I was in Eger today. Eger is an important city in Hungarian history and there is a famous castle there. I spent a few hours filming the castle. I wanted to make sure I covered all parts of the castle. I might have missed a few stones. Maybe. Maybe I was a little compulsive about it. I expect I will use about 30 seconds worth of footage for my film. Sometimes I just can't stop.
As I was walking down the street I heard the sound that only a band director can love: beginning music students. So I popped in to see what was going on. One thing led to another, and soon I was sitting in on a trumpet lesson. I exchanged e-mail with the brass teacher, and then the percussion teacher showed me around. He has a collection of old Hungarian instruments, so we had a nice talk.
I ate a very nice Hungarian lunch which included some of my favorite foods: fruit soup, and galuska.
I walked around filming Eger, getting lost, and met some kids who were fascinated with my camera and had a nice talk with their grandfather while they zoomed in and out on everything in sight.
While getting on the bus I make a little mistake. I put my bag in the luggage compartment under the bus.
The trip to Budapest was beautiful because of the evening light and I think I got some film of Matra mountain and the nuclear power plant.
I popped out of the bus thinking about how I would get home using the public transportation.
My mother used to say that she was glad my head was securely fastened to my body so I couldn't use it. After Andy was born they told me they thought I would be a good father to my children as long as I didn't lose them.
You know where this is going.
I forgot to get my bag from under the bus.
I didn't realize it until I had purchased a subway pass and was on my way. It hit me as if I were in the basement of the Twin Towers when they fell.
I prayed. Hard.
I headed back but the bus was long gone. People directed me to the "Service office." The door to the "Service office" read, "Entry forbidden" but the people nearby assured me I could go in.
I entered a small room about 6' X 8'. There was no light in the room at all, and at the other end was a grey-haired man with large glasses sitting behind a window. His room was dark too, except for a desk lamp.
As I appoached he was shouting at someone on the phone. He slammed it down with one hand and picked up a different phone with the other. After shouting into that one for the better part of a minute he slammed that one down. Then he directed his full atention on me and said, "Tess!" (What!) I should explain that in a semi-formal situation like a restaurant Hungarians say, "Tessek parancsolja" which translates as "May I help you?" Less formally they often shorten it to "Tessek." I have never heard "Tess!"
Well, if I had left something else on the bus I think I would have cut my losses and just left. But, remembering that all the film I shot for the film in Hajdubösörmeny were in my bag, I dared to speak.
I explained the situation, he hammered out a few strokes on the keyboard and told me the bus had already left back to Eger.
Somehow the dark room darkened.
I scooped my heart up from the floor and asked what I should do. He blurted, "I don't know."
For some reason I had expected help.
Since I didn't move, and he obviously had more people to shout at he wrote down a telephone number and sent me away.
If I could see into the future I would not have left the room. But, like a man who just ran over his own dog, I retreated from the "Service desk," carrying the feint glimmer of hope - 8 blue numbers on a small white scrap of paper.
I managed to find a phone booth, but 10 minutes worth of dialing proved fruitless.
I began to run through a mental inventory of my lost things putting them in two categories: replacable and irreplacable. The feint glimmer of hope was flickering. My backpack was heavy, but not nearly as heavy as my countenance. The phone booth became a boxing ring and I began pummeling myself with the gloves off. So Stupid. So irresponisble. So Careless. What was I thinking! When will I grow up! My work was interrupted by the sweat running down my back, and I stood there staring at the bottons on the phone. No bag. No help. No phone number. No hope.
As is often the case, at the end of the road, at the lowest point God sends help. There was a man standing outside the phone booth. God's "Service desk."
I asked about the phone number. The small white piece of paper was fine but there was a problem with the 8 blue numbers.
I esplained my situation. He closed hes phone shop and took me back to the "Service desk." He withstood the piercing glare behind the large glasses and we returned with a new number.
I didn't work. He suggested we try again in 15 minutes.
Then God sent his second helper. I called Zsofi. I confessed the self-induced catatrophy. At this point my bag was on it's way back to Eger and the bus was apparently in a communication black hole. I couldn't reach the driver or the Eger bus office.
Zsofi wondered if I knew anyone in Eger. Now the third God-sent hlep entered the story. This help God prepared a day ahed of time. Wednesday I met with Ilona and she told me Judit lives in Eger and gave me her number! I thanked God for Zsofi and her level head.
So I called Judit, the 4th helper. Yes, she said, she would gladly meet the bus carrying my bag in Eger and retrieve it for me. I would catch the next bus and follow my bag back to Eger.
I know, it wasn't an elegant plan but another two hour bus ride would be worth it if I could get my bag back.
Se there was a little hope for success. But I was pretty well convinced that someone had probably already stolen my bag and this trip was just following the air.
I had 10 minutes to catch the bext bus back to Eger. As I approached the bus I looked inside and saw the driver. It was the same gu who drove us from Eger! I looked in the luggage compartment and there was my bag!
The man in the "Service office" was wrong - the bus hadn't gone back to Eger - it was there the whole time!
I love stories with a happy ending.
tim
