Category: Uncategorized

An Evening at the Harvest Ball: Food, Music, and Memories

November 13, 2025

The challenge was figuring out what to wear to the Harvest Ball. I thought I had a sports jacket, but it wasn’t in the closet; then I remembered I’d given it to the charity store years ago. I have collared shirts and some fancy T-shirts, but the only formal wear I have is a black suit I haven’t worn in decades, and I was not sure if it still fits. The question was: What do people wear to a Ball today?

The Ball, organized by the Ottawa Hungarian House, was held at the Hungarian community hall, an informal space in an industrial building. I decided the safest thing to wear was the formal suit. But I could take off the jacket in the beginning, and with no tie and an open shirt, I would match the space’s informality.

We arrived 30 minutes early: the dinner was at 6pm. The hall was almost empty except for the organizers. There were no seating arrangements, so we picked a table on the side, next to a well-dressed woman sitting alone at the table next to us. By way of introduction, she said she was Clara and that she and her husband had come from Hungary in 1967. She spoke in Hungarian. When I said that Kathy does not speak Hungarian, she asked if she spoke English or French. When we settled on English, she said that she and her husband started a fur-making business and moved to Baie-Comeau, Quebec, in the early seventies, where the demand for furs was strong. When the local mining industry died and demand for fur declined, they moved to Ottawa. They continued making furs in their basement factory.

I went to the bar to buy a couple of glasses of wine. When I returned, a  Hungarian couple sat down at our table. His name was Zoltan, and I remarked that it was a good Hungarian name. I did not catch the wife’s name; it was getting noisy. Nokia hired Zoltan when he finished university in Hungary. After a couple of decades, Nokia transferred him to Seattle for two years, and then to Ottawa. They have been in Ottawa for a couple of years and like it here.

Zoltan’s wife was talkative and said that life is much easier here with all the appliances available, than in Hungary. I gathered they would like to stay on after their four-year work visa expires.

A huge bowl arrived at our table, filled with porkolt (pork stew). Although there were only four of us, the bowl could have served twice as many people. We served ourselves in family style. I enjoyed the porkolt, which was liquid and felt more like soup than stew. After tasting the porkolt, Zoltan’s wife thought that no real Hungarian paprika was used and that the porkolt could have been spicier. I agreed, but I enjoyed it with chunks of pork, carrots, and potatoes.

Oue Hungarian table companion serving “porkolt” family style

A couple of violinists and a bassist started playing Hungarian folk songs during the meal. The instruments reminded me of the music of Django Reinhardt – gypsy music with a swing – but these musicians played chardas, for Hungarian folk dance. People got up to dance, and soon the dance floor was packed. By now, the community hall had become extremely noisy, with over a hundred people talking, and dancing to the music. It was hard to speak and listen to our table companions.

As I have recently joined the Ottawa Hungarian House, I did not know anyone there. I have never been ethnically oriented. When we came to Canada, we were the type of immigrants who wanted to amalgamate into Canadian society. We did not live the life of the old country. And I married an American girl I met in graduate school at the University of North Carolina. We always spoke English at home, and the children grew up as native Canadians. I came to this event to hear some Hungarian spoken; I may be getting sentimental.

However, I knew some people from my high school in Hungary who studied with me at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. I heard they came to Ottawa and approached the bartender if he knew any of my old friends, the twins Kalman and Peter Roller.  

He said, “Of course, Pista Roller is sitting back there,” and he took me to him, who was not Kalman or Peter but looked like their spitting image. Pista told me there were four brothers in the family. I was shocked to hear that the twins were dead: one had brain cancer and the other dementia. One was a pharmacist doing research in China and the other worked for the National Institutes of Health in Washington, DC. I wanted to follow up on this information and asked for his phone number to arrange for a get together.

Dessert came when I got back to my table. It was a caramelized pastry in the shape of a tube, four inches in diameter, and eight inches tall. I looked inside, thinking that there was some cream or fruit there. No, there was nothing inside; you ate the tube. The Hungarian couple explained that you tear a piece off with your hand, eat it, then keep tearing it apart and eating it. It is called kurtoskalach (chimney cake) and is a popular Hungarian dessert.

Chimney cake

It was an enjoyable evening of contrasts, combining ethnic foods, music, and dancing with people reading their iPhones and speaking English. The evening brought up memories. I described to our tablemates how we escaped from Hungary during the Hungarian Uprising of 1956. Our table companions who came to Canada two years ago acted like Canadians their age. And the Hungarians who came out decades ago enjoyed reliving the music and food of the time they left Hungary.

Forest Bathing 101: How to Connect with Nature

November 7, 2025

Dana Milbank’s recent Washington Post article about forest bathing caught my attention. Forest bathing is like a walk in the park, but with a focus on the forest’s sights, sounds, and smells. Forest bathing, a trend originating in Japan in the late 1800s known as shinrin-yoku, is spreading in the U.S. The Harvard Medical School even offers a course on it for its overworked residents, highlighting its significance.

Forest bathing involves taking a leisurely walk in a forest while disconnecting from digital devices and focusing on sensory experiences. It includes stopping to contemplate your surroundings and even taking off your shoes to feel the ground beneath you. Engaging in conversations with trees and plants is also part of the experience. The walk can last anywhere from an hour to a few hours, and the beneficial effects can last for days or weeks.

