Hungry for Hungary? Feast your eyes on this

A last-minute trip to Budapest had me scrambling for information. I read, I surfed the Internet and then I ran over to my neighbor's house for some fresh information.

Gaby and Agnes have been living near me for the last 20 years, so I knew it was OK to interrupt their meal to ask them a few questions.

They were happy to help, inviting me to sit down and eat a delicious chicken dish seasoned with a lot of paprika.

"We like to use paprika in our food," said Gaby, adding, "we especially like it in our soup."

Thinking I might not like that, Gaby quickly explained that what he meant by soup is actually a famous Hungarian dish called gulyas (translation: cow herd).

Then I really got scared.

"Doesn't sound very appetizing," I told my friends with candor.

"Oh, it is the best," Agnes shot back, explaining more about what is in said soup: cubed beef, tomato, green peppers, potatoes, a variety of green vegetables and, of course, paprika. Her description sounded more like a meal than a simple starter.

As for starting my conversation, I asked for a little background about the place that just celebrated the anniversary of its establishment as a Hungarian state on Aug. 20. Since Agnes, now a dress designer, had been a linguist in her country before coming to the U.S., she told me a bit about her native tongue.

"Don't think you can get by using your Romance language skills because Hungarian is not related. Neither does it have anything to do with Germanic or Slavic languages," she said, which surprised me. "About the only other language in our category -- Fino-Ugrian -- is spoken in Finland, but unless you are trained like me, you will not even notice a resemblance."

And I thought Cantonese was tough to learn.

Still, I persevered, asking for the way to properly say thank you.

She wrote it down: koszonom, with umlauts over all three o's.

I thought I was in trouble, but my friend quickly taught me that if I looked at the phrase phonetically I would be fine: kuhsuhnuhm.

After practicing three times I got it right. That wasn't so difficult.

What was difficult was getting my mind around the idea that even though I might meet some very friendly people in my travels to Hungary, there was a good chance these nice folks would not ask me to sit down at their table at home like Agnes and Gaby do all the time.

"That person may not be happy with his or her living situation, and therefore would not want to burden you with visiting such a humble environment," said Gaby, who worked as an urban planner in Budapest.

He explained, "We need to be proud of where we live in order to show it off."

I understood, and went on to the next question, followed by another and another and another since I really didn't know much about my neighbor's particular part of the world.

One question on my mind related to Gaby, who always shook hands as if he were trying to crush the other person's knuckles.

"Oh, yes, hearty handshakes are an important part of doing business," he said, grinning. "So don't be fooled by me just because I am a strong man. Even the frailest woman will grip your hand with as much strength as she can muster."

Noted, and forewarned.

Finally, after three hours of talking about my neighbors' homeland, I realized it was time to get back to my own house even though my two friends protested. Then, when Agnes graciously saw me to the door, she wished me a happy trip.

Then she told me one more thing that made me even more intrigued about Hungary.

"I'm sure you'll find out about the spicy side of my country when you get there," she said, adding in American slang and with a big smile, "and I'm not talking paprika here."