As I approached the village I did not yet realise that I was known as ‘the little boy in short trousers.’ In 1963 my mother was holding my hand proudly as we walked together in to Siget I.D Wart. We had come about a kilometre from the station. As we entered curtains were drawn back as shocked villagers looked on and whispered to each other ‘look at that poor little boy. What is she doing bringing him in short trousers in this terrible blizzard?’
News had already spread throughout the village that I was coming. With snow on the ground I wondered how many lookouts were expectantly awaiting my arrival, at the age of 56, in short trousers! As we passed the local football pitch a day later there was a girls football match in progress. As we approach the club house one of the older local men hails Gerhard, points at me, laughs and says ‘I recognise him as the little boy in short trousers.’
It is an amazingly small chance that I am here in Siget now. But I am. In 1533 my ancestors were driven from the Dalmatian Coast of Croatia by the invading Turks of the Ottoman Empire. The Tallians were of Italian descent and came to Siget to join a growing iron ore and smelting trade. We were of noble blood then with a coat of arms - a crane bird standing on one leg on an island amidst bullrushes. We also had titles that were somehow lost five generations ago. The Turkish expansion, the Tallian choice of Siget, an iron ore business, the second world war and mum emigrating to England were all necessary events for me to be here in Siget now. And to think mum wanted to go to America. When her visa application to America didn't come through she took the option of going England in search of a better life. The chances of being here or not are so finely balanced.
My grandmother, Irene, stands proudly here with her parents. My great grandfather displays a magnificent mustache. These genes appear to be dormant now as I know I could not possibly grow such a fine specimen above my own lip.
Grandma Irene would later marry Granddad Kalman Tallian and set things in motion for the eventual arrival of the little boy in short trousers.
And of course Dad had a big role in me being here as the other half of a lovely couple.
Grandma Irene would later marry Granddad Kalman Tallian and set things in motion for the eventual arrival of the little boy in short trousers.
Siget is Hungarian for Island. Wart is Hungarian for lookout. Siget I.D Wart is one of three western most villages of Hungary (Oberwart and Unterwart being the other two) and was a lookout post for Old Hungary. I spent all my life until now thinking Wart was the name of the river running through the village! I learn a lot on this return visit.
All this shifting of peoples with migration, wars and sliding borders means that I am unable to communicate directly with my Siget cousins in a common tongue. The village is in Burgenland where it became part of Austria in 1921 as part of the Versailles treaty after the second world war. Mum’s first language was Hungarian. I now learn there are Croatian strains in the dialect she speaks. German was imposed on her from the age of 7 with the arrival of the Nazi’s and compulsory German language learning as part of the school curriculum. Many worse horrors than the German language were inflicted upon the village during the evil reign of the Nazi regime. I remember, when I was about 7, mum trying very hard to get me to speak German at home but I resisted and somehow prevailed. She had to learn with a German gun to her head whereas I was being encouraged with love. I now regret my opposition as I would love to be able to talk directly to my relatives in one of their tongues.
This is my first visit back since 1974 and I wonder what I will remember. A flood of warm feelings flow through me as I hug my cousins Brigita and Herbert and my aunt Edith.
I have wonderful memories of a four year old Brigita sitting on my lap and laughing. Herbert and Walter were sitting at the kitchen table at my uncle Kolo’s house catching flies with one hand. Try catching a fly with one hand and you will see how impressive this is. Earlier I had met my cousin Gerhard in Vienna. Both of us had wondered if we would recognize each other as it is over 30 years since we have seen each other. We also both think about how an Austrian and an Englishman should greet each other when they meet. Somehow, naturally, a kiss on both cheeks and an invigorating hug was the answer. So much passage of time but our feeling for each other is strong and it is as if we parted yesterday.
I have wonderful memories of a four year old Brigita sitting on my lap and laughing. Herbert and Walter were sitting at the kitchen table at my uncle Kolo’s house catching flies with one hand. Try catching a fly with one hand and you will see how impressive this is. Earlier I had met my cousin Gerhard in Vienna. Both of us had wondered if we would recognize each other as it is over 30 years since we have seen each other. We also both think about how an Austrian and an Englishman should greet each other when they meet. Somehow, naturally, a kiss on both cheeks and an invigorating hug was the answer. So much passage of time but our feeling for each other is strong and it is as if we parted yesterday.
I used to think I was half Austrian but now realise it is not as simple as that. It seems the claims of Italy, Croatia and Hungary are at least as strong, if not stronger, than my Austrian connection. I think of my very special friend Hungarian friend Judit in Budapest.
