripping and flexing. If they failed their buddies laughed at them (and so did I). In any case, the guys I was with felt sub-masculine without being part of this game, so they searched Croatia over to find a ball and played for hours, giving me some much needed girl-time laying in the sun.

Later that day we climbed to the top of a "hill" to explore a "park." This is what I was TOLD we were doing, and as such, 3 pm found me scaling up the side of a mountain trying to reach a flagpole at the top. The road was apparently too easy, so the boys insisted on going, literally, up the side of this "hill." Thus, in my pretty pink top and sparkly pink flip flops I grouchily found myself in the midst of thorns and tangles while the boys played Crocodile Hunter meets Frodo Baggins. After this exhausting escapade (during which I insisted, using rather strong language, that we must find the road or else suffer the wrath of Betsy) we found ourselves at the top, and I can't even explain the view. It was fantastic. Thus, I posted a bunch of pictures on my picture web site in the album labeled Split, Croatia.

The next day we explored the Diocletian Palace. It was built in something like 295 AD and is one of the best preserved relics of Roman architecture (or so says wikipedia). It was mostly converted into shops, and it was pretty small, but still, being around old buildings is cool.

On the way back we succeeded in getting a sleeper car. That seemed to shorten the journey a lot. Now, back in Budapest everything seems smelly and dark compared to the Adriatic. I suppose that is to be expected. My advice for all travelers is to find your way to Split, Croatia, just for the joy of the cheap souvenirs and laying on the blue blue water.

Look at my pictures!

Romeo es Julia

On Friday I saw the ballet Romeo and Juliet. Since it was put on by the Hungarian National Ballet (and being that I am in Hungary) the translation of the title is Romeo es Julia, (probably plus some accent marks and umlauts that make it incomprehensible.) It was really fantastic. I decided to splurge on tickets, spending around 15 dollars, rather than my usual 2 dollars. The 2 dollar tickets are perfect for philharmonic concerts and such because they are labeled "restricted viewing". Now, this is a stretch, because last time I saw a concert I was only able to see the large string basses, and anyone who took high school orchestra realizes that these instruments are not placed anywhere near the center of the stage. Thus, by restricted view, they generally mean, "approximately 5% of the stage can be easily seen". Another downside of the 2 dollar tickets is that you are not allowed to use the main doors. You are directed to a side entrance and ushered up what seems like thousands of concrete stairs before being forced to check your coat and pointed a seat that is at an elevation approximate to that of Mount Olympus. In any case, being that I love Romeo and Juliet, I thought 15 dollars was a cheap price to pay. What I didn't realize, is that with this mere sum, you were considered a real person, allowed to use the main door. Instead of the bleak concrete steps, you walked on a plush red velvet carpet up to the second level. The stairs looked rather what Cinderella's castle may be like on the inside, with chandeliers and murals on the ceilings, and intricate carvings decorating every point on the wall. At the second level you could enter a side room and buy a huge selection of delicacies, from pastries to good wines, all at very decent prices. As I wandered around with my Coca Cola Light, (even while I was mingling with the sophisticated, it can't be denied that I still prefer a good soft drink to any wine) I found myself on a grand balcony over looking Andrassy, one of the main streets in Budapest. I thought that this balcony was only for decoration. I guess not. When it came time to find my seats (I had really no idea where they were being that the ticket was in Hungarian and my directional knowledge is limited to 'right' and 'left') imagine my surprise when I was ushered through velvet walls to a box! There are three tiers of boxed seats in the opera house. I was on the top tier of them, directly in the middle. The compartment was decorated with mirrors and had red velvet chairs. The usher took my jacket and hung it on the wall for me and offered me a program. I was the first person to arrive in the box, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my apparel. I was wearing a casual-yet-pretty linen skirt and a nice top: clothing that would have been borderline overly formal for the nosebleed seats. However, when 6 people joined me in the box, and all of them were wearing tuxes or ball gowns, my fears were realized. I buried myself in my program to escape any questions, when I realized the program was entirely in Hungarian! Ah, I would be inconspicuous if I just continued "reading" the program, thus avoiding any conversation as well as not making it obvious that I was an American. I began to think of myself as a sophisticated Hungarian student whose very rich Hungarian parents sent to the ballet for the evening. However, a gentleman, noticing my interest in the Hungarian program, leaned over and started jabbering away in a language that sounded like something from Star Wars. Alas! My Hungarian cover was dissolving! What to do? I smiled and replied, "Igen," the Hungarian word for "yes." The man looked at me like I was crazy. Who knows what he initially asked that the reply could not have been affirmative. Maybe he asked what my name was, or what I thought of ballet, but in any case, I failed at my Hungarian alias, and the tuxedoed man ignored me. Whew. But anyway, the ballet was beautiful, the music beautiful, and although it was over 3 hours long with two intermissions, it felt like I blinked my eyes and it was done.

I have a second midterm in my Number Theory class on Thursday. I still am lost with the concept of arithmetic functions. It's not that I don't understand them, I just am incapable of figuring out how they might be important to my life. I told my teacher I didn't like them, and he said, "me neither, they are boring." At least I have affirmation that they suck. However, I LOVE the concept of Quadratic Residues. The proof of why the product of two primitive roots isn't a primitive root can be done in 3 lines using quadratic residues, and is just sooo pretty. However, I still will be spending the better part of my next three days studying.

In Combinatorics we're studying Graph Theory. I like it a lot. It's so applicable to every day life, and usually problems can be solved by contradiction: my favorite technique. Sometimes it's tricky figuring out precisely what the question is asking, but in general, it is WAY better than sampling combinatorial problems. Ick.

In Elementary Problem solving I have two different teachers, and so get exposed to SO much material. In my Monday class we're studying vectors. However, we don't translate these vectors into matrices, or use any linear algebra, rather, we're studying their properties in terms of strict geometry. I like it. On Wednesday we're doing a unit on game theory. I don't really like game theory, just because I find it so bland. It's problems like, "If we have a chessboard, and one rook on the chessboard, and we want to move it to the lower left corner, what should be the strategy so that we can always win against our opponent." A) I hate chessboard problems because I feel like it is a bastardization of my beloved chess, and B) seriously, who cares? But, still, I'm learning a lot.

