Ramesseum Hungaricum Parvum

Tasting an other style of life...

Sun 28 Jun, 2009, 15:14 pm

Just a few weeks before i began to sell my redundant things at an internet flea-market, it's a little bit eBay-like, but, of course, balkanic' size and quality. A lot of books and CD-s of my Eternal One, Roni, i hadled them like some sacred heritage for long years after he died, girly' summer clothes without arm and "deep insight" i became form my freids and my mother but i newer wore them, also shoes and dresses - sporty-styled... it was enoug for me to wear sporty garments during being paralympian. In Athens i often did scandal in the hungarian team - you didn't get the official team garment??? - they asked for when they were seen me in ladylike, light, indian-style clothes, with dark-brown skin under the greek sun, a real women among the sporting machines. I often joked them and i enjoyed the appreciative words of the staff employees, especially women! I wore my orthese on my left foot and sometimes i walked very hard, but the long dress was very good to hide the handicap - i was the "one-eyed king among the blinds"...
OK, unfortunately only because of looking like an invulnerable, i was the only one member of all teams who knew just before the tests were starting, I didn't have any chance to get a honorable result, i will play for surviving and avoiding blemish...

Just back to my garderobe, i collected a lot of rubbish and i began to sell them. A CD, some kind of hungarian alternative music - you often could hear it while I seated in the tombs and sites and i was alone - and when silence and tranquility began to be boring, i found some hungarian song in my brain, and began to sing for the deceased... Especially the tomb of Siptah, KV 49 was perfect for singing - the spirit of the young king was crazy for "Not sorry", a song based on the poem of Attila József, the fa,ous hungarian poet.

A young guy brought the CD and we began to talk about our childhood - per via email. It was a club in one of the "darkest" areas of Budapest, called "The Black Hole". For normal-educated teenagers it wasn't allowed to visit the place, i also avoided the wrath of my mother "in the foxhole" of my grandma. While my mother spent her time with his lover and she stored me by the granparents to have the flat free, my grandma allowed me a lot to do. we had only one rule - told us the time you will come home - and be exact! I visited my Eternal One also having my grandma beside of me... After my grandma died, my life begans to be much more harder...

The guy - a young bank employee - vas very interested about my job - ok, a lot of people 're wondering about archeology and a lot of are dreaming about being "Indiana Jones" after leaving the primary school. But studying is something lige negative selection - you need a suitable family - it's good to have at least one sciantist among your ancestors, you need to have the best average scores in the primary and the secondary school, being interested for history, have good financial base, etc. etc. This is because i wasn't been selected for studying in the University of Budapest. The knife is still in my back...

I understood the guy was fascinated about my life. Just believe, you're working in a bank. You can be elegant, ordirary dressed, clean, sitting in your business-car in the morning, driving to the office. Then you need working with people 're crazy or afraid about money, they're often nervous and intolerant. The circumstances 're like in a racehorse's stable - the young employees 're competing for being the best, having more and mor clients and successfull business, for premium and better position... And behind their back, their body begans to be like a hollow boat, the water is still coming inside the body, and the boat begins to sunk, slowly, you became nervous and get more and more coffees and cigarettes... You think you can steal time from yourself for doing more and more for your career... Your hand begins to flutter, your nervous system begins to revolt - i didn't want to do it... You must show yourself to be spirited and hard-minded, but inside you see the bows of your ship and only the deep dark sea around... You try to save yourself, you run bakc to into your childhood, your fav' musics, your fav' books and films, you're lying in the middle fo your kindergaden, you're playing and after - you change or sell your toys for money and existence.

Shit, i thought while i emailed him for a lot of. Just come with me for one week to "my home". Come, sit' down in the Ramesseum or Karnak, get your place amoung us, we're sitting around piece of paper-box, for getting lunch. A plastic-bag, full with hot, fine beans is still in the middle, just use your hands to get it'... Here is also some breed, water and salat, and it's equal how much you will eat - it's up to you... Don't be hurry, we have eternal time... It's fine, isn't it? OK, then come, it's the time of digestion, just lie yourself in the middle of the court. The stone is mild and warm, the sun of His Majesty strokes on your back... You're alone, just didn'n think about anything...

The most important thing i learned in Egypt - to be happy about small presents of life... Always after i returned to my land i was wondered about the lifestyle, running for money and collecting dead goods around yourself - houses, cars, clothes, money, etc... Your inside things are the only properties of you. Travelling, meeting friends, eating and drinking (and i think, making love) is the only one way to collect inside values. Your mind is like a giant-sized bag, with endless number of pockets. Some of them are hidden, some of them are fit to be losed, others 're always open because they didn't have any buttons. What's important, you carry alwas inside of you...

Are you thinking about yet, what's about your goods after you died? You're fighting for take them for long years, sometimes for a whole life... These are your valuables - but they could mean nothing for an other mind... I often think aboot my only one material value, a small ramessid amulet. When something will happen suddenly, nobody knows, where is the place i hide it, maybe they will drop the box to the trash...

Huh, Rameses, i begin to talk about stupid things again... Where is the point i broke the line?
Yes, bank empolyee's life against my way of being... Sometimes i hate to stand up in the early morning, get your "playing clothes", sandals, T-shirt and trousers, looking like a boy, the temperature is over 35 Celsius, we start to dig. Get' yous sit in the car, among two bear-bodied guys, the chef d' mission drives to the store, you can get your piece of bread, some cheese, tomatoes and cigarette. It's enough for surviving till the afternoon. The sun make you blind, the white paper is reflecting, holes and houses, pots, short breaks for a cigarette, breakfast and dinner...
But just believe, you're playing in the middle of a dark blur on the ground - may it be a grave? You're working with small, fine tools, nothing seems to be there...
You're just one and half meter deep... A piece of human remain - a top of the skull revealed... somebody, just 1500 years before, touched the head of his/her beloved before they closed the coffin ... Just 1500 years before, somebody took a look for a last, to grave the face of his/her beloved in his/her mind... You can do it again... You can feel what he/she felt... You forget the hot weather, forget the pain in your knees, forget the dust and mud, and ask the deceased to give you his/her face...

I work especially for these moments...

I think i lived something similar life like the young bank employee - Attila is his name - while i was paralympian. Ups', just back for aminute, Attila is an ancient HUNgarian king, and one time i met a dutch policeman in the Ramesseum who called me "Daughter of Attila the hun..." Huns were an ancient nation in the Carpatian Base, just in the early medieval age, before christianity, before the real hungarian kings

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