According to enthusiasts, the benefits include improving the immune system, lowering blood pressure, promoting relaxation, and enhancing sleep. Walking among trees allows you to breathe in tree oils known as phytoncides and plant compounds called terpenes. Studies suggest that these chemicals may help prevent cancer and protect against dementia. While I’m not entirely convinced of all the claims, this information has inspired me to give forest bathing a try.

I visited the paths behind Ottawa’s Sportsplex. I strolled at a leisurely pace of three kilometers per hour (about two miles per hour), fully engaging my senses. I could hear airplanes flying overhead and the sounds of traffic from the major roads surrounding the park. The traffic noise was quite noticeable, especially since there were no leaves on the trees to act as a buffer. I did hear leaves falling, but I didn’t hear any birds singing; they must have flown south for the winter, as it is November.

As I looked around, I noticed the attractive tapestry of leaves on the ground. Many trees lay on the ground, some having fallen during windstorms and others cut down to clear pathways. Many fellow walkers, some with their dogs, greeted me and engaged in conversations.

The ground felt soft beneath my feet, and I could feel the wind gently brushing against my face. The bark of the trees felt cold to my touch. Apart from a few dogs licking my hands, I didn’t experience other tactile sensations.

I decided to slow down even more and took a break, sitting on a fallen log. I attempted to meditate but was unsuccessful: as people walked by, they would say hello, and I felt compelled to respond. I could use some guidance on how to engage more deeply with nature and avoid distractions to fully benefit from walking in the forest.

On the internet, I searched for “forest bathing near me.” I found a company advertising a forest bathing walk in Arnprior, a community sixty kilometers from my home, scheduled for next week. The registration cost was $40 for a three-hour guided walk, which was worth it. However, I couldn’t find an online registration page, so I emailed to request a spot.

A few days later, I received a response informing me that the guide was sick, and the walk had been canceled. Another company advertised various activities, such as dancing, meditation, and yoga, in addition to forest bathing. However, their leader was in India and, according to the website, was “locked up” in a happy state.

While browsing online, I came across the Arizona organization that certifies people as forest bathing guides. Lucky for me, they had a scheduled Zoom session just a few days later, so I quickly registered. However, I was disappointed when I listened to the meeting; it wasn’t what I had expected; it was a sales pitch for a course.

On the Zoom call, two forest bathing practitioners presented information about a training course for becoming a certified guide. One practitioner spoke from Boston, and the other from Portugal. The six-month online course is priced at over US$3,000, with an extra US$500 required for a one-week on-site training.  Instead of a commercial for a training course, I had hoped for hands-on instruction on how to conduct a forest bathing walk.

I have always enjoyed the outdoors for many activities, including walking. With friends, we walked the Chilkoot Trail, the Camino Santiago, and other trails. Still, I was not aware of forest bathing at that time and paid less attention to sensory experiences. But walking in nature has some challenges. Let me give some examples.

While walking under the foliage of giant maple trees at our cottage a few years ago, I stumbled upon a ball made of leaves and small twigs on the ground. When I picked it up to examine it, an army of wasps came buzzing around my face. I quickly ran back to the cottage to escape them. Subsequently, I received shots for several years to immunize myself.

By some stroke of luck, I’ve attracted ticks at the cottage two years ago. I was treated for Lyme disease with doxycycline for four weeks. This year, I’ve become popular with ticks again and ended up contracting another illness spread by ticks, called anaplasmosis, which put me in a hospital for four days. Again, I was treated with doxycycline.

I’m not suggesting that the outdoors is so dangerous that it should be avoided, but that there are hazards to be aware of. Given the years I’ve spent hiking in the forest and enjoying the outdoors, these misadventures feel like brief moments. So, by all means, go into the forest and enjoy walking.

The literature I’ve read on forest bathing advises disconnecting from urban life, embracing the outdoors, and living in the present moment. The practice of forest bathing encourages slowing down—rather than walking briskly to reach a destination, meander and explore unknown paths, and discover nature through your senses. Although my experience indicates that, depending on the season, one should combine DEET bathing with forest bathing.

I found that forest bathing is more challenging in practice than it is in theory. Letting go of your thoughts on daily life can be difficult, as is avoiding distractions from others you may encounter, or pausing conversations with a companion, while walking. It’s best to go alone at times when there aren’t many dog walkers in the park.

Reflections on the 1956 Hungarian Uprising Remembrance

October 28, 2025

This week, I attended a flag-raising ceremony commemorating the sixty-ninth anniversary of the Hungarian uprising of October 23, 1956, at Ottawa City Hall. I looked forward to meeting some grey-haired Hungarian refugees, with whom I could make contact, talk about the old country, and share our experiences in Canada.

About fifty people showed up for the ceremony. I did hear a few people speaking Hungarian, chatting in small groups. They seemed happy to talk with each other. I went by myself, looking for some social interaction and discussion. Still, nobody seemed interested in making contact, even though I walked around and tried to break into conversations.  

When I found a young fellow standing by himself, I asked him if he was Hungarian. To my surprise, he said he was an RCMP officer. I wondered if he was on an assignment to ensure security at the event, requested because staff from the Hungarian Embassy and other diplomats were in attendance. the event organizers.