In my History of Math class we will be traveling to the village of Szeged in rural Hungary where a lot of authentic Hungarian culture is preserved. I guess there's a university there that's really well renowned, and at which my teacher is a professor. We'll be visiting that college, as well as must-see Hungarian relics. I'm very excited!

In Hungarian, we are preparing for a bit of a scavenger hunt. My teacher will give us directions (in Hungarian) as to where he will be waiting for us, and apparently it will require us to take a lot of public transportation to find, therefore it's a bit of a test of our knowledge on Hungarian streets and methods of transportation. When we find him, we get to sit and drink tea and eat pastries and hang out in the Buda Hills for a while. It will be very nice.

That is my update on my life. I come back to America in a little over a month, and while I'm very reluctant to leave this place that I adore, I'm very excited to see my family and friends, and be in an English speaking environment.

More recollections from Istanbul and math

First and foremost, I added even more pictures of Istanbul to my picture account. Now, some more random memories of Istanbul:
* They fly the Turkish flag everywhere. They are so proud of that crescent moon and star that the logo decorates most art as well.
* I watched the cartoon Aladdin, and I couldn't help but notice how similar the narrator's actions at the beginning (when he's trying to sell the audience a lamp) are to the behaviors of the vendors in Turkey. Everyone is "my friend." Everything is "very good quality." Everything "will not break." What cracked me up is that the narrator tries to sell a "hookah and coffee-maker, that also makes fries." French fries are practically a food group in Turkey. Who knows how that started. Also, Turkish coffee is famous for a reason. Finally, there are hookahs, or "water pipes" offered to you at every restaurant, coffee shop, or bar.
* I forgot to tell about my experience at the Turkish baths. I went into the infamous baths with the expectation that they would be similar to the hot springs in Budapest: rather like expansive, steamy swimming pools. My, how I was mistaken. Turkish baths aren't bathtubs, they are public saunas where an experienced worker physically bathes you. Upon entering the building (which apparently was centuries old) women were directed one way, men another. From then on, the genders were completely separated. We were each given a locker where we placed our clothing, a thin piece of fabric that we assumed was a towel, and a something scratchy that looked rather like an oven-mitt. We moved through the corridors into a room full of toweled women, one of whom took pity on us and directed us to a side-door. We pushed the heavy flaps aside and entered into a broiling, humid, gigantic sauna. There was a raised marble platform upon which perhaps twenty women lay, mostly in the nude, on the mats that we had assumed were our towels. I understand the European lack of modesty, but this stopped me (momentarily) in my tracks. Anyway, we joined the ladies on the marble platform, which was pleasantly warm and soothing, gradually losing all reticence. As I got over the shock of my immediate situation, I started to notice the ammenities of the circular room in which I lay. There were basins into which running water fell every few feet around the rooms. Occasionally, a woman would stand and reach into the basin to pull out a shallow bowl, fill it with water, and pour it over herself. Anyway, the purpose of laying on this platform was literally to sweat out all the toxins in your body. After a while, a large, motherly woman would beckon you over to lie at the side of the platform. She first drenched you with water, and proceeded to vigorously scrub your entire body with the rough oven-mitt I mentioned earlier. Watching, I saw dead skin just peel away, taking the sweat and dirt from my pores with it. It almost hurt, but it was so satisfying it felt amazing. When you were absolutely smooth, you layed back down, and the lady took a huge basin of soapy water, filled some sort of enormous, bloated cloth with suds, and soaped you down. What proceeded was a washing of the body, but really it was more of a massage. It was the most decadent feeling of my life. After about 15 minutes of this soapy bath, they poured a pitcher of water on you to rinse the suds, and then took you to one of the basins of running water, where you sat as they shampooed and rinsed your hair. You were treated to one last thorough drenching before you were led to a slightly cooler room to drink tea, wrapped in cozy towels, and marvel at how you've never felt cleaner. The whole experience sounds simply weird in many ways, yet apparently the Turks used to rely on these public bathhouses to stay clean, and this is just an age-old tradition. Regardless, after shedding modesty, it was the most relaxing hour I can recall.

Now that I'm back to the routine of school, I thought I should give an update on how classes are going. I'm still in my five classes: Elementary Problem Solving, Combinatorics, Number Theory, Historical Aspects of Mathematics, and Intermediate Hungarian.

Problem solving is amazing. I have never been introduced to so many super topics in such an interesting and condensed manner. However, tomorrow I have a test/quiz on geometric inequalities and combinatorial set theory. I've been preparing for it for a couple of hours and feel generally pretty good. The trick to solving a geometric inequality is usually to use the triangle inequality, which is very easy.

My midterm in Combinatorics did not go well for me. However, the entire class did miserably on it, so at least I wasn't alone in my ignorance. It was just a poorly written test. After the midterm, we did a short session on the Catalan Numbers. I hate them. I can't explain why. It's the same unexplainable hatred I have for Dihedral groups. They're nice and pretty, yet I despise them. Thank goodness we're into the Principle of Inclusion and Exclusion, and moving on to Graph Theory. That stuff's all pretty interesting.

Number Theory is still brilliant. I love my teacher, and we're studying primitive roots. My teacher is always saying, "order is the soul of everything," and I'm starting to believe him. I like order better in this context than in group theory. It's prettier. I also was very happy with my midterm.

Historical Aspects of Mathematics is still very interesting but very long. I'm preparing for my final presentation, and I'm planning on speaking about Carl Sagan and his achievements as a pioneer in modern astronomy, as well as what makes him my personal hero.