When we met a few years ago I said I was half Austrian but that my mothers’ first language was Hungarian. I visit her in Budapest now and talk with her about my growing interest in my identity. Following many conversations on where we come from with my great mate Rob has definitely given rise to part of my interest.
Rob was born in England, went to Oxford, lived most of his life in England and has a British passport but insists unequivocally that he is a Cypriot. Looking a little deeper is revealing a fascinating thread through history of the different elements of my own make up.
When we met a few years ago I said I was half Austrian but that my mothers’ first language was Hungarian. I visit her in Budapest now and talk with her about my growing interest in my identity. Following many conversations on where we come from with my great mate Rob has definitely given rise to part of my interest.
Rob was born in England, went to Oxford, lived most of his life in England and has a British passport but insists unequivocally that he is a Cypriot. Looking a little deeper is revealing a fascinating thread through history of the different elements of my own make up.
Judit and I cruise along the Danube at night. Wow, what a city. Stunningly beautiful with the heights of Buda looking over the Danube on the flats of Pest and a feast of architecture to delight the eye all around. The Houses of Parliament modelled on Westminster are architecturally impressive. The Palaces and Churches exude power from the past.
Judit and I laugh lots as the method of the cruise is to get dead people from the past, old buildings and even the Danube to give us their personal reflections on what Budapest is all about. I tell Judit that my special friend and art teacher Julia is a witch and her mother Brenda can talk to people on the other side. Well tonight we experience what this is like and it really does provide a rich perspective on what Budapest is all about.
Judit and I laugh lots as the method of the cruise is to get dead people from the past, old buildings and even the Danube to give us their personal reflections on what Budapest is all about. I tell Judit that my special friend and art teacher Julia is a witch and her mother Brenda can talk to people on the other side. Well tonight we experience what this is like and it really does provide a rich perspective on what Budapest is all about.
As we wander round the village we come to my Granddad’s house. As a four year old I have a memory of a large farmhouse with a roaring fire. Water was from the well and the farmhouse was candlelit at night. I have a strong memory of going to the toilet which was at the bottom of the farmyard. It was a muddy trek with a small dog barking frantically and chasing me as I went. Well how interesting memory is. The farmhouse is incredibly small and mum, Elsa, Kolo and Granddad all slept in a small room off a small kitchen. The big well I remember is remarkably small and amazingly the little outhouse that was the toilet is still there.
Memories flood in as I see the Stork's nest above the fire station is still there but I now realise it is nowhere near as big as I remember it. We go in to the Gasthaus Kirchenwirt where many parties, dances and festivities were celebrated. My memory dances at the feelings of warmth and love that surrounded these events. There was singing, dancing, plenty of food and drink and everyone was having fun.
There is a picture up on the wall of mum and her sister Elsa as young girls in the village. They are still strongly identified as daughters of Siget.
We stop and talk with Pathy Erno who is now 92 years old and looking fantastic. He tells us about his parents farm behind him and putting mum and Elsa up in his own house when they were over for Uncle Kollo's and Aunt Edith's wedding. He also mentions his three months in the bitter cold stuck outside Leningrad fighting for a Germany he was forced to serve.
We call in to visit Elonka who was one of mum's best friends at school and has remained a life long friend. There are tears and more warm hugs and laughter as we go through great memories of the past. Out come the photographs including pictures of the little boy in short trousers of long ago. I feel a great connection to the people I meet here and a tremendous welcome everywhere I go. Alex is with me and I am wondering what he is thinking about it all. He seems relaxed and at ease as he wanders round with us and thoroughly enjoys the food and cake that is offered everywhere we go.
We visit the cemetery with Edith, Brigita and Gerhard to pay our respects to family. It is a touching moment in beautifully tended graves in which more memories flood of great times as a child. Tears trickle as I think about Granddad and Kolo and the special role they played in making me who I am today. I notice that my Granddad Kalman was born on the 15th August which is my brother Steven's birthdate. This is one of the many new things I learn on this visit as the experiences of this visit mix with the memories of my childhood.
The battlegrounds of Europe and religion are present as we pass the churches. The perfectly preserved Catholic Church stands unused for hundreds of years looking over to the now frequented local Protestant Church.
I am reconnecting with this village which is now full of new people. I reflect on how all this evaporates if we don't somehow refresh the links that are made of hugs, smiles, love and short time we spend together on this earth. I am so glad I have come and so grateful to Gerhard for hosting me and Alex joining me. We really enjoy the fabulous hospitality of Brigita and Edith offering schnitzel, cakes and of course 'Fortnum and Mason Earl Grey Tea!'
