It’s funny how I looked down upon them just weeks ago, and now I’m contemplating joining their circles. I’d direct a tentative smile in their direction, but continue on my way up the stairs to the asphalt gray platforms to pick a train. Wouldn’t matter where it takes me. It should just be far enough. Maybe even across the border. Now that would be something. I’d take one of the shabbiest long-distance ones with no air conditioning, smelly seats and greasy floors. I’d hated them every time we’d had to take one when we went to some remote place, but now I feel like this is where I belong. I’d just pick one with a departure time not far off, as I know sooner or later they’d be after me. I guess I’d have to hide on the train, too. Would be fun to always try to avoid the conductor, which I’d have to do not only because I wouldn’t want them to find me, but also, because I wouldn’t have a ticket. I’d sit on the toilet for most of the journey, I guess. And the border crossing – that would be another challenge. I’d have to plan that better. Or maybe a remote little village within Hungary will do. There are enough of those, where I could just show up from out of nowhere and ask old ladies for food. Or steal from the shops, like I sometimes did now. Or eat wild plants. Or sneak onto somebody’s land and eat their tomatoes and cabbage. Or go catch dogs for a Chinese restaurant. Just joking, I could never do that. I love doggies. My friend Julie has a puppy now, a really cute one. Some homeless people also have dogs, so the authorities can’t force them to go to a shelter. Anyway, if I became homeless, maybe I’d have a dog, too. Not for protection, but for love. Seems like only a dog could love me and accept me the way I am. So no dog catching for Chinese restaurants. But, actually, the idea of the restaurant is great, I could be a waitress in the summertime at Lake Balaton. Yes, I’d definitely go for that.
So, once in the Southern Railway Station, after passing the homeless, I’d know my train. Take the one going to Tapolca, along the northern side of the lake. Travelling on those trains is an adventure in itself, for two reasons: one of them is the train itself, as it is sometimes late, sometimes on time, sometimes you have air conditioning, sometimes you don’t, but you can’t open the windows no matter what, and sometimes you don’t even have a seat, because there are not enough carriages. The other reason is the scenery. Right after it departs, the train passes through a long and run-down tunnel, right outside the Southern Station, to start the adventure. I like it best when the lights in the carriage don’t work, leaving the minds and souls in total darkness.
Legend has it that Whiskey Guy, an infamous criminal, a modern-day Robin Hood, ran through this tunnel while escaping from the police after robbing a bank. Allegedly he didn’t succeed, but escaped from prison like three times.
Then Lake Velence. Been there, done that, too. Back to the times when I was a toddler and enjoyed splashing in the shallow water at the edge, building sandcastles. Or the family pizza nights at the restaurant nearby. Or the colorful plastic pedalboat, when mom was pedaling, but having little success at steering. Okay, that was embarrassing. Then it goes through Székesfehérvár, an ugly jungle of concrete blocks placed in the middle of an old rural town. It has a spacious railway station with several tracks and platforms, which gives ample opportunity for the railway traffic managers to reschedule trains disrupted by constant delays. I can imagine that soon we’d almost be there. I’d have a sore butt from sitting on the train toilet, and also, would have gotten used to the smells coming from both the filthy toilet and the old and rusty car itself, which reeks of stale tobacco, sweat, machine oil and God only knows what.
The tracks would curve through the yellow rape fields, the corn rows and occasional sunflower patches dried out by the scorching heat in the summer. Finally, the train would arrive at the lake. The Lake Itself. The typical greenish-brownish water – in some years more translucent than in others, sometimes frowning and throwing foaming waves at me – is the lake where I feel like I have reached home. I’d be standing by the window, I mean, the toilet window, to catch that first glimpse of it when it slowly makes its appearance and secretly shows its shining colors, peeking out from its hideaway behind the hills. And when it finally does, I know I can bolt out of the toilet and get the hell out of that disgusting train.
Once out and safe on the ground, the fresh lake breeze would finally blow the hair out of my face and sweep that awful smell out of my mind and soul. I would be free! Free to do whatever I want – run down to the beach, jump in the water, come out soaking wet and look like a monster, leaving my dripping footprints all over the place. Then I’d get my belongings together, put up my small and flimsy tent in the woods nearby, bathe in the lake in the morning, and start looking for work.
There is a restaurant nearby, where I could try, but then it would dawn on me: I am most probably wanted by now, so I can’t just go in there and ask for a job. I should first do something with my face, hair, or whatever. Too bad I’m not a guy. I could easily grow a beard, and, poof, the disguise would be good to go. I think I’d decide on either cutting my hair or just putting on some really ugly headgear with sunglasses. Or obnoxious lipstick with highlighter. Even the thought of this is making my heart beat faster. I feel the excitement and promise of ultimate freedom. I just know somehow I’d find a job in a restaurant. I’d be washing dishes in the back, or cleaning the floor, even learning how to make meals. I’d spend my days off at the beach, live in a tent for the summer, and maybe by the fall I could have enough money to go further, where they’d never find me.
(…to be continued…)
Transadaptation Volume 6 – Meaning? – Uncertainty, Instability and Extremes Transadapted
January: A Regular Train Trip – Mateusz Tymoszewski (Poland)
February: Growing Up – Adriana Uribe (Columbia)
March: Mess – Veronika Groke (Austria)
April: The Roads We Take – Svetlana Molchanova (Russia)
May: Need – Nadia Silva Castro (Brazil)
June: “Next Sunshine” – Jonay Quintero Hernandez (Spain)
July: Intentions – Narantsogt Baatarkhuu (Mongolia)
August: Planet Kyiv – Anastasiia Leonova (Ukraine)
September: Torn – Ulrike Bergmeister (Germany)
October: Stories of Outcast Souls – Armine Asryan (Armenia)
November: Ronaldinha – Alejandra Baccino Uberti (Uruguay)
December: Aimlessly – Krisztina Janosi (Hungary)
Background – Context
Transadaptation Volume 5: Of Flowing Vicissitudes – Life Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2024)
Transadaptation Volume 4: Material Dissent – Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2023)
Transadaptation Volume 3: Evanescent – Young Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2022)
Transadaptation Volume 2: Conceived – Childhood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2021)
Transadaptation Volume 1: In the Middle – Prelude to a Contemporary Transadaptation, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2020)
Peripatetic Alterity: A Philosophical Treatise on the Spectrum of Being – Romantics and Pragmatists by Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)
La Syncrétion of Polarization and Extremes Transposée, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)
The Codex of Uncertainty Transposed, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2018)
L’anthologie of Global Instability Transpuesta, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2017)
From Wahnsinnig to the Loony Bin: German and Russian Stories Transposed to Modern-day America, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2013)
Emblems and stories on the international community
Perception by country – Transposing emblems, articles, short stories and reports from around the world
Credits
Single left, middle and right column: Budapest, Hungary – Üllői street – That guy from Hungary (Shutterstock)
Left tripartite column (top to bottom): 1. Budapest, Hungary – By sea, by road, by rail – J. Wang (Shutterstock); 2. Velence, Hungary – At the train station – Posztos (Shutterstock); 3. Budapest, Hungary – At the train station – Csiki photo (Shutterstock)
Right tripartite column (top to bottom): 1. Szeget, Hungary – The courtyard playground – Fotogurmespb (Shutterstock); 2. Budapest, Hungary – On the rails – Jiamin Huang (Unsplash); 3. Velence, Hungary – Lake Velence – Csiki photo (Shutterstock)