Intermediate Hungarian is.... well.... it's Hungarian. Let us recall that Hungarian has 14 vowels, the word order doesn't have a set formula, there are more irregular verbs than not, and the conjugation of the verb depends on the number of a's u's and o's (plus the accents and strokes) verses the number of e's, and i's could go either way. UG. I'm getting better at the language, more because of immersion than anything else. The past two months I have successfully gotten a new metro pass speaking entirely in Hungarian. I also can order in restaurants, and exchange pleasantries on the street.

That's all folks.

Istanbul Pictures

I posted pictures on my picture website! They are under the album title "Istanbul" and can be reached at betsyjane.myphotoalbum.com. Keep checking for more as I have time to post them!

Arabian Nights

I'm back from my adventures in Istanbul! The city is, as my mom described, "sticky with history." What follows is hopefully a comprehensive account of my recent escapades.

The first couple of days I have already described in my earlier blog post. I saw three main tourist attractions in the first couple of days: The Haggia Sophia (or Aya Sofia to Turks), the Blue Mosque, and the Grand Bazaar. These are amazing, as I have already described. However, another tourism destination is the Topkapi Palace. This is where the various Sultans of the fallen empires resided. While the grounds have been preserved and/or renovated, the treasury of the palace was transformed into a museum of the valuables gathered throughout the days of the Byzantine and Ottoman empires. There was an 86 karat diamond on display, thrones made entirely of gold, studded with huge rubies, pearls, and emeralds, pendants worn by daughters of sultans or given as gifts to tombs that featured emeralds the size of the palm of my hand. What I found interesting about the huge diamond was that after the empire fell, it was found in a rubbish heap by a merchant who in turn sold it for the price of two spoons. Eventually its authenticity was determined and it was placed in the museum. Set aside and out of place was the arm and skull of John the Baptist. I'm not sure how they ended up in a Muslim country such as Istanbul, but it was cool. Further in the depths of the castle there was a sacred room which many Muslims observe as a pilgrimage destination. In it were relics of the Prophet Muhammad, including his seal, a letter written in his hand, hairs from his beard, hairs from his head, and his tooth (these latter parts contained inside magnificent boxes). There was even the original binding of the Qur'an. It was truly chilling. We paid extra to go into the Harem of the palace. It wasn't really that cool, honestly. However, the quarters of the Queen Mother were quite stunning, as was the bedroom of the Sultan.

One day we climbed to the top of the Galata tower. The history of this tower is really amazing. It was built originally for defensive purposes, and changed over the years to suit different armies, and even an astronomer. One of the first men to fly jumped from this tower. He devised a sort of hang-glider and leapt from the top, landing some distance away. He was originally going to be commended by the ruler, but reconsidering, he was deemed a threat to security and executed. Anyway, the view from the top was amazing. We had to cross the bridge to the "new" part of the city to reach this tower. The bridge is a destination for fishermen, and every inch of the side is lined with locals hoping to catch the big one. Near this bridge there is a fish market. I have an extreme fright of fish so I didn't go to this landmark, but apparently you could pick any fish you wanted and they'd fry it for you on the spot. Yuck.

Much cooler than the icky fish was the Spice Bazaar. This place sold mainly spices, teas, and Turkish Delight. There was the occasional vendor who sold henna or Baklava, but mostly there were bins and bins filled with the oranges and browns of spices, and the brilliant colors of the teas. I bought some of my favorite tea I've ever had: some sort of rose hip tea. I think it's actually an instant tea mix mimicking the real tea, but it's what they serve at restaurants and it's absolutely delicious. I also bought some Turkish delight. My mom asked me if it was good enough to sell my soul to the White Witch and betray Narnia (sorry, C. S. Lewis reference) and I think that while it's veeery good, only the Chocolate Turkish Delight would tempt me into the treachery of Edmund Pevensie.

Continuing along the vein of Narnia, anyone who has read the series knows the city of Tashbaan from "The Horse and His Boy." Similarly, readers of "Arabian Nights", or the book "Phantom" can visualize precisely what Istanbul looks like. It's a city built into a hill with Mosques everywhere. Dark skinned vendors spread through the streets calling the merits of their wares. People carry huge trays of bread on their heads past open air markets of huge pears, pomegranites and pineapples. Walking through the streets is like rereading a favorite book.

We took two day trips: one down the Bosphorus strait to a village in Asia, the second to the Princes' islands in the Marmara Sea. The Asian village was beautiful. There were palm trees and grass everywhere with adolescents selling ice-cream at family-owned shops (the father was busy selling his fresh fish). The main attraction of this place was the ruins of a castle at the highest point of land visible. This castle was built during the Byzantine empire and are slowly crumbing down. There's plenty of it left, though, and people are welcome to climb around on it. Should a tourist fall, they would no doubt plummet to their death, but we all helped each other and climbed all over the ruins, taking in the magnificent view of the strait. It was fascinating standing where armored soldiers stood years and years ago, fighting for their lives with medieval weaponry. The second trip we took was to the Princes' Islands, called this because often nobility of sorts were crowned on these Isles. There were no vehicles on the island we toured. There were only bicycles and horse-drawn carriages. We rented bikes for a few Turkish Lira an hour and toured the entire island. This unfortunately involved going uphill for half of the time since we ended up at the top of the island. This particular endeavor left me sweaty, panting, grouchy, and all too aware of my two month hiatus from dancing and being in shape. However, we ate a picnic on a ledge looking over the sea. It took a bit of agility to reach the spot, but after getting there we lay and stared and stared and stared at the view in front of us. It was all green with purple flowers and fuzzy yellow bees zipping around. After resting and eating (and getting magnificently sun burnt) for an hour and a half, we continued on the bike ride, which was, to my intense glee, downhill. On this side of the island we got a view of the sea rather than forestry, so it was hard to watch the road with sparkly water just to the right. We made it back to the ferry and returned to Istanbul. We set off at 9 am and returned at 8pm, when we went right to dinner without even stopping at our rooms. We were all too tired even to eat (well, except for some of the boys, who could eat anything at any time of the day or night) which was a pity because it was a beautiful meal of hummus and eggplant and almond and pistachio and chicken and lamb and..... everything.

