Showing posts with label Rakoczi var. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rakoczi var. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

My Hometown, Sarospatak #OurAuthorGang

Sarospatak will always be my hometown
no matter where I choose to live.
by Erika M Szabo

I grew up in this lovely historical town, Sárospatak, in northern Hungary of the Bodrog river valley.
The area has been inhabited since ancient times and Sárospatak was granted town status in 1201 by King Emeric. Today the town is a tourist attraction and an important cultural center.
The Rakoczi var's ground was one of my favorite playgrounds when I was a kid. We played the wargame with my friends and defended the castle against the Habsburgs with toy swords and muskets.

The cultural center was beautifully rebuilt after I moved away. I have fond memories from my childhood researching in the library and enjoying the wide variety of programs in the theater.  

I found this picture of people relaxing in the cultural center's plaza. 

The waterpark is a major tourist attraction today. When I was a kid, there was only one pool where people relaxed in the hot thermal water that is known to ease arthritis pain. 
There is a beautiful tradition every year when the town celebrates the patron saint, St. Erzsebet's life. People dress up in costumes and reenact Erzsebet's life from birth to her death.


Hungarians have a special bond with horses and there is rarely a celebration without them.

Even Santa comes to town with the Krampuses on horseback.

The novella I published last year plays out in Sarospatak. Jayden, an archeologist from New York is fascinated by Hungarian history and participating in an important dig in Sarospatak. His sister, Emily, decides to spend her summer vacation from medical school in their grandmother's home and joins her brother. She meets her childhood playmate, Daniel, by coincidence or fate, at the airport. Daniel never forgot his first love and they rekindle their bond on the long flight to Budapest. Emily meets her excited brother and Jayden tells her that he found a leather book in his grandmother's secret room. the book was written in 426 by a shaman. Emily can read the ancient runes, and they learn about their family's curse. They also find out that the curse cast by their ancestor remains unbroken, it will bring tragedy and ruin their lives as it destroyed many of their ancestors' lives for centuries. Will they find the way to break the ancient curse? Could Emily find happiness with her childhood friend, Daniel?

Find this eBook in online stores:
EBOOK and PRINT

Read a short excerpt:

Chapter 1

“Archaeology is the peeping Tom of the sciences. It is the sandbox of men who care not where they are going; they merely want to know where everyone else has been.” ~ Jim Bishop

cd

Megyer Mountain, Hungary

The archaeological site near an abandoned stone mill quarry in the mountains on the Northeast side of Hungary had been buzzing with activity for days. Archaeologists found 16th-century artifacts the year before, but when they restarted the site in the spring and dug deeper, they’d unearthed an ancient burial site in the eight-foot-deep layer. As the initial assessment estimated, this layer had been untouched since the 5th century.

The large space near the top of the mountain had been cleared from vegetation and two more pits started in the spring. The excited murmurs of the group of four archeology students working at the bottom of the largest, nine feet deep hole, sounded muffled by the mound of dirt piled neatly around the mouth of the pits.

The smaller hole was occupied by two students kneeling in the dirt, brushes, and fine chisels in their hands. They carefully scraped away the dirt layer by layer. Next to them laid out on a weathered tarp were weapons, jewelry, and everyday items from around the beginning of the 5th century.

Jayden, a young American archeologist worked in the third pit, alone. Although Helen, the lead archeologist, wanted everyone to concentrate on the two new holes they’d found the artifacts in, Jayden convinced her to let him try the abandoned pit again.

Helen, a plump, middle-aged woman in white cotton overall, stood by a table carefully labeling and documenting the artifacts. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the sweat from her forehead. A strand of salt and pepper hair hung loosely tickling her nose, so she took off her hairband and pulled her hair into a tight bun.

Next to a large tent that housed the boxed artifacts ready to be transported to the museum, sat two men in foldup chairs wearing security guard uniforms. Bored out of their minds, they played cards keeping an eye on Helen. Standing with her back toward them, as soon as she moved, the guards hid the cards. If they’d be caught by the stern woman, they would say goodbye to their well-paying, cushy jobs.

The group had been working since dawn, knowing that it would be too hot to work after midday when they would be forced to take a break until around mid-afternoon.

The sound of the soft murmurs of the students and the relaxing chatter of animals coming from the bushes and trees had been broken by a lanky young student in a dusty overall. He ascended the stepladder from the largest hole and yelled out to the lead archeologist, his voice roaring, “Helen, you have to see this!”

Helen froze for a second, and then dropping her notepad and pen, she started running toward the pit. When she was near the mouth of the deep hole, her chest tightening by the sudden excitement and anticipation, asked, “What did you find?”

“Come down and see!” The student’s head disappeared as he hurried down the stepladder giving space for Helen to descend.

“Darn!” Helen exclaimed when her shaky leg missed the last step, but the young man broke her fall and steadied her on her feet. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Look!” One of the female students pointed at the horse's skull and shoulder poking halfway out of the soil. “Look at that beautiful headgear!” She looked up at Helen, beaming with joy.

“It’s magnificent!” Helen whispered. “The finest craftsmanship I’ve ever seen.” Crouching by the skull, she carefully ran her fingers through the dry, hardened leather. “The usage of gold and alloy of copper and zinc proves that this warrior had a funeral fit for a noble leader.” She quickly stood up as a realization hit her, and with a sweeping move of her arm, she barked out an order. “Everyone back away! There might be a human skeleton here as well. This is either the grave of a warrior’s favorite horse or a clan’s revered medicine woman who had been buried here with her horse. We must start clearing the dirt in a circle, from outward to inward.”

The four students complied and slowly moved away from the skeleton. They stood in a circle, their backs touching the wall of the pit. “How do you know?” one of them asked.

Helen stared at her confused students for a few seconds and then lowered her eyes back to the skull and began explaining, “According to Hun funerary customs of the 5th century, a male warrior had to be buried with his horse in an upright position, and the warrior sitting on his horse, upright. But because this horse was laid to rest on its side, it means that either buried alone or with a female medicine woman, who was also a warrior, sitting on its back, also laid on her side.” She stood by the horse skull calculating where the human skeleton should be, and grabbing a digging stick, she started scratching a wide circle into the packed dirt around the skeleton. “Okay, we’ll start removing the earth toward the middle of the circle, but very carefully!” she warned the students. “Let’s get to work!”

The group kneeled around the circle and carefully started the tedious work of scraping and brushing the packed dirt inch by inch and collecting the soil into small baskets. One of the students emptied the baskets into a large one with leather straps. He put the basket on his back and started climbing up on the stepladder. While pouring the dirt on top of the growing mound near the mouth of the pit, he waved and smiled at the guards.

Peter, the gangly, middle-aged guard waved back and stood up, shaking the numbness from his legs. “They must’ve found something,” he said to his stocky partner. “I’m gonna check it out. Helen seemed to be very excited when the student called her.”

“You go check it out, I’ll stay here to watch the tent,” Rowan said and pocketed the deck of cards.

 Peter walked to the largest pit and craning his neck, he peeked while planting his feet firmly on the ground. Some old bones. He thought. Good! I hope they’ll keep finding stuff for a long time to keep my job secure. Not interested in looking at bones, he straightened up with a grunt and started walking around the clearing. He peeked into the other pits and initiated small talk with the students. They weren’t interested in talking, so Peter continued his round.

On his way back to the tent, anger rose in his chest when he spotted his partner still sitting on the chair, but his head tilted to the side. “That fool fell asleep!” He mumbled and hurried over. Rowan was softly snoring. “Hey, wake up, man!” Peter said, keeping his voice down, he punched his partner’s shoulder.

“Uh, what? Nah! I ain’t sleeping. Just restin’ me eyes,” the balding man grunted with a heavy Irish accent, which he still couldn’t lose after twenty years of living in Hungary. He sat up straight and wiped spittle from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

Peter scolded him in a hushed voice, “If they catch you snoozing, you can say goodbye to this easy job.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan mumbled. “They’re in the holes busy brushing dirt off of old stuff. And who would come up to this place to steal anything, anyway?” He stretched his hands over his head and let out a loud yawn before reclining once more on the fold-up chair with obvious intent to resume his slumber.

“Just keep your eyes open! I’m gonna drive down to the coffee shop to pick up the breakfast.”

“Okay, hurry up. I’m starving.”

Peter walked down the path between the thick bushes to the clearing where the archeology team parked their cars. Despite his promise, his porky partner’s chin dropped to his chest as soon as he was out of sight. I’ll just close me eyes for a moment, he thought. His breathing slowed as he fell asleep.

Continue reading:
https://books2read.com/Unbroken-Curse-by-Erika-M-Szabo


COMMENTS

Erika M Szabo

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
I had a great childhood Rick :) We didn't have cellphones or games and I was allowed to watch TV only an hour a day. But in order to play war games, we had to know the history. Therefore, because we didn't have YouTube and Google either, we listened to old people's stories and read books. Maybe because of that, I daydreamed a lot and made up stories about heroic historical figures.
 
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I also had a great childhood, as you know. Thus, like you, Erika, I have the benefit of a vivid imagination.

