The library of my childhood

It was a dark November 🍂 afternoon when I was walking with my mom somewhere at our large compound . Passing near the cultural center I saw a lots of books 📖 and people  inside .

- What is this place ? - I asked

- The library - my mother answered . For a very small fee one can read the books there or even can take them home !

- Really ? - I asked happily 😊

- Yes - and even children can be a member . But now it is too late . We are about to move 🚚 to another town . Once settled I will take you
to their library .I promise .

It was a real WOW feeling just to learn about the existence of such facility .( I could compare it to the moment when I learned to ride my bike 🚲.) But even to be a member ! It was far beyond all my expectations !
I was seven and half and I already read all our books . Then the neighbours' books . Then I was starving and ready to devour any book I come across .I was waiting for my summer holiday visiting cousins and I was planning to read their books . Or a birthday , name day or something similar .

The existence of the library opened a new perspective to my life ☼. I praised in myself the one who invented it .I just wished to have something similar for toys and games . But my mom informed me that facility does not exists .


Moving to another town was a real cultural shock . The landscape , the people were so different .☹ But my mom kept her promise and took me to the library . That was a wonderful place ☺.It was in the town center   in an old historical building . Downstairs children's library - upstairs library for the big ones .

We had a really nice sized collection . Old books were well maintained not discarded . I read a lot .
As a result I became a ✍ good writer .Essay writing was always an easy job for me . Walking home from school the sentences ,ideas formed by themselves in my mind . I just had to write them down when arriving home .

My very best friend whom I met at age 12 was also a bookworm . We visited the library together , would read at home cracking apples . Discussing the stories after .One year later we found no books to read downstairs we read them all . So we were allowed to be a member of the library upstairs. But often returned to the kids section for its special atmosphere .

And the kids library just improved year after year . The new librarians were not only advising kids about what to read but they were ready to chat with them . They could tell them about their problems , they helped them with their home works .They provided them a shelter for the afternoons if conditions at their homes were not favorable . They organized competitions , they made some puppets and performed operas with them using their audio collection . Those librarians were real fairies .
We were very lucky .
When visiting cities later in my life I noticed that those city libraries were quite different .So impersonal and less inviting than our town's libraries .

Later it was declining - the libraries did not get much money to buy new books . It was quite sad . Especially to learn how little money our "fairies" made . They retired with very small pension . The new librarians were not similar to them . But the Internet attracted a lots of kids who could not afford it .

Yeah - when I grew up the Internet came and I "owned" whole libraries in my room . That was a real wow feeling but this is another story .

P.S. similar facility for toys and games opened when I was in my twenties - my kids visited it and liked it very much ...

Daddy is my hero - what about yours

It's Father's Day today in the US . I have always found  this day strange when I heard about it  in my childhood .As far as I know it is not celebrated in the Middle East ,either .But I found  this day to be a nice occasion for sharing my childhood stories with my readers .
Daddy is my hero - you can read here a real story of my childhood when a wonderful trip was turned into a nightmare and how my father  tried to help me and how much super power he had had suddenly  just to  know me safe and sound .

Please visit   my page if you want to read a nice true story about a young father and his little daughter . I am also interested in other people's story - so if you have one do not hesitate and share it with us on the page .  You can leave links leading to other great dad's stories as well at any time when you read this page .

It is raining in Doha .A woman from Hungary just woke up. Her mum visited her unexpectedly in her dream .There is no need for visa anymore -she said happily ...I can come at any time  when I wish to see you .. .
It was just a dream ...Bitter feelings - but the rain is true ... It is comforting . It feels like home .It feels like being child . Sitting in the veranda of grandma well protected from the rain still enjoying the fresh air and watching how everything gets washed in the garden . The dreams , the smell of wheat and corn from the pantry the puddles in the streets of Doha . Everything get mixed .
A Hungarian man in Bolivia is being tried behind closed doors, a Hungarian  man who believed that one should fight against ugly dictatorships .His friends were shot dead in their dreams in their hotel rooms . His life was spared and now he is being tried without witnesses .
It is raining . It is comforting somehow ...

Christmas stories from my childhood - my auntie's house

Pretty Vintage Miss by almawad
 We started a new life with my family in a new town . After my father got a better position we lived a more comfortable life than before  but we were not happy at all . In our previous dwelling place everything looked better  and my elder brother and I wished to move back . It was not possible and we had to find to good point in the town . It was not easy ! It had only a few things that we liked and one of those was the house of my auntie ...