Some observations about Turkey:
*There are tulips everywhere. It's beautiful. It's not just a tulip here and there, there are fields of them. I guess this derives from some Sultan who especially liked tulips.
*The olives are really great.
*Everything is made from Pistachio, and nuts are sold on the street at ridiculously cheap prices.
*After finding out we were from America, the first thing Turkish people asked us was simply, "Bush??" If we implied that we didn't like the current status of our government, they laughed, gave us thumbs up, and were very friendly. Americans are obviously not too popular in the Middle East. In fact, to make life easier, when we bartered at the market we often said we were from Canada to avoid any nasty political situation.
*More women had their heads covered than not. However, these women would walk around holding hands with their husbands and kissing the children. I think we often give these Muslim women the stereotypes of being "untouchable." Only a few women (although more than I'm used to seeing) wore full Birkas.
*There is a problem with stray cats and dogs. They are everywhere, although some appear to be tagged, as though the city knows they're out there. It's heartbreaking to see all of them, yet we didn't even pet them because who knows what they pick up on the streets.
*The inequality of the sexes was very apparent. There were never women working in any establishment. Occasionally there would be a woman selling scarves on the street, but there were never women in paid positions. This prejudice was also apparent in the restrooms, where the facilities were merely sanitary holes in the ground.
*The security at Arabic airports is even harsher than in the United States, with several checkpoints, including one before you even enter the main part of the air port.

That's all I have the energy to write at the moment. I will upload pictures soon, but I have been lurking in this tea shop for the better part of two hours, and since it's Easter Sunday I feel like I should leave and maybe let them close up a bit early. I will write a comment as soon as I put pictures up. I have hundreds! Happy Easter!

Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

I'm in Istanbul, Turkey! It is simply fantastic. I don't even know where to begin explaining it. My hostel is situated directly between the Haggia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. The Haggia Sophia is a very famous church. It's design is that of a Mosque, I believe because it was converted to Christianity not long after it's construction. The interior is familiar, yet very different. It looks like a church, but much more Turkish. That sounds so bland and predictable, but it's a very interesting combination of taking crosses and putting them under huge Turkish hieroglyphics painted on the walls. When I have a better, faster internet connection, I'll post pictures of both the exterior and the interior.

The Blue Mosque is much newer, but more fascinating. Everyone has been in a church before, but no many people have been inside one of the most famous mosques in the world. Before entering you have to take off your shoes. Women must cover their heads with scarfs. Entering the mosque, there is a huge area for the men to pray. Off to the side, gated, there is a tiny hut for the women. While this troubles my feminist insticts, I am in their territory and I will respect their culture. The really cool thing about the Muslim religion happens at prayer time. At dawn, sunset, and three other times every day, each mosque (and there are tons and tons of them here) have a singer amplified over the city calling the population to prayer. They sing in an acopela, Turkish style. It's hard to describe unless you hear it. It's like yodeling meets African prayers.

We went to the Grand Bazaar today. It's the largest shopping center in the world. One of our group likened it to the small intestine. The area it takes up is seemingly small until you unravel it. Then it's longer than one would ever suspect. Inside the market they sell scarves, chess and backgammon sets, fake designer purses, Turkish delicacies, Turkish carpets, and many many other things. You have to haggle with the merchants, which is really fun, although mildly stressful. They are very aggressive. They call out to you, "excuse me," and "yes please" to get your attention. They try to usher you inside the shops and show you their wares. I was called the most beautiful lady in Istanbul, a Spice Girl and one of Charlies' Angels in a very short time span. Also, one man tried to sell me a carpet "for my dowry". Yikes! Welcome to Turkey!!

I had Turkish Ravioli yesterday. It was meat-stuffed pasta in a yogurt sauce with chili and garlic. It was really wonderful. Everything ordered here is in "yogurt." It's rather like sour creme, but a little runnier and sweeter. The other day I had chicken shish-kabob. It was really good, although it tasted surprisingly similar to the kebabs my mom makes on her grill. With every mean they give you a sweet white bread that doesn't need any butter. It's delicious.

Everyone is really quite nice here. While some of the time they are only nice in an attempt to sell you something, most of the time they are a genuine group of people who are all too ready to laugh and tease. It's a huge change from the cold Hungarians. It took some getting-used-to, but I think it'll be tough to return to the formality of Budapest.

When I have more time and a better internet connection speed I will post some absolutely fantastic pictures, so stay tuned. I'm here for 6 more days so there will be plenty of adventure to document!

Rendorseg

The most surreal thing happened to me tonight. I was in my apartment with my roommate Kristen, each of us studying in our bedrooms for our Number Theory midterm tomorrow. Suddenly, our doorbell rang. It was quite a shock since we only vaguely realized that we even had a doorbell (our friends don't use it, let alone knock) and certainly we weren't familiar with the sound it makes. We both (eventually) simultaneously came to the conclusion that our mythological doorbell was being utilized, and since it's a bit easier for me to get to the door from my bedroom than it is for Kristen, I approached the entrance. All I could see was a shapeless shadow outside the door since my own reflection was peering brightly back at me. We lock our door when we're inside, just for safety's sake, and I certainly had no plans on unlocking for a faceless silhouette. Thus, I smashed my face up against the window to try to get a better look, and saw a badge reading, "RENDORSEG" glaring back at me. This translates to "police". I hurriedly made to open the door, but forgot that it was locked and made quite a spectacle of myself tugging and fumbling at the handle. When I finally got the door open, the lady police officer said something I didn't quite catch. Humbly I replied, in Hungarian, "I'm sorry, I don't understand, I'm American" (which is one of the most useful phrases I've learned). She looked at me and repeated herself more slowly, only this time I recognized the word Deutsch. Ah! She wanted to know if I spoke German! I hastily cast my mind about, compiling all the German I knew. The list contained two things: "good day", and "where is the library," both phrases I have learned from my mother's high school German schooling, and also the extent of her German vocabulary to date. Thus, I had to admit that I didn't speak German and tried my luck with Spanish. It didn't work. In any case, the Police woman pointed at me and to my roommate who had peered around the corner by this time, and said, "pizza?" At a loss for any better answer, I said, "no." She repeated, "pizza??" in a more prodding tone. Again I replied with my brilliant answer of "no". She looked over the balcony at a tenant who was peering up at us and spoke in Hungarian, obviously explaining that we had not acknowledged the aforementioned pizza. The police officer turned back to me and said, "ok, very sorry" and left. Now, I don't know if we were being asked if we stole a pizza, if the Hungarian police deliver pizza during their downtime, or if there's a Hungarian phrase that sounds like "pizza" but really means, "excuse me, is this your lost dog?" I guess I'll never know.

