The Socialist Party Party

No, my title is not a typo.  This blog is about the parties thrown by the Magyar Szocialista Párt (Hungarian Socialist Party).  They don't sound like they'd be wild and crazy, but you would be surprised.

First, I should explain that I think there's an election coming up.  Politicians have plastered their posters all over town.  I find them interesting, because they look like political posters in the US, but they have a fancy photo of the person.  Some appear angry, probably trying to make you vote for them out of fear.  Others smile and look jolly, obviously going for the life-of-the-party approach.  My favorite, though, are the people who look genuinely miserable.  I think they stand a fighting chance, because they look like they were born to spend their days in a government building.

Last Friday, I was walking by the Csaba Center (the local mall), and I saw a stage set up.  It seems to be the cool place to have a stage, so I wasn't surprised.  I was surprised, however, when a girl dressed as a giant lego came up to me and started talking.  I couldn't understand a word she said, but she had big red lego box around her torso, and her face was painted red.  She tried to give me a lego piece and was explaining what to do with it, but it was over my head.  Fortunately, I think she has a future in politics because she looked miserable in her stupid costume.

The stage had the initials MSZP on it's backdrop.  I know this stands for the socialist party, because their local headquarters happens to be attached to my apartment building.  I think we're friends because they give me dirty looks everytime I have the nerve to use their sidewalk.  I thought socialism was about sharing?

Aside from the coincidence that red lego blocks were my school's Garabonciás theme, there was nothing exciting going on.  Until later, when I came back.  I was lured down the street when I could hear music playing.  The sight that awaited me was horrible, but too great to look away.  It was a band made up of six middle aged members.  Most of them had the look of older people that want to be young musicians, but the lead singer definitely wins first prize.  He was wearing baggy leather pants, a cotton t-shirt that almost came to his knees, a leather jacket, and, the best part, and American flag do-rag (without a doubt the first time I've ever written this word, but wikipedia has confirmed that this is the correct spelling).  Mastercard couldn't use this man in an advertisement, because priceless wasn't a strong enough word for him.

I quickly lost interest in this band, because I couldn't stand to hear them butcher the Rolling Stones like that.  But, I giggled about it my whole walk home.  I was going to write about it, but it slipped my mind because of lack of excitement.  That is, until last night.

Last night, as you know, I stayed up late to watch the Redskins.  Finally, at 1 AM, I was comfortable with the lead and decided to sleep for a few hours.  When I went to check that my front door was locked, I heard loud music.  Very loud music.  More-than-one-person-should-call-the-cops-because-it's-way-too-loud-for-one-o'clock-in-the-morning-on-Sunday-night loud music.

As you know, curiosity for anything that could be funny is a weakness of mine.  I went outside.  Across the courtyard, through the rain, I saw a bunch of Hungarian socialists informing the entire world "We're not gonna take it" while the Twisted Sister song tried to keep up.  That's right, evidently they missed the political structure of the 1980's, so they played some American rock hits to try and bring it back.  I couldn't see too well, but there were at least a dozen people dancing around excitedly.  The music was loud, but they were louder.  Perhaps they had achieved some sort of victory that day?  Maybe they just felt like singing.

So remember, if you come to Hungary you should be aware of the socialists.  If you forget, I'm sure they will remind you.  They will sing, in heavily accented English, "we're not gonna take it, anymore."