Statue Park, in Budapest, Hungry

I always wished I was more exotic than my suburban background implied, and I didn’t help my cause by taking a job in finance after graduation. So I jumped at the chance for adventure when a job opportunity arose at one of my firm’s portfolio companies in Budapest, Hungary. None of my friends or family had ever had been to Budapest; for the first six months I lived there, my sister would ask, “So, how’s Bulgaria?”

I love Budapest–from Statue Park, a desolate stretch of land home to discarded Communist-era statues, to the pickled vegetables, which are considered their own food group–But living there isn’t always easy. Hungary has one of the lowest percentages of English speakers in the EU, and an economy disproportionately depressed by the financial crisis. There is a tangible sense of apathy; opinion polls routinely show many Hungarians believe life was better under Communist rule.

Hungary is a difficult country to navigate as an outsider. As one of the estimated seven million Americans living abroad, I spent fourteen months learning exactly how difficult.

Open to Interpretation

Hungarian friends and colleagues often–and incredulously–ask, “Why did you ever move here?”  They can’t fathom why I voluntarily would leave America to live and work in Hungary.

The truth is as an American I earn significantly more than my Hungarian counterparts, who have an average per capita income of $19k, despite living costs similar to those in the U.S.  I don’t need to worry about the Hungarian forint currency fluctuations, or bribing U.S. Embassy doctors with “gratitude money.”  Furthermore, many of my (highly educated, English-speaking) colleagues have never had the luxury of visiting the U.S.–until recently, it was difficult, as well as prohibitively expensive, to obtain a visa–and I’m not sure the reality would live up to their expectations.

Despite having never set foot on American soil, U.S. history often is a frequent topic for conversation and debate here. America has influenced the history of every country in Europe.  As a result, most Europeans are knowledgeable about–and feel no qualms passing judgment or commenting on–American politics and culture. Whereas I was barely aware of the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 (a grass-roots uprising against Soviet-imposed rule), Hungarians remember it as a time when the U.S. stood by and allowed Hungary to be crushed by Soviet troops. While that interpretation is debatable, it showcases the main role the U.S. plays in the minds of many Hungarians.

Drink wine at lunch.

As an American in Hungry, a history lesson isn’t all that I’ve had to learn. I also found out the hard way that sarcasm doesn’t translate.

Me: Hi, my name is Alex Bochicchio.
Co-worker: You have a boy’s name!  And your last name is long with so many letters.
Me: Yes it is! It took me years to learn how to spell it.
Co-worker: You do not know how to spell your name?

I used to invoke sarcasm to diffuse awkward situations, but that’s no longer an option… unless I want to risk being misunderstood (or appear unable to spell my own name).

The best advice someone gave me prior to moving to Budapest is to be patient – patient that I did not get a computer until my second week of work and received an out of office-reply from a colleague informing me he will “have limited availability to email for the next eight weeks.”  In a business culture dominated by relationships and personal interaction, I need to accept that tasks take longer to complete and lack the sense of urgency characteristic in the U.S. While I still am acclimating to this change of pace, it hasn’t been too difficult to convince myself time is better spent having a long lunch with colleagues than crunching numbers, while eating a sandwich from Tesco at my desk.

And business isn’t the only thing they are more relaxed about. When my male coworker told a female colleague she had a “very sexy voice,” the woman took it as a compliment and laughed it off.  In a country where prostitution is legal, Hungarians just don’t take flirtation as seriously as Americans do. Even in friendly interactions, Hungarians are characteristically blunt, and colleagues have told me on various occasions that I look “old” or “tired.”  It is pointless to be offended; if I am called out for the latter, I just retreat to the bathroom and apply more concealer.

Article written by Alex Bochicchio for Moxy Magazine, February 2011. Image by Ed Chadwick, map from the Wikipedia Commons.