Prague and Family

Last weekend I traveled via bus to Prague. It was not a comfortable journey, but it was inexpensive and definitely better than an airplane. Ideally we would have had movies playing, but there was something broken.... or something..... In any case, I got a lot of my combinatorics homework done on the ride. We arrived in Prague around midnight, and by 1:00 we still hadn't found our hostel even though we knew that it was somewhere in a radius of about 3 blocks from us. We called a cab which took us about 30 yards, but successfully got us to our lodging and our beds. In my defense, Prague's streets are not user-friendly. The longest straight line in the city is about a block, then the road curves or bends, or just plain ends. The streets are also cobblestone, so we were really obnoxious dragging our wheelie suitcases through these back roads, sounding as though a group of tap dancers were making their way down the streets in the dead of night.

Exploring Prague was very different from anything I'd seen so far. It reminded me of Disney World. Everything was beautiful and larger than life and expensive. The entire city catered toward the tourist industry. There was no authentic Czech culture, just cookie cutter souveneirs and people dressed in costume to make the atmosphere feel authentic. The view from the city is phenomenal, and the architecture is really grand, yet I felt that I could have gotten the same ambiance from a theme park in America. In fact, I heard more English than I do walking down the streets of my hometown.

However, the very good thing about the city is that I got to meet up with my mom and sister! We met at the famous Prague astronomical clock (which is very pretty, yet very anti-climactic). Some friends and I walked around the city with them and soaked up the "culture." My mom bought me a garnet ring. Garnet is huge in Prague. My ring is a very simple but pretty silver setting, and the stone looks black except when it catches the light, then it flashes bright red. It's amazing.

My favorite part about the city was, ironically enough, a church. It was not a tourist trap, rather it was merely a place of worship that had remained standing and un-rennovated. It was the most gothic structure I have ever seen, or even imagined. It had beautiful stain-glass windows, and statues, cherubs, and gargoyles, and paintings so old that they appeared black. There was a statue that my family found extremely moving. I placed pictures of it (and, in fact, the whole tripm in a different album called "Prague" on my picture website). The statue was part of a larger arrangement of statues featuring the typical Christian display of death. However, there was a lady who was positioned over a book, crying. It looked as though she simply couldn't hold her head up she was so torn with grief. I have never seen a statue portray such human feeling as this one did. On closer inspection, she even had stone tears. Aside from these fantastic sculptures and works of art spread throughout the church, there was a continual theme of triangles with eyes inside of them.... symbol of the Free-Masons. Say what you want about Dan Brown and his "conspiracy theories" and ability to write, but as an avid reader of Angels and Demons, I wanted to send a telegram to Dan Brown right then and there, saying, "You're right!" Check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illuminati for a basic explanation of the conspiracy theory involing the freemasons and the Illuminati. The church reeked of history and emotion, and to make the experience even more chilling, the entire time we wandered the space, there was an organist practicing. The organ's pipes spanned a space of about 30 feet, and were almost twice as tall. My mom, as a former organist, hypothesized that there must be 5 or 6 keyboards the musician was using. The organ music made me feel as though I had stepped into some 5th dimension of The Phantom of the Opera, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and The Da Vinci Code. It was really fantastic.

We had beautiful weather, and it was very very very nice to hang out with my family. One of my friends told me that after meeting my mom and sister, I will never be a mystery to her again. True enough, we share a sense of humor that may not be similar to many peoples', but we enjoy each others' company and the laughter it brings. I traveled with them back to Budapest. I hope I was an okay tour guide; unfortunately the approach of midterm exams put a damper on my schedule of free time.

On that note, school is going very well. After doing this semester, I look at courses offered at Gustavus Adolphus, and instead of seeing the course number and title, and thinking, "Oh jeez, that looks so hard and boring," I recognize the concepts discussed and am really mad that I don't have time to take every class offered. Also, after this mathematics program, I will never be intimidated by an upper-level math class again.

Today is the first day of spring. I hope the weather is improving over there in the states! Check out my pictures at http://betsyjane.myphotoalbum.com.

Statue Park and Margit Island

Today I went to Statue Park. Statue Park is one of Hungary's most famous attractions. When all of the tyrannous governments finally fell in Hungary, someone had the bright thought to gather up all the statues and relics of political leaders and tributes to communism, and hide them away for a while so they didn't get destroyed a la The Berlin Wall. When the political realm became calmer, this guy took all these statues and created an outdoor museum open to the publc. For less than five dollars you can climb around on statues of Lenin and Stalin, sit on the feet of huge memorials, and buy CD's of "Hits from Communism". There are lots of red stars everywhere and the statues are laid out mildly helter-skelter. It's quite a process to get to the park as it's located outside of Budapest on the Buda side. We took a round about way and utilized the metro, a tram, and a bus. The bus stops and you step out into a ditch. There is no bus stop or anything defining the place as a public transit line. You traipse through weeds and dirt and emerge at a creepy-looking building. When you go in, all you can see is red stars: watches with red stars, flasks with red stars, post cards with red stars.... This, I found out, is because you actually enter the gift shop before the museum. However, the feeling of unease is heightened by the fact that there are hearty communistic marches being played through the speakers. I posted some new pictures on my picture website of the park. They're much better at explaining the atmosphere than I could ever hope to be.