We leave the village with hugs,kisses and some tears. Jolan is also a life long very special friend of mum. We visit her and Willy where there is yet more warm welcome, delicious food and loving hospitality.
I even squeeze in a game of chess with Willy who is a worthy opponent.
Before leaving Vienna we make sure Alex has tried all the cakes on offer. Between workouts and diets he partakes of them all and is a real fan.
Gerhard and I notice how close we are in our views we are and how many common interests we have. In all these days together we never ran out of subjects that kept both of us talking with interest for hours. Gerhard remembers his rebel days of youth and tells me the phrase 'if you are not a communist at 20 you have no heart. if you are still a communist at 30 you have no brain.' He is now teaching History at Graz, Vienna and Budapest George Sorros Universities after previously being a filmmaker. He has provided me with the history here and shows me he still has some of the spark of his youth about him as he reveals each year he is Dr Watusi the Master of Ceremonies at the G'schertnBall Rockability Festival. Tickets are still available for this years event at Stadl Bildein if you are interested.
Memories flood in as I see the Stork's nest above the fire station is still there but I now realise it is nowhere near as big as I remember it. We go in to the Gasthaus Kirchenwirt where many parties, dances and festivities were celebrated. My memory dances at the feelings of warmth and love that surrounded these events. There was singing, dancing, plenty of food and drink and everyone was having fun.
There is a picture up on the wall of mum and her sister Elsa as young girls in the village. They are still strongly identified as daughters of Siget.
We stop and talk with Pathy Erno who is now 92 years old and looking fantastic. He tells us about his parents farm behind him and putting mum and Elsa up in his own house when they were over for Uncle Kollo's and Aunt Edith's wedding. He also mentions his three months in the bitter cold stuck outside Leningrad fighting for a Germany he was forced to serve.
We call in to visit Elonka who was one of mum's best friends at school and has remained a life long friend. There are tears and more warm hugs and laughter as we go through great memories of the past. Out come the photographs including pictures of the little boy in short trousers of long ago. I feel a great connection to the people I meet here and a tremendous welcome everywhere I go. Alex is with me and I am wondering what he is thinking about it all. He seems relaxed and at ease as he wanders round with us and thoroughly enjoys the food and cake that is offered everywhere we go.
We visit the cemetery with Edith, Brigita and Gerhard to pay our respects to family. It is a touching moment in beautifully tended graves in which more memories flood of great times as a child. Tears trickle as I think about Granddad and Kolo and the special role they played in making me who I am today. I notice that my Granddad Kalman was born on the 15th August which is my brother Steven's birthdate. This is one of the many new things I learn on this visit as the experiences of this visit mix with the memories of my childhood.
The battlegrounds of Europe and religion are present as we pass the churches. The perfectly preserved Catholic Church stands unused for hundreds of years looking over to the now frequented local Protestant Church.
I am reconnecting with this village which is now full of new people. I reflect on how all this evaporates if we don't somehow refresh the links that are made of hugs, smiles, love and short time we spend together on this earth. I am so glad I have come and so grateful to Gerhard for hosting me and Alex joining me. We really enjoy the fabulous hospitality of Brigita and Edith offering schnitzel, cakes and of course 'Fortnum and Mason Earl Grey Tea!'
We leave the village with hugs,kisses and some tears. Jolan is also a life long very special friend of mum. We visit her and Willy where there is yet more warm welcome, delicious food and loving hospitality.
I even squeeze in a game of chess with Willy who is a worthy opponent.
Before leaving Vienna we make sure Alex has tried all the cakes on offer. Between workouts and diets he partakes of them all and is a real fan.
Gerhard and I notice how close we are in our views we are and how many common interests we have. In all these days together we never ran out of subjects that kept both of us talking with interest for hours. Gerhard remembers his rebel days of youth and tells me the phrase 'if you are not a communist at 20 you have no heart. if you are still a communist at 30 you have no brain.' He is now teaching History at Graz, Vienna and Budapest George Sorros Universities after previously being a filmmaker. He has provided me with the history here and shows me he still has some of the spark of his youth about him as he reveals each year he is Dr Watusi the Master of Ceremonies at the G'schertnBall Rockability Festival. Tickets are still available for this years event at Stadl Bildein if you are interested.
It is fitting that on our last night we drive up to the top of the hill behind Vienna. We stand by a plaque and look down on Vienna. We are shivering. It is cold and we are standing in deep snow with an icy wind whipping around us. This is the spot where Sigmund Freud says he often visited to reflect about his work and is where he came up with his ideas about the importance of dreams.
What an amazing journey through the mind, memory and a special place on earth this has been. Inside I am still a little boy in short trousers and I suppose I will always be.
