my family doctor: – Where are you from?
me: – Hungary.
mfd: – But you don’t look Hungarian at all!
(There is no such thing as “Hungarian looks”. We don’t have a national stereotype.)
(Okay, so maybe we do.)
my boss: – Do you know X.Y.?
me: – No.
my boss: – That’s not possible! He is also from Budapest!
(Budapest’s population is over two million. Shame on me for not being acquainted with every single member of it.)
my coworker: – Do all Hungarians have blue eyes?
me: – ???
coworker: – The Hungarian doctor has blue eyes.
me: – Oh yeah?
coworker: – You also have blue eyes. So all the Hungarians I know have blue eyes.
(Well, that’s exactly two Hungarians out of the ten million. And my eyes are green but whatever.)
the same coworker: – You shouldn’t be in contact with other Hungarians.
me: – ???
coworker: – You should use your time while living in other countries to embrace other cultures.
(I’m living in other cultures since thirteen years. I have already embraced everything that is to embrace. At one point of my life I even owned a dirndl.)
Austrian doctor: – Where did you go to nursing school?
me: – I went to some school in Hungary.
Austrian doctor: – I thought you were from Austria!
patient 1: – I thought you were from Switzerland!
patient 2: – I thought you were Czech!
People who talk to me at work:
People who don’t talk to me at work:
I might open a new subcategory betitled “conversations that never happened”.
I can’t seem to be able to catch up with this blog anymore – eight months have passed since I visited Hohenems. It’s about time to either give up on this blog or start posting again. Let’s try the latter, okay?
Hohenems, the birth place of Salomon Sulzer (more on that soon), also happens to be a border town to Switzerland, which is double win :o) Only fifteen minutes walk from the town center gets you to this practical but not very charming commercial area:
Here you can either pass the abandoned border control buildings and continue along the traffic over the bridge to Diepoldsau…
or you can walk down along the Old Rhine…
…and do something…
…you can swim over to Switzerland!
Or, if you (like me) haven’t yet figured out the Nr.1 rule of the Vorarlberger Summer, which is always wear your swimsuit under your regular clothes, you can just hang your feet in shallow waters…
…and collect freshwater mussel shells…
…of which there are plenty.