Journal of a Sabbatical

August 3, 1999

hulló makkok

Scrambled eggs with paprika for breakfast today along with the usual plate of salami, cheese, sliced peppers, and tomato. Yesterday's eggs were fried.

We've all developed what we call the Hungarian sweating disease, which involves soaked T-shirts and a constant desire to take a shower. I have the urge to wash my hair morning, noon, and night but settle for morning and night.

Checking the specimens in the Taiwan room - the ones we took out of boxes yesterday - for ones that have no numbers or ones that need re-pressing was the order of the day for me, Keith, and Judy. Carol is still unpacking the Japan boxes. Mary and Isabel have commandeered Tasmania and Chile. They've even put their names on the door.

Many of the Taiwan packets bear strange messages in Hungarian.

Judy: What is this?
Keith: I can't tell whether it's a verb or an infinitive.

That turned out to be the name of the plant in Latin. But the dire warnings with exclamation points:

Hulló makkok!!!

turned out to mean "falling acorns". And falling they were. All over the place. Other kinds of seeds pulled this trick too and we were forever rounding them up, stuffing them in little gray envelopes, and taping them to the specimen sheets (Taiwanese newspapers). This slowed us down a lot.

Today's surprises from Japan included some garbage and some paprika. I reminded Carol that they were packing up the base camp in Rokugo at 2:30 in the morning on the last day (not me, I was asleep on my futon in my 4.5 tatami room - can't blame me for mistaking the garbage bag for specimens).

Mary and Isabel had mentioned yesterday that they'd found a pen of domestic wild boars behind the herbarium just past the yellow plum tree. I went over to take a look, followed shortly by Keith in search of tree sparrows. When I got close, the boars ran into their shed and hid. I really wanted a picture of them so Keith went around in back of the shed while I stayed out by the fence with the camera. That startled the boars and they stampeded right toward me in a perfect photo-op. What teamwork!

Convinced that I can't drive - or at least can't drive the white Opel - Isabel has had István call the rental car place and add her as a second driver. I ask about getting an automatic but apparently such a thing is not common in Hungary. I resign myself to not driving for the duration of the project.

Since the team pretty much agreed that the Hotel Tanne was unmemorable, we asked one of Edit's assistants for a recommendation. After trying to recommend Hotel Tanne again, she finally gave us directions to Boszorkánykonyha (witch kitchen) right on the main street of Budakeszi. They really get into the witch theme all right. Witch kitsch hangs from the ceiling, on the walls, everywhere. One look at the menu and I realize I am going to have to eat meat or starve. I mentally apologize to all of pig kind. The pork cutlet witch style is actually pretty good. Cheap too. We've found our favorite restaurant.

Back at the herbarium, István shows the slides from the Tasmania expedition. I want to go to Tasmania immediately - not the least because it's currently winter there.

George says he saw a wild boar while he was out cycling.

István draws a picture of the Serbian spruce for me in case I can convince Bobby to photograph it for him.