Posted on Jun 4, 2018 | 0 comments

So a few more weeks and I’ll be a Hungarian citizen. This is how I imagine it will go:

“Day 9.

Dear diary

In my quest to study the Hungarian orc language I have decided to become a full citizen of this once great nation. They brought me in front of the great Hun tent where I had to swear an oath to the chieftain and wash a horse with pálinka. Their strange customs are fascinating. They fed me a bowl of red liquid and the ceremony started with the greeting words of ‘egyed már, ne nézed‘. It tasted like lava. Next I had to dress up in their national traditional gear and handle a whip with my hands both inserted in their kürtőskalács cylindrical totem food. It was a difficult task. The ritual ended with the crying ceremony where lost but not forgotten lands were mentioned. Women wallowed; children wept; the men lit fire to their curved moustaches and screamed in agony. It was a sight to see.
When I finally got my papers the Sun was already rising. One tribe member did the usual morning head count and one person was missing again. Then the morning crying ritual ensured where they wept for their declining gene pool. Viktor Orbán was mentioned.”