My other news is that I finally went to Margit Island. This island, named after Saint Margaret, is located in the middle of the Danube, close to the center of the city. It's like a theme park atmosphere! There's a track around the outside which runs around 5 kilometers. Hard-core athletes and social runners alike use this path. Inside the track there's a petting zoo, swimming pools, parks, soccer fields and open areas, little stands that sell hotdogs and mulled wine, and the ruins of the convent where Saint Margaret was sent in the 13th century. The ruins were really cool because they were so authentically old and, well, ruined. I put a couple pictures up of the ruins, as well as of a peacock. In the zoo, there was a large establishment of peacocks, and while most of them had their feathers sedately folded on their backs, there was one zestful male who felt the winds of spring, and thus mating season. He had his plume ravishingly extended. Everytime a female peacock would walk by, he'd shake his feathers until they buzzed and rattled, and sort of arc them around her. It was beautiful, yet a bit silly to watch.

This weekend is a long one for me. There's a holiday on Thursday that is celebrated twice a year here in Hungary, and thus, I don't have school. Unfortunately, last fall when the same holiday was celebrated, the celebrations turned political in nature, and soon turned into riots. It's predicted that the same thing will happen again this time around. Even worse, those riots will be about 4 minutes from me since they're held primarily at Astoria, and I live near there. However, luckily this is the weekend my mom and sister are coming into Prague, so since I have some days off, I'm taking a bus to meet them there! I don't have to be around the riots, thank goodness! In America I might find it interesting to watch a political uproar, but here in Hungary where I really don't know the judicial or legal system, and the only words I recognize are things like, "excuse me," and "apple," it may no be the best idea to become politcally active at this point.

That's about it. Have a great early Daylight Savings Time America!

pictures from poland!

I added new pictures to my picture website. Go to http://betsyjane.myphotoalbum.com and click the album called "Poland".

Krakow

On Thursday evening I took the night train to Krakow, Poland. Krakow has a very long, rich history involving religious strife, war, communism, hardship, all culminating to make a truly amazing city. I don't like Poland as much as I LOVE Budapest. However, it has been a great experience being here.

The night train is really comfortable, provided you get a sleeper car. We had the foresight to pay a bit extra for this amenity and slept many of the hours of the journey away. It is about 10.5 hours via train to Krakow. However, it's fairly inexpensive, and as long as you get to sleep en route, it's a great deal for me. The only hitch in the ordeal was the boarder crossings. I was in a berth with two other girls, happily sleeping in our layered bunks. Someone knocked viciously at the door, and assuming it was our other friends in the berth several doors down, we yelled mildly obscene things regarding their inability to let us sleep in peace. When the knocking didn't desist, and instead became steadily louder, we grumpily flung the door open. Imagine our surprise when in marched several European men in fur hats demanding for our passports! I suppose we should have forseen this mild difficulty, but somehow we didn't think about the fact that we would be passing through Slovakia to get to Poland. Therefore, without this foresight, we were not in an appropriate state of dress for male visitors, and thus followed a series of very awkward encounters, made even more nerve-wracking by the language barrier. To add to the trouble, my sleepy friend tried to be friendly and inquired if we were in Slovenia, which is apparently a far different place than Slovakia and tested the patience of the boarder patrols.

We found our hostel with little difficulty with the help of a cab. Being that we live in Hungary, we're very profficient at sign language and we know to write down words that we'll need and point to them, rather than try to pronounce them. The hostel is called "The Stranger Hostel" and is spectacular. It's sort of like summer camp. Everyone is our age, traveling the world just for the heck of it. The facility was really clean and homey; I would return in a heartbeat. I'm actually currently at the hostel using one of the computers they have available for our use. It's pretty cool.

The first day we were here, we literally explored. We knew nothing of Poland, so we set off into "Old Town" and promptly discovered a fabulous open air market. Everything here is dirt cheap and fantastic. I had a blast shopping and comparing the different stalls. In our explorations, we found or way into a Polish restaurant where I had what seemed to be some sort of potato dumplings in cheese. We explored the castle, which was really cool because it was so old. In fact, that's the neat thing about this entire city. One day we took a guided tour of the city, and when we passed a Synagogue, they said, "the is the newest synagogue, built in the early 19th century." In America, our OLDEST buildings were built around that time. On this guided tour we got to see the Jewish Ghetto and Oskar Schindler's factory. This was really moving at the time, but nothing could prepare me for what I saw today.

We went on a guided tour of Auschwitz and Birkenau, the two most famous concentration camps where over 1.5 million people were murdered. These camps are located about an hour and a half outside of Krakow, and so our hostel arranged a tour for us that included transportation. We started at Auschwitz, which was the original death camp, and the first to employ the use of Cyclone-B, the gas the Nazis sprayed into the gas chambers where all those "unfit for labor" were sent. Those who couldn't handle such work included the elderly, the sick, the crippled, children, and pregnant women. Auschwitz was set up as a bit of a museum, with exhibits in the original barracks. It was astounding. In one of the barracks, there was a display of items confiscated from Jewish prisoners, or taken from the bodies of those put to death. Most of such items were sent to Germany to be sold, and that which remained in the camps, waiting to be shipped, was burned to hide the evidence of the nazi horrors. What remained for us to see was only a tiny fraction of the belongings of prisoners. There were huge rooms stacked with these belongings. There were thousands of toothbrushes, combs, pots and pans, prosthetic limbs, shoes, and eye glasses. There was also a room full of the hair shorn from women. This hair was used to make the blankets given to the Jewish prisoners. Like the rest of the items, the hair was stacked to the ceiling. It gave a horrifying idea of the number of people who died, and suddenly turned anonomous victims into real humans. We were also taken into the one remaining gas chamber and furnace. It was the original chamber made by the nazis. I don't think it takes explaining what that experience was like. We then went to Birkenau, which was made by Auschwitz prisoners because Auschwitz was becoming too small. As far as the eye could see, wooden, uninsulated barrocks lay across the land, or ruins of chimneys standing where barrocks used to be. In the center of this expanse was a rail road where prisoners were unloaded. We stood in the exact place that the Nazi "doctor" stood to make the decision whether each prisoner lived or died.

