The fictitious diary of a well-meaning chap.
Humor bridges the gap between reality and tragedy. In doing so, it demonstrates our ability to be amused, no matter what. This pseudo-journal is translated from Hungarian. Some inferences had to be sacrificed because of the uniqueness of the national component of humor. The piece is presented because; good irony has a point to be communicated. Alas, the original source of the text cannot be traced.
2008 04 10: Today I had an interesting experience. A Muslim couple has settled in our town. The refugee family has eighteen members. They are kind and modest and they walk the streets in a file that reminds of ducks waddling on the way to the pond.
2012 01 01: Happy New Year! These Arabs are amusing folks. There are now six families in town. They always smile. Only once, has there been trouble. They had “Wienerschnitzels”, using breaded veal, at the restaurant. Afterwards it came out, that again; the cheating cook used not veal but pork to prepare it. I have seldom seen so much barfing!
2015 03 15: The house next door has been sold. The head of the family is called Ahmed. A strange guy! He has pulled a sack over his three wives. They may toddle that way on our streets. I do wonder what might be hidden under those sacks. Another sack? Who can tell? However, they are full of money even if they do not work. There must be a remote supporter. They also use their fortune to champion new immigrants. I respect that solidarity.
2018 10 28: Our new neighbor is also a Muslim. They are a previously poor Magyar family that has been persuaded to convert. Let me admit, that aunt Gisela looks rather odd in a chador. That might be because she used a living room curtain with which we had darkened our lights so that enemy fliers would not find us.
The other day, I went to the football match. I dressed properly for the event and was well shaved. There a group of primitives dressed in nightgowns assailed me. They felt that I am a disgusting smooth faced non-believing dog. What is going on here?
2020 03 31: The Muslim Community has purchased the old movie theater. They tore it down and erected a fancy building to replace it. It might be an observatory as it has a terribly high tower. We were a little bit afraid of that one. However, the fear died down as they named it something like “Mecsek” after our local mountains. (A play on words. Mecsek is a mountain range. “Mecset” means a Mosque.) There is a good sign amidst our growing concerns! Since its erection, what must be an astronomer of theirs, they call him a moo-ze-in begins to shout at five in the morning. He might be expressing frustration because by then the moon they seem to like is not visible.
2022 05 16: Now we have Moslems living in our condominium. My wife went to ask for the recipe for “baklava”. They refused to give it to her. It was because they saw her beat a rug in the courtyard. (That way to remove dust predates vacuum cleaners.) We assured them that we have always done this. We do not use carpets for prayer, only to keep our feet from getting cold. This they refused to believe.
2024 01 08: We have removed the wall-to-wall carpets. I do not want to be assaulted because of them. Our life is becoming shittier. HBO has been proscribed. We can only receive Al Jazira 1 and Al Jazira 2.
For eight months now, my son is courting a classmate. True, he has not yet seen her face. However, her legs are terribly hairy. I am concerned.
2025 08 02: In the Capital’s zoo, “Little Raisin”, a domesticated pig, has died. This is saddening as it was the last one of the species in Europe. However, in secret, I have acquired a poster. It depicts a nice juicy pork chop.
We have discovered that “Muesli” is some priest that bellows from the Moshe so that we pray. I wonder, whether you need one in every street. Is this not exaggerated?
2027 09 02: They have released me from jail. I sat for four months because I was caught with my pork-chop poster. The only way they could be persuaded not to chop off my hand was to promise that my family and I would convert to their faith.
My son is not affected any more. After his wedding night with his wife, he escaped for Chile. The rumor is that there are still living people there the old way.
I have taken a course for muezzin training. However, since I suffer from a fear of heights, I have not received the certificate. This means that I have to continue in the shop that upgrades camel manure.
2027 11 05: Ramadan has begun in my town! We have really been anticipating that.
My daughter has married. My money was spent on the goats for the dowry. I could only afford 23 of them. As a result, my daughter is only a “wife third class”.
2028 06 02: This has been an election year. I am glad to say that we, that is, our candidate, have won. Wizer al- P’rik has become the Khadi. He is a good fellow. He has permitted the creation of a local Magyar Self Government. I am a member! As a further concession, we only have to pray in the Moshe four times a day and may even use old leopard–spotted beach towels.
2030 02 14: We have sold the family silver. We had to because my wife did not have one single decent chador to wear. According to the law, my family’s females can be put up sale; I took my mother-in-law to the market. The folks laughed at me. That left the silver. Since long, I am wearing Grandmother’s nightgown. I cover my head with an old bath towel. It is a comfortable outfit. However, the dogs keep barking at me.
2031 11 29: Chile has fallen! We do not know much about our son. According to the Red Half-Moon, he is well, but that makes me worry. We have no news about the world. Instead of a text, the papers print patterns we cannot read. The good news is that in all the 3200 settlements of our homeland there are temples. In some places, there is even more than one!
2034 12 01: Ayatollah eh-Jack has become our new Head of State. He demonstrates social sensitivity. We have time until Ramadan to move to the new Reservation created just for us. Until then we get free of charge a cream to induce browning. We do not have to learn the Koran by heart either. It suffices if we can incant it musically.
The form of government has also changed. From now on, we continue as the Mah’giar province of the Eurasian Sheikdom.
2036 02 08: On a giant projection screen, we were let to see the stone of Kaaba. However, we are not allowed to participate in the Hajj because being unreliable we might use the chance to escape. Along with the 2700 Magyars left, we have well adjusted to the Reservation. Nevertheless, even we are beginning to assimilate.
I have two grandchildren. Fatima is 8 and the little Ibrahim is five. They even know a little bit of Hungarian. My buddy’s son has become a Muezzin. He hollers from his tower like a dog with his tail caught by a closing door.
2039 09 01: A century ago, World War Two has broken out. Looking back, I realize how good we had it in those years! Resistance is growing here. We have discovered the dried out remnants of the “Friendship” oil pipeline that connected Europe and Russia. Through it, we hook up with the outside world. In the Alps there are rumored to be centers of resistance. Camels cannot cope with the snow and they die at 3500 meters. Could this be the explanation?
I have joined the newly founded Sylvester Matuska (an outlaw of the 1930s) Resistance Brigade. I already have twelve “turbans” to my credit.
2042 03 22: The rebellion is crushed. Only few hundred of us are left. I am the only one that can write because the hands of the others were chopped off. Thanks to a trick, I escaped. Dressed as a camel I slipped back unnoticed into the reservation.
Fortunately, we could rescue the women and the kids. Through the pipeline, we managed to send them to Siberia. These guys do not go there: they hate the cold.
2050, the 4th moon-month. For the last four years, all we get to eat is cuscus. It is damned bad. In addition, I have to feed those that have no hands. True, things improve as only 70 of us are left. Ayatollah Wiser al-Prik has died. Democratically, his son, al-Fallos, has succeeded him. The Sunnites will rejoice, as he hates Shiites. We affirm that even if no one cares about what we think.
2052, Ramadán: We have discovered how to make vodka out of grass. What horned oxes they are! Have they never tasted alcohol? For baklava, we give them booze. It makes them stumble. After that, they fire their guns. Fortunately, that they do that only once they get home. We have heard of disturbances, however, from here we discover nothing unusual. On the other hand, we bludgeoned the Imam to death.
2061, 8th moon-month: Supposedly, there is trouble in Eurabia. We hear that too many immigrants coming in and that they demand more rights. Who could they be? Nowadays, Hassan, -he is the one that brings us our food- is often late. He reports that the Emirs have fled. Systematically, the foreigners are undermining society. Could it be that some day we will be released? High time: only five of us are left.
2066 13th moon month: There is great silence. For days, I have not seen any Muslims. Next week, I will be a hundred years old. I would not have believed that I would live to see the day of liberation. Allah willing, I will last until then.
2066, 12 13: It is my birthday. Little yellow people have arrived. They wear fake Nike shoes and they gave us rice. They say, in case I care to live, I must convert to Buddhism. I have also received a new name. Now I am Ol-Hun.
2067, January: This is the beginning of the Year of the Monkey. This is good news, but not for me. I will be executed at dawn. My height does not fit the norm that defines the desired average. May Buddha help me in the hereafter!