It hardly seems worthwhile stating to anyone who has spent more than a day in Budapest, that Hungarians don’t smile very much.
They quite likely feel they have very little to smile about. It is January: I find it quite difficult myself to overcome the combined gloom occasioned by the weather, the knowledge that the festivities are over and only work beckons, and the fact that the new year always heralds significant price rises. It is a Hungarian ‘tradition’ that no sooner has the last trumpet blown to sound out the end of the year, than BKV, ELMŰ and FőGáz extinguish any lingering vestiges of joyfulness that may remain from Christmas, announcing increases that would make residents of other countries pale.
Any tentative suggestions on the part of non-Hungarians that they could make some effort to be more amenable, friendly even, in their dealings not only with foreigners, but with one another, are usually greeted with disdain: It’s alright for you English and Americans telling us to smile – if we lived as you do, we’d have something to smile about. You don’t know how difficult our lives are.
I am forced to agree that the lot of the average Hungarian is indeed more difficult than that of his counterpart in England (I cannot speak for America). However, the idea that money would enable them to smile is no more than a fantasy. Working in an environment where I come into daily contact with people they deem to have it all (the nouveaux riches Hungarians), I see no discernible difference. In spite of owning almost everything money can buy, they do not smile either; they feel as dissatisfied with their lives as any other magyar: if only they lived in a richer / better organised / more (insert your own adjectives……..) country, they would have something to smile about!
Each week I visit a friend of 87 years of age in hospital, who has been bed-ridden for almost three years. The nurses, both underpaid and overworked as everywhere in Hungary, vary in temperament from the surly to the saintly. I have observed the all-too-palpable effects of their behaviour on the patients in their care. In circumstances where such elderly people are able to do little for themselves, the slightest sign of warmth or empathy, and an ability to make light of this most difficult situation, are felt with exaggerated keenness.
The nurse who puts a smile on the faces of those in her wards, lost her son just before Christmas one year ago in tragic circumstances. Yet in the midst of this terrible period in her life she continued to bustle about the wards, smiling, joking with the senile 99-year old in the same room, and trying to lift the atmosphere of gloom which only too quickly descends in her absence. Not only does it make their days more bearable, it lifts her own and her colleagues’ mood too. The day’s work can be done in resentful bad temper or with some good humour: neither will affect the wage at the month’s close, but both affect dramatically the quality of life for both the patients and the nurses themselves.
To anyone who has had even a passing contact with Africans, it is no news that in circumstances which are below the very poorest in Hungary, they smile constantly. The correlation between one’s bank account and the look on one’s face is tenuous at most.
So, as Hungarians pose the riddle : Why will the new year be an average year? To which the answer is: Because it will be worse than last year and better than next, I wonder whether we must rationalise their sullenness, using the now-fashionable excuse – it’s all in the genes….?
They quite likely feel they have very little to smile about. It is January: I find it quite difficult myself to overcome the combined gloom occasioned by the weather, the knowledge that the festivities are over and only work beckons, and the fact that the new year always heralds significant price rises. It is a Hungarian ‘tradition’ that no sooner has the last trumpet blown to sound out the end of the year, than BKV, ELMŰ and FőGáz extinguish any lingering vestiges of joyfulness that may remain from Christmas, announcing increases that would make residents of other countries pale.
Any tentative suggestions on the part of non-Hungarians that they could make some effort to be more amenable, friendly even, in their dealings not only with foreigners, but with one another, are usually greeted with disdain: It’s alright for you English and Americans telling us to smile – if we lived as you do, we’d have something to smile about. You don’t know how difficult our lives are.
I am forced to agree that the lot of the average Hungarian is indeed more difficult than that of his counterpart in England (I cannot speak for America). However, the idea that money would enable them to smile is no more than a fantasy. Working in an environment where I come into daily contact with people they deem to have it all (the nouveaux riches Hungarians), I see no discernible difference. In spite of owning almost everything money can buy, they do not smile either; they feel as dissatisfied with their lives as any other magyar: if only they lived in a richer / better organised / more (insert your own adjectives……..) country, they would have something to smile about!
Each week I visit a friend of 87 years of age in hospital, who has been bed-ridden for almost three years. The nurses, both underpaid and overworked as everywhere in Hungary, vary in temperament from the surly to the saintly. I have observed the all-too-palpable effects of their behaviour on the patients in their care. In circumstances where such elderly people are able to do little for themselves, the slightest sign of warmth or empathy, and an ability to make light of this most difficult situation, are felt with exaggerated keenness.
The nurse who puts a smile on the faces of those in her wards, lost her son just before Christmas one year ago in tragic circumstances. Yet in the midst of this terrible period in her life she continued to bustle about the wards, smiling, joking with the senile 99-year old in the same room, and trying to lift the atmosphere of gloom which only too quickly descends in her absence. Not only does it make their days more bearable, it lifts her own and her colleagues’ mood too. The day’s work can be done in resentful bad temper or with some good humour: neither will affect the wage at the month’s close, but both affect dramatically the quality of life for both the patients and the nurses themselves.
To anyone who has had even a passing contact with Africans, it is no news that in circumstances which are below the very poorest in Hungary, they smile constantly. The correlation between one’s bank account and the look on one’s face is tenuous at most.
So, as Hungarians pose the riddle : Why will the new year be an average year? To which the answer is: Because it will be worse than last year and better than next, I wonder whether we must rationalise their sullenness, using the now-fashionable excuse – it’s all in the genes….?
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