Doomsday or holiday?

Many things about Hungary – and Budapest in particular – fascinate me. I can’t fathom, for instance why the BKV feels it needs to tell me, a great fan of public transport and a regular passenger, that I can take one wrapped sapling tree with me when I travel. I can’t for the life me of understand the logic behind the ticketing system in the post office. And try though I might, I can’t quite see the need for nine types of wine spritzer (dependent on the ratio of wine to water) other than finding creative ways to celebrate the fact that Ányos Jedlik, a Hungarian, invented soda water. But what baffles me most are the supermarket queues the day before a national holiday.

supermWhat is it about the Hungarian psyche that drives it en masse to the supermarket the day before a national holiday? What sustains it as it waits patiently in ever-lengthening queues to pay for groceries that are far from staple necessities? And why does this happen the day before every, single, national holiday?

I will hold up my hand and admit to a mild dose of consumerism-driven panic the first time I witnessed the grand-scale closure of all shops on a national holiday. I had been warned, admittedly, but I paid no heed. But then I realised that my local corner shop stayed open and the carton of milk that I thought I’d have to do without for a whole day was in reach. That same corner shop also had eggs, bread, and bacon, alongside beer, wine, and (back then) cigarettes. Panic averted. Yes, I might have had to pay a few forints more for said same items, but at least they were available.

sumerpmI can think of better things to do on a holiday than hit the shops to shop-shop, so the mass closure of all retail establishments for 24 hours doesn’t impact my life at all. Ditto with the bank and the post office. So why the queues?

All I can think of is that it is a reflection of times gone by. Perhaps it’s ingrained in the DNA of those who have lived under Communism? Perhaps it’s hereditary? Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the option to spend is removed, however temporarily. I just don’t know.

I’m a hoarder … of sorts. I must have a spare bottle of washing-up liquid, a spare tube of toothpaste, a spare moisturiser, deodorant, shampoo… a spare everything. I hate reaching for something to find that it’s empty, that I have to disrupt my day and go out to buy a replacement. The alternative – not doing what I had planned to do when I’d planned to do – is unthinkable. In an effort to find out why I’m like this, I read an article a while back on the neuropsychology of consumption – about why we shop. The authors (Stetka and Yarrow) posit: ‘Buying usually involves relationships in one way or another. The motivation for almost everything we buy has something to do with connecting with other human beings.’So perhaps it’s not the fear of running out of food that feeds this almost maniacal need to stock up in the face of a national holiday, but that it could be our last chance to socialise for 24 hours?

English novelist J. G. Ballard reckons that ‘people nowadays like to be together not in the old-fashioned way of, say, mingling on the piazza of an Italian Renaissance city, but, instead, huddled together in traffic jams, bus queues, on escalators and so on. It’s a new kind of togetherness which may seem totally alien, but it’s the togetherness of modern technology.’ Perhaps that’s it… it’s not the goods per se that are the attraction – it’s the act of queuing, something that is practically guaranteed no matter what time of day you go.

First published in the Budapest Times 9 May 2014.


Never miss a post

Sign up here to get an email whenever I post something new.

More Posts

Zalaszabar, Hungary, again

First-time visitors are easy. For them, everything is new. Repeat visitors are a tad more problematic. Don’t get me wrong. It’s great to see different

Szent György hegy, Hungary

The name Szent György hegy loses its magic in translation. The mundane St George’s hill doesn’t do justice to the beauty of the basalt homeland

Truth from the Cockpit

I miss travelling. I miss planes. And airports. And even RyanAir’s annoying we’re-ahead-of-schedule-but-only-because-we-buffered-the-timetable bugle call. Worse still, it’s taking me longer and longer to conjure

Dining with Pigeons in Southwestern Hungary

Unlike in Irish, the names of Hungarian villages and towns and cities don’t always translate into English. On the odd occasion that they do, they

0 Responses

  1. I thought this was a British habit, it was like a Nation stocking up for the siege of the century, do they still do that, even though for most of the year they can shop 24/7. I’ve no idea !
    Here in France [well in Brittany] public holidays mean that shops are closed, Banks are closed and so are Post Offices, so whats the deal, it’s only one day, and those of us living here appear to cope without a siege mentality. Public holidays are date specific here, tough when Christmas days falls on a Sunday and there’s no Boxing day, or day’s in lieu.

    1. Malta went date-specific, too, recently. Here, if there’s a holiday on Thursday, everyone gets Friday off too, but they have to work the following Saturday to make up for it.

  2. One reason, explained to me by some Hungarians (yes, I also once wondered about this), is they are family oriented. So they shop the day before a holiday so they can spend the holiday with family, not shopping. Or they will be traveling, and do not want to shop when they visit the little vacation house owned by their uncle’s, wife’s, brother’s, daughter’s, husband’s cousin on Lake Balaton (where even the little stores are often closed).

    Something else I noticed where I live (country side, so may not be Budapest relevant) is many here shop daily for fresh meats, dairy and produce. So they have to stock up for the long holiday (the most popular local fresh meat store, for example, is closed where I live on holidays).

  3. I’ve been amused by this phenomenon too Mary, but have yet to solve it. The trick is to go shopping 2 days before the national holiday! 🙂

  4. This also happens in every other country I have ever lived in. Don’t think it is a particularly Hungarian occurence….

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: