2007 BUDAPEST, HUNGARY

The remnants of Communism, plastered with the reality of globalization, framed the stoned wall that I coolly and comfortably leaned against. I stood with an air that I was no stranger to this place called Budapest. My two American friends and I were waiting for the bus to come take us to Pest, which was on the other side of the Danube River. The comprehensive silence of curiosity was illustrated in our eyes -- forming a conversation with the architectural palettes of the gray, blue and white buildings of cement. The air was chilled with frost. It was December. I put my bare hands in my pocket.

The yellow bus screeched to a halt. We loaded ourselves in from the back. It was crowded. Apparently everyone and their grandmother were going to Pest! Budapest is divided into two cities: Buda is where we stayed. The hotels were cheap and the ambiance was residential. Pest, simply put, was where the life was. As soon as the driver pulled off, I felt in my stomach that this was going to be a crazy, body-swerving ride. And oh, it was. I grabbed onto the leather straps that hung like miniature nooses from the ceiling with both hands. I prayed between clenched teeth that we would not crash.

Next to me stood a little girl of about six years of age and her grandmother, both enveloped in dark wool coats and bright red scarves, somehow emphasizing the red blood that flushed their pink cheeks. The young girl, with her blond tresses and big blue eyes, held her grandmother’s hand, as the other was gripping onto the strap for dear life. Her wide blue eyes met my brown eyes. She smiled as she stared. And I knew why.

I smiled back.

To be continued...