Silent Tunes

The main problem with this blog is that it's about me. Though I may be captivated by all that I write about me, I doubt that anyone else is. In fiction you can write about yourself under the guise of writing about made-up people.

I live in Budapest, Hungary; I'm here studying music. My father's a diplomat and was posted here for three years. When he got a new assignment in Africa (Libreville, Gabon) my older brother began attending college in the States (Notre Dame), and I decided to stay here. I study piano with a private teacher and attend a music high school for other subjects like solfege and music theory.

I'm interested in people. I enjoy watching them in the buses, on the sidewalks, and in the underpasses. I like listening to them. And I like writing about them. I haven't quite figured out yet how much of a person's art comes from themselves or from the people around them.

Because Daddy's in the Foreign Service, we've traveled a lot. I've lived overseas since I was five, with only relatively brief returns to the United States. This has had the result of making America a foreign country to me: strictly speaking, it is not my home. There really isn't a culture or society that I feel is my home, as I've grown up in so many. Being homeschooled has added to this effect.

I expect it would be good to thrown in a mention (for effect) at this point of the failed mutiny we lived through in Central Africa, and of the riot that took place when we were in China. The latter resulted in our being evacuated from our apartment behind the consulate to a hotel, and the former in our being evacuated back to the States, though in both cases Daddy had to stay behind. During the riot I remember being frightened by the burning down of the consul general's residence next door, and by the thought of how small the walls around our apartment building were. My brother and sisters slept through that night. During the mutiny, I recall continuous gun fire (I was ten at the time) and driving in a military truck through town and not being able to take off at first for Cameroon because of fighting near the airport.

On a final note, my favorite Agatha Christie mystery novel is And Then There Were None.

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		wFriday, March 26, 2004
		Lots has been happening, although probably not of any moment to anyone but myself and various near connections. To begin with, I'm not studying with Kristof any more. The lessons were going so well with Katalin that I knew I wanted to stick with her. I made more progress with her in a month than with Chris in half a year. In fact, I'd felt more like I'd gone backwards than forwards with him. There were times when I sat down to practice and didn't feel I could play at all. Feeling held-back like that hurts. And then, when I started doing a month's worth of lessons with Katalin (at Kristof's suggestion), all of a sudden I was enjoying studying music again. The only problem was that I didn't know a way to break with Chris. In fact, I didn't really plan to, as I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Although if after resuming lessons with him they still weren't going well I expect I would have switched anyway. But that's not how it happened. Which brings us to the Hullabaloo. When my parents bought the apartment here they also purchased a piano (for me, naturally). We bought it through the brother of a friend of Kristof, if you follow that. The brother, the friend, and Kristof all assured us it was a good piano. The only problem with it was that the keys were too easy. So a piano repairman, oft-used by Chris, changed the hammer-heads for us. He did a rotten job, putting in hammer-heads that weren't suited for this type of piano, and he also charged us too much. The keys became much too heavy and also completely uneven. So Katalin sent her piano repairman to check it out. He told us the piano was about thirty years older than we thought it was (from the middle of the nineteenth century), couldn't be fixed into any semblance of a modern piano, and was a waste of money. He should definitely know, as he comes from a long line of piano workmen/tuners, and his family runs some sort of training school for this work. But Chris decided he didn't believe him, mainly because that would mean that through him we bought a bad piano. So then he also decided to get mad at Katalin. To make a long story short, after the various things he said to her she said she wouldn't teach me together with him anymore. So I have switched to just her, rather to my relief. It sure wasn't pleasant calling Kristof and telling him this though. We've had a very close relationship, and I knew whatever I said was going to hurt. I was also a bit apprehensive he would be angry with me. But, hearing that I was on the verge of tears as I told him the news, he didn't get mad, so we plan to remain friends. As to the piano, not sure yet what we shall do about it. Complicated and perhaps not over-exciting, but this is what has been filling my time recently. By the way, since my sisters have moved their blogs to new secret locations, I would appreciate any links to put under my 'family/friends/cordial acquaintances' list over to the left. Just I don't like to link to anyone without permission first. For all I know, someone might consider it an insult to even be considered my cordial acquaintance, heh heh. posted by Rebekkah at 7:10 PM

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