Nostalgiattack

It happened at the place I go for evening classes. They take place in a big square pile up on a hill on the Buda side of Budapest. Whilst waiting for my class to begin, standing in the corridor, I notice that occupying the floors of this building are a load of, well I guess you’d call them ‘international’ students of some kind. And as I notice the washing hanging out in the corridors, smell the cheap homely meals being prepared, bottles of cheap wine drunk from plastic cups, a rare wave of nostalgia washes over me. It reminds me of the summers I spent in Sarosptak, a town in the East of Hungary at, well I guess you’d call it a summer camp for half-Hungarians (and a few full Hungarians).

There was something very special about that time, where 14 to 17 year olds, from different countries around the world, spent time with each-other, free from parents, care-free and just focused on fun, excitement, and companionship. A formative time, where friendships forged then, somehow weathered the passing of decades to remain intact, even with very little contact.

It was of course, something in a way for the privileged, but nevertheless, to be in the flower of youth, with like-minded souls from different cultures, free of thoughts of the past or future, growing, exploring, flirting and acting the fool, devoid of status, devoid of structure, was a special kind of freedom only available at that stage of life. So to catch a glimpse of another generation doing the same, allowed me to feel the way I had as a 17 year old just for second, as my time had passed. And it made me sigh, and smile. End of soppy post.