This was just earlier today that I experienced this, so hopefully I will be able to write another blog more eloquently describing certains horrors and emotions I felt. I wrote an e-mail home, however, and noted that I have an entirely different perspective on history in general, especially the holocaust.

On a happier note, we also toured the church St. Mary's, ate a lot of Polish food, fed really tame pigeons from our hands, experienced the Polish night life, and took loooooots of pictures. As soon as I get back to my computer, I will put these pictures on my picture website. I'm going to make a new album, so therefore these new pictures will not show up on the reel near the top of my blog. You'll have to go to the link on the right side of the page. It will take you directly to the site.

I hope all is well, and I can assure everyone that there is waaaaay too much acordian music in Poland.

Wine Tasting

Hungary is famous for it's wine. They have been creating wines for thousands of years, so they really know what they're doing. http://www.winesofhungary.com/history.htm. Yestery I went to the Hungarian House of Wines to wine taste. It was astounding. It's located in Buda, rather near Fisherman's Bastian. You enter and are greeted by a very distinguished gentleman in a three piece suit. The price for admission is 4000 forints, which is around 20 US dollars. It was worth every penny. With admission you are given a wine glass, a bag of bready croutons that cleanse the pallet, and a map of the wine cellar. You descend some concrete stairs to a well-lit, impeccable basement absolutely filled with wine. There are over 700 varieties to try, with about 60 bottles open at a time. You walk through a labyrinth of passage ways and little caves filled with wine bottles. Whenever you see an open bottle that you'd like to try, you uncork it, and pour as much as you desire into your wine glass. The wines are arranged by region with a mural behind them describing their history and taste in German, Hungarian, and English. I was happily wandering the halls, and I stopped to try a white wine that had an interesting bottle (because, unfortunately, that's as much as I know about the quality of wines). I sipped it, trying my best to look like a connoiseur, and rather vacantly read the history of this particular region. I was startled to realize that the very wine I was drinking used to be drunk on wedding nights to encourage the birth of a male heir. Needless to say, I moved on past this particular exhibit. You are allowed 2 hours in the cellar, but no one really checks up on you, so realistically, you could sample wines for hours at a time. It was a very interesting place to people watch. There were men who looked as if they live in mansions and smoke cigars, but there were also foreigners with backpacks who were thrilled at the "all you can drink in two hours" rule. There were families with mothers carrying young children, holding hands with smiley fathers. There was a bachelorette party getting a guided tour. It was definitely a cross section of the world.

On a vastly different note, we finally have heat and hot water after 5 days of going without it. We noticed one night that we didn't have hot water, so the next morning we called our landlord, who told us that that problem had happened last semester, and gave us a fix for it. We were happy, took showers in peace, and assumed the problem was fixed. Two hours later there was no hot water again, and the fix didn't work; rather it made our hot water heater emit disturbing, sputtering noises. We woke the next morning in frosty conditions. Suddenly, it occurred to us that we hadn't paid our utility bill!! After much deliberation we figured out how much we owed, and ran to the post office (where you pay the bills). We handed the bill to the lady behind the counter, and she started speaking rapid Hungarian and gesticulating madly, waving around a yellow sheet of paper. We assumed that maybe we needed such a piece of paper, so we returned to our apartment, unearthed a yellowish tab, and ran back to the post office. We handed over the money and the yellow sheet, and she returned a receipt. We waited all day in hope that our utilities would come back on. Over 24 hours passed, and still no heat, no hot water. We asked around, and it turns out that there was no way our utilities could be shut off, so something must be broken in our apartment. So, our landlord came over, and indeed, something was very very broken. They sent over a repair man later that night to fix the problem. It turns out that it was a hugely difficult problem dealing with the inner computer (or something like that) so he had to come back the next day with the correct parts. However, the repair man didn't speak a word of English. Of course he picked me to try to talk to about the problem and he waved a wrench around talking sedatly in Hungarian, as if by speaking veeeery slowly I would magically understand the Hungarian words for things like "boiler" and "thermostat." After a phone consultation with our landlord, we arranged that he would stop by the next morning between 9 and 10 to fix the problem. Around 4:00 he finally came. By this time, our apartment was so icy that it was necessary to wear mittens. I was in a fantastic mood all day, as one can easily imagine. In any case, we now have heat, hot water, and apparently a new water boiler.

Happy Heat and Wine!

PS, I added pictures of some of my friends and I at the Hungarian House of Wines.

The "powers" that be...

Is there a power of 2 that contains every digit from 0-9 the same number of times?

Another way of saying it is....

You have an integer in which every digit from 0-9 appears, and each digit appears exactly the same number of times. Is this a power of 2?

This was a question I was given in Number Theory yesterday, and even though it's mildly trivial, for whatever reason, I really enjoyed it. The answer is no... but I'm not going to explain why until later.

I found out yesterday that next year at Gustavus I get to live with one of my very best friends in the newest, nicest dorm on campus. She was given the position of CF (the same thing as an "RA") in the dormitory called Southwest, and she got to choose one person to live with. We each get our own room, but we share a living area. I'm very proud of her for being given this job, because everyone wants to be the CF in Southwest!

In a couple of weeks, my mom and my sister are coming to visit me. They have an itinerary of three cities beginning in Prague. A neat feature of the BSM program is that they incorporate two four-day weekends into the schedule of classes. Unfortunately this means having class on two Saturdays to make up for it, but it is nevertheless really nice. During the first of these four day weekends, my mom and sister are arriving in Prague, and so therefore, I am able to come and meet them! Not only will it give me an opportunity to visit the Czech Republic, but I also get to spend more time with my family! A couple of days later, I will ride a night train back to Budapest with them, and then be able to show them around this fantastic city for about three days. They go on to Vienna, but I can't go with them since I will have class. I'm really excited!!