Erika M Szabo via Google+

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
My Hometown, Sarospatak #OurAuthorGang
Sarospatak will always be my hometown no matter where I choose to live. by Erika M Szabo http://www.authorerikamszabo.com I grew up in this lovely historical town, Sárospatak, in northern Hungary of the Bodrog river valley. The area has been inhabited since...
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Mary Anne Yarde

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
I am really enjoying learning about Hungarian culture. Your pictures are beautiful!
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Thank you Mary Anne :)

Eni T

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Loved it!
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I'm glad you did Eniko :)

Grace Au

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Your Hungary looks amazing! Thank you for sharing the photos and your rich heritage with us!
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My next post will be about Budapest with pictures of amazing historical buildings :)

Mackenzie Flohr

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Such beautiful pictures! I also enjoy learning about other cultures and history, so thank you for this post.
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Glad you enjoyed it :)

Cristina Grau

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Great video. Your town looks gorgeous. I bet it was nice growing up in such a place.
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Yes, it was :) I have lots of great memories

T.C. Rypel

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Delightful personal history, Erika, enhanced by all those breathtakingly beautiful pics and the tantalizing glimpse into "Cursed Bloodline," which I have to read!

We've discussed my own Central European roots (Poland), which factored heavily into my thrusting the samurai-Viking hero Gonji right into the Carpathian Mts., east of Buda and Pest, in my series' opening trilogy. All the research I pored over made me quite fond of the history and culture of this Vlad the Impaler territory. And all those wonderful native names transported me right back to my fictional dealings in the environs. You teleported my imagination to a place that I've always found haunting (right down to the wooden-spoon-spanking threats---did EVERY ethnic granny not hold a wooden spoon in reserve as a hedge against kids' misbehavior?!).

Kudos to you for this lovely posting and stirring text sample.
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I can imagine how much research you did for your awesome series Ted :) Isn't it amazing how many contradictory "facts" we can find when doing research of historical events? For example, the great Hun King, Attila, is still depicted as a brute savage in many books and articles. In fact, he was an educated man and a great leader. Was Vlad III a monster, or a medieval ruler like any other? The world may never know for sure because of the many contradictory information we can find. Vlad's cruelty is well documented in historical texts, but what often goes overlooked is how he combined this cruelty with cunning to terrorize his enemies as it was customary in his time.
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Yes! In my experience, the prevailing image of Attila, and historic Huns in general, is either: a) a complete misunderstanding of them ethnically---as if their "nomadic Asian-ness" saw them never evolve beyond their Genghis Khan/Mongol roots, over the centuries of European assimilation; or, b) a quick transition into stomping, faceless Germanic hordes who trampled Middle-Age Europe.

And Vlad is ALWAYS "Dracula" in popular mass conception. At one point in the Deathwind Trilogy, during a military planning meeting of the Vedunian rebels under Gonji, I have old wagoner Ignace Obradek break into senile exultation over how great it might be to have one-time protector Vlad the Impaler's help in freeing the territory from the invading sorcerous army.
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Lorraine Carey

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
What an interesting town! I need to add this on my bucket list! So much culture here.
The beauty is how you weave this into your novels.
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Better to stick with what we know :)
 
Always a smart move.

Joe Bonadonna via Google+

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 

Today on A Small Group of Authors, Erika M Szabo talks about growing up in the Hungarian town of Sarospatak, shows us some wonderful pictures illustrating the culture and history of the town, and provides us with a wonderful excerpt from her novel, "Cursed Bloodline."
https://asmallgangofauthors.blogspot.com/2017/07/my-hometown-sarospatak-ourauthorgang.html
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Thank you for sharing my post Joe :)
 
You're very welcome! Excellent post, too!

Joe Bonadonna

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
What a wonderful and lovely town you grew up in, Erika. So full of culture and history. I think Rick Steves, on his PBS series, "Rick Steves' Europe," visited Sarospatak. Now I have an even clearer understanding of your love for horses. Great excerpt from your novel, and I loved the video, too!
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I love the Rick Steves' series! But I missed the episode when he visited my hometown and it's not on his website. Maybe I can find it in the PBS archives. I bet he sampled some tasty food and the wedding pasties and cakes that the women of Sarospatak are famous for :)
 
I could be wrong about Steves' show. What triggered a memory was the pool where people go because it's good for their arthritis, and the horse pageantry. I know he's been to Hungary and that part of Europe. He's taken me to places I would never had heard of, otherwise. His tours are supposed to be excellent, if a bit expensive. We have Perillo Tours here in Chicago, which are very reasonably priced, but I think they only go to Italy and Sicily -- not even the Greek Islands!

Rick Haynes

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly
 
History is fascinating and your pictures, Erika, show some of your colourful heritage. I love the picture of The Rakoczi var's ground, what a place for children to run wild. Maybe that's where your vivid imagination came from?
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Enjoy some ancient music