Every thing used to be so beautiful at my auntie's house . High ceilings , odd geometric patterned curtains ,fine ceramics ,gorgeous old furniture ... as all the house had been covered by some golden dust of a bygone era .As a little girl I did not know words and notions like art-deco or bourgeois or artistic sense .
Their Christmas tree was so beautiful too - full of interesting decoration which were not available at shops at that time ... her cakes were traditional delicacies spiced up with original ideas . I had always felt that to be with them at Christmas was a great privilege .Our parents were chatting after lunch and we were merrily merrily playing ....Firmly , I believed that all those beauty and charm in their house was due to the fact that they had only one child and that is how they could afford it ! And   I happened  to feel   jealous  and wished our home was filled with luxury and beauty like that !

 But one year - instead of the usual cheer - we found that bad mood reigned in their home when we arrived on Christmas Day  .My cousin did not want to come out and play with us.  He closed himself inside his bedroom . Under the tree there were the unopened gifts .He did not want to open them and refused to taste the wonderful lunch as well .

My auntie was sad .It was very embarrassing to hear her explanation : "Santa does not exit . We had to tell him . He had been longing for a little brother or sister for years and he has been writing letters to Santa to get one .Unfortunately it is not possible . "

When I first heard it I was very much surprised at the fact that he still believed in Santa. Then I remembered how nice that my parents never lied to us about this issue. They had always told us that this was just a game.

All that was sad but we were children . We did not understood the weight of their problem .We were merry as usual with my brothers .This one cheered up my auntie .We appreciated her Xmas lunch , admired her wonderfully decorated tree and were grateful for the presents .We went home sooner than usual .

Our flat was much smaller and furnished at an average level of the 1970's Hungary .There were two old paintings on the wall ,my mother had a porcelain dinner set for special occasions . That was all the luxury we had .Still all that made me very happy at that moment . It was then that I understood how great gift is to have brothers growing up with me !
________________________________

My auntie 's home is still lovely . I live far from her and can not go home for Xmas usually . Luckily their days and their Xmas is always merry - full of laughter and cheers. Their three grandchildren live near them and they make their days very special all the year around .



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Lost on a train - my childhood stories

 from my childhood stories

It was a wonderful trip with my father to Budapest .I do not remember exactly why and how but we traveled to the capital and visited my uncle and my cousins . We had great time together and Budapest ,the metropolis was always full of wonders for the little girl who I used to be .
Our two or three days were filled with joy and fun and when the time came then we took the train as usually to ride along Lake Balaton to reach our home hundreds of kilometer far ...Traveling together was pure joy . The beauty of the nature and the kids magazine that dad bought for me on the train made me feel that all the time was very special ! When the  young man who was selling sandwiches and coffee came then my dad bought a coffee for himself .  I asked him to buy for me some chestnut puree which looked so delicious  with some whipped cream on the top . I did not suspect then that this sweet treat  would turn our dream journey into a nightmare .

Summer at lake Balaton Canvas Prints by almawad
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It was a very hot day and the whipped cream must have been stale on the chestnut puree ! At least it made me sick soon after I had it  and I threw up the whole  thing . This was just the beginning of the troubles . After cleaning me - my father was looking for potable water on the train -but nobody had any of that . Two hours or more ride was ahead of us and it was scorching heat .
"There is no other solution than getting out of the train and filling your bottle at the tap" said the conductor woman on the train . She consulted her timetables then she added " We will wait 20 minutes at the next railway station - you will have plenty of time to get water "
So my father left the train . I promised him to keep sitting there where I was whatever happens !
I was waiting quietly . One fellow passenger looked out of the window and told me " lots of folks at the tap - you must be patient ,little girl !"
So was I .
Then I heard the sound of whistle soon . Then the train was rolling under me . I could not understand the whole thing ! But one thing was clear : only some minutes passed after my father left the train and he was not back !

As the train started to gain full speed my hope to see my father faded . Suddenly I wished to cry - but I kept telling myself : "Do not cry ! There is no problem ! If you cry then it means there is a problem ! "
A fellow passenger looked up from his magazine "little girl - your father did not come back ?"
"No"
Then he went on reading ...
The conductor woman soon arrived excited ." Little girl ,your father missed the train - but do not worry I will take you home once we arrive " "what is your name address - can you tell me please ?"
Luckily ,my mother taught us well our personal details.Though I was so little but I knew all my personal data by heart .Then the conductor woman was relieved ."so no need to go to the police to find your family" "Do not worry your father is coming soon in the next train "
I looked at her at that moment like a savor !

All these things made me quiet but also made me wonder about other things :" what will my mom say when she sees me with this woman and my father lost ." "what will she say when it turns out that all the problems started because of that chestnut puree because I wanted it so much " 'will she blame me for all that ?"

But I did not have to think about those things for a long time ...
The train started to slow down  and we were approaching another railway station ... The door opened violently and my dad stormed into the compartment .He just hugged me and did not say a word . He was not able to....He was exhausted !

I could not understand anything nor did the other passengers !
Then came the conductor woman and started to yell at him : " You made a terrible thing it could have cost you your life ! It is strictly forbidden to jump on a train while it is moving "
Then my father shouted back and other passengers were angry with that woman who made a terrible mistake when consulting her timetables  and gave wrong information about the time the train would spend at that station.

Finally everything became quiet around me ...And sitting in my father's lap I could listen to his story ....

When it was his turn at the tap then the train started to move . He filled the bottle and was running after the train . He was running more than two kilometers when he managed to jump on the last carriage . All he could do was to hold himself tight while the train was at full speed .He could open the door and enter only when the train was slowing down ...

He knew very well how dangerous all of it was .. But he felt he must do it because all the time a terrible image haunted him : his little daughter opens the train's door wishing to find his dad and falls out of the carriage ...

Since that time I had known that my daddy is a real hero ...

DO you adore trains like I do ? See this Hungarian trainspotting page !

ladybug family by almawad
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The Hippie and the conductor

Everything was fun on the train .I enjoyed the speed ,the tunnels ,the buffet , the magazine for kids , the conversation of the adults ,the view of Lake Balaton .There used to be only one thing I hated : the conductor .She /He used to come with a grim face "tickets please " then my parents always got scared as they had something to fear -and served her/him our tickets .he/She checked them with superiority and gave them back then I saw my parents getting relief .Other passengers used to behave  the same way .It was weird all in all .
Once a strange man entered our compartment : he was barefoot ,he had big beard and long hair .He was wearing striped jeans and a waste coat without anything under just his bare skin .
"Can I sit here ?" -he had asked with docile face .
Everybody had a shock on his face -but they answered : "yes ,you can ."
There was a big silence after that .The man with a strange look closed his eyes - and fell asleep or at least he pretended to do so ."hippie " the passengers whispered to each other .
Half an hour later the conductor came : Tickets !!!
The man did not react .She shook him very much .When he opened his eyes he looked innocently to her ."Ticket ?"
He checked all his pockets .There were a lot in his jeans and bag .He was quiet and did not seemed to be scared at all .Everybody was mute .When he finished checking all  his outfit  then he told to the conductor :"it seems that I do not have ticket " - everybody was scared hearing about such a big mistake but him .
The conductor was scared  from his tranquility as well .In her most polite voice she just answered :" Then please leave the train at the next stop "
So he did . After he left I asked my mum about him : "a hippie" she answered smiling .
 Then I admired him very much and at once I decided to be a hippie when I grow up and I will never be afraid of anybody especially not of big headed conductors ...

Sweet Memories by almawad
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HAVING ICE CREAM ? It is good. It used to be . The flavour of the vanilla would be simple and tender ,free of any exaggeration , No artificial touch in it .The chocolate ice cream would be little bit bitter .The strawberry one used to be sour a bit.These used to be the real ice creams .The ice creams of my early childhood .The smell of the ice cream used to be mixed with the smell of beer as it was at the drink bar where it had been sold .
It used to be in April that the ice cream parlour reopened after winter .Kids of the area would run around the blocks and shout cheerfully : ice cream .
Some years later the flavours changed .They became artificial . It seemed as we had a great variety of them but in fact the flavours became uniform .God save us from that period .That was the time when small shops were encouraged in Hungary to be opened and their was a great demand on colorful ice creams .These terrible things used to be made of imported ice cream powder ...
Nowadays we have a lots of very good ice cream parlor .They cook the ice cream and natural flavours are preferred in my country .If you happen to visit Hungary and you would like to taste some gourmet ice cream then try Szamos brand .
It is a family business with great fantasy !
And if you ask me what is the Qatari ice cream tastes like then I would say that there is no typical Qatari ice cream , but some of the imported creams are good .. Yeah ,if you ask me what it tastes then I would say it taste mocha almond yes it taste mocha almond

CHERRY trees are blooming in Hungary . It is so nice part of the year .Especially in the little town where I had spent most of my school age .Walking to school and coming back was a half an hour daily routine .But the blooming of the cherry trees had made it very special . Like all the streets got in their Sunday bests .There were a lots of trees in the streets in front of the houses. The dwellers of the houses regarded them as their own ones .Though I think it was rather an old municipality project due to which there were so many cherry trees in the green belt .For me it meant school is soon over , we can eat cherry while going home to school and summer and freedom is near .
Here , no cherry trees , no wonderful nice summer weather ... we got dates instead .

LETTER TO MY IMAGINARY ARAB FRIEND
Dear Sadika ,
You asked me about my Easters .It was the nicest in my early childhood ,I think . That was the time when I was able to be so happy with the good weather with the fresh grass and the daffodils , with the arrival of the spring .The Easter eggs used to be red like the lipstick on the women .I remember the taste of these red boiled eggs the most .
Easter Monday is the most important in Hungary .It is almost unknown in the other parts of the world .On this day the boys and lads and men go from house to house and sprinkle some water or perfume on the ladies as a sign of well wish for the coming year .My brother always went and came home with a lots of sweets and lots of red boiled eggs .That was his reward from the ladies .I used to be very happy with his luck .Later when I grew bigger and my heart was not so innocent I kept asking why only boys can go and collect presents . Why do we have to sit at home and wait for them to give them something .
Later when in Qatar I saw at Eid boys and girls going together from house to house to wish Happy Eid I was really satisfied .
I would like to tell you more about my Easter .To choose the most memorable one .But it seems that every one gave me something and like transparent layers hey are lying on each other : my years and my Easters .Once our teachers surprised us .They took us to the forest and hid the presents there .How happy we were to find those paper bunnies with some sweets !
Then my father comes to my mind and a nice Easter in the park , when I was adult .The lights were so nice and everything and everybody was so peaceful ..I wish I had the flying carpet of Aladdin to visit him now . Or at least more reasonable air fares to go to Europe from Doha !
But the most important before Easter is the peace .As a great poet of ours Babits told : enough ,let the war end and let oh let the peace come .
Peace on the dead peace on the alive !





Your Friend : Alma

Grandma used to come to see us every December

Grandma used to come to see us every December. We lived somewhere in Western Hungary and she  lived on the Great Hungarian Plain .On the day when she left  for seeing us she took her two large baskets very early in the morning and took the little train of her village . It was still dark then .She arrived at a bigger town when the sun rose –where she took the train to Budapest .Then arriving there she had to cross the city with her two large baskets to get to the right station .Then  the train  was huffing and puffing again three hours all along the picturesque lake of Balaton.

Her arrival was  always the greatest present for us. Her baskets were hiding delicacies out of this world. Duck drippings, duck livers, plum jam in a clay pot, raspberry jam and syrup, walnuts.

Once there was a very cold winter . December had a grim look .My father had spent much money and even more on wood and kerosene .He had nearly froze to death during WWII as a little guy .As a result – he overprotected his family  and himself against the cold .

When it was about to buy the Xmas presents –simply- there was no money left  .My mother told us about it very sadly :-"No presents this year .Sorry kids ."
But we were not sad at all .All we wanted to know; - "Will Grandma come as usual?" 

As she did come –we were cheerful .  Her arrival was the greatest present and made all our December very special . Besides the delicacies she brought - she had her crochets and wool and she had made us every year a new pair of slipper.She  had a lots news and stories about relatives and her village .She spoke a very special dialect , a kind of old Hungarian and I looked at her as she was a fairy stepped out of from a tale .

Finally  our  Xmas Eve turned out to be very exciting . My father came home from work with a wonderful metal sledge .He had made it himself somehow from some waste metal.  What a wonderful  surprise it was ! On Xmas  day we went to a hill not far from our compound and close to a stream and were sliding all the day.
 Mom says that those days financially were the most difficult ones for our family .But in my memories there  is no hardship or sadness ..
 Actually ,I always remember those days as the most wonderful times  of our life.

Hungarian Xmas 1902 Greeting Card by almawad