Either this weekend or next weekend I am going to go to Krakow. Apparently it's just gorgeous. Some students who were here last semester said that it was their favorite destination. I have a sneaking suspicion it will end up being next weekend because more people will be able to go with us. Also, this weekend there is a very reknowned scholar coming to speak to the mathematics students, and we all want to attend his presentation.

One of my favorite places to do homework is a shop called Kom Kom Czokolad. It's a Dutch chocolate shop where they sell truffles and hot chocolate. This hot chocolate is not the awful, watery American stuff. It is literally melted down chocolate. They give you a spoon to help you eat it since it is so thick. They also give you a small glass of water since it is so rich. It is absolutely beyond belief. However, they have huge tables and multiple levels, so it's ideal for spreading out and doing math either alone or with a group.

Now, here way to solve the problem I posed earlier. Take an integer with digits 0-9. It doesn't matter what order they appear because the trick here is to add them up. So you have 1+2+3+...+9+0. This equals 45. If each digit appears more than once, you know that each digit appears exactly the same number of times. Therefore, this summation of the digits can be simply multiplied by a constant, giving k(1+2+3+...+9+0). Regardless of what k is, we know that the number must be divisible by 3, since the sum of the digits is 45, and 45 is divisible by 3. However, by the fundamental theorem of arithmetic, 2^n will never be divisible by three. Basically, this is merely stating that 2 times 2 times 2 times 2.... etc will never be divisible by three since each positive integer has a unique prime factorization, and a power of 2 will therefore never contain a 3 within it's factorization. Thus, we have proved that an integer containing all digits the same number of times will never be a power of two. Like I said earlier, this is pretty trivial.... but I like it!

Happy (Ash) Wednesday!

Last night I went to a movie put on by the BSM program. It was a documentary called "N is a Number" following the life of Pal Erdös, a Hungarian mathematician viewed as a god by the mathematics community, and completely unknown by everyone else. The movie was fascinating! Erdös lived an incredible life, and I'm very disappointed that the world doesn't know more about him. He has done for Mathematics what Newton has done for Physics, however, the general populace doesn't recognize this. I suppose the idea of Newton "discovering" gravity, a force which we all can feel every day, is a lot more palatable to the normal person than Erdös's conjecture of the additive number theory on arithmetic progressions in divergent series. Nonetheless, here is a link to a very good biography of Pal (or Paul) Erdös from wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Erdős. Wikipedia is not a good source for purely credible information, but in a case like this, it's a very useful insight. Also, here is a link for the movie that we watched. I think the Gustavus Math Department should add it to their collection, as it is very very good. http://www.zalafilms.com/films/nisanumber.html.

My classes are simply amazing. I just love Number Theory. It is one of those classes where the answer is always right there, it just takes a flash of light to see it. Sometimes that flash comes after 2 days of work, sometimes after 1 hour. It's an abstract subject, but not nearly as dry as algebra. My teacher actually had lunch with the aforementioned Paul Erdös and he solved one of Erdös's unsolvable problems. I'm in awe.

Combinatorics is really really good. There are two classes offered, Combinatorics A and Combinatorics B. The "A" class moves faster, but I (like the majority of the Combinatorics students) chose to be in the "B" class. I have every ability to be in the faster class, but the fact remains that I can't understand a word of the other professor's English. Oh well, I can't complain as I am in Hungary. My Combinatorics class is really really interesting. However, yesterday we proved the binomial theorem in about 8 different ways. When the professor said, "And now we will prove it using the Taylor Series," I just about vomited. It was interesting, yes, but after the previous 7 proofs displaying the accuracy of the Binomial Theorem, I was simply not interested in the Calculus way of proving it.

Elementary Problem solving is soooo cool. It reminds me a lot of a super J-term class I took called Mathematical Gems. The point of the class is to cultivate logic and train the students to see the less obvious ways of solving obsure math problems. However, they do this by showing us scores of random, absolutely fascinating problems. Remember the trick you learned in 6th grade: if you add up all the digits in the number and that sum is divisible by 9, the number is divisible by 9 (the same with 3). I always thought that was just a bit of a party trick, but nothing more. I have used it countless times in Elementary Problem Solving, and even a couple times in Number Theory. It's amazing what such a trivial shortcut can tell you about the nature of numbers.

The History of Math (or whatever it's called) is mildly boring considering how it's 2.5 hours of straight lecture, but the information is amazing. He really molds the class to the student's interests. The other day he asked if anyone was interested in physics (since studying mathematical history forcesa deviation into physics) and I rather shyly raised my hand, as an interest in physics around mathematicians is often a reason for persecution. He asked me what I was interested in, and I said Astronomy (because I love astronomy more than anything.) He looked at me and said, "Ahh, astronomy. Very good. Today we talk about astronomy. Good?" He is absolutely brilliant, having three Ph.D's and an extra Hungarian title that means he's one of the best scholars. Ask him anything and he'll know the answer.

I went to Intermediate Hungarian Language. I don't like this language at all, but the class will be really really easy, and who knows, maybe I'll learn something along the way.

I decided against topology. I really enjoyed it (sort of) but the teacher didn't work for me, and I had to face the facts, I just don't have the mathematical background for it without a concrete course in Real Analysis.

I went to a store a lot like Walmart that is an English chain. It was wonderful. I found Peanut Butter and flour tortillas. There was one brand of peanut butter, and it took up about a square foot on the shelf. The next aisle over was completely dedicated to cheeses of all different sorts. They really do things differently over here. I love Eastern Europe, but it's tiring needing to go to a million different shops for everything. At this store, they sold shampoo, school supplies, food, books, cameras, silverware.... the works.

Sorry that this was long. I'm just giving an update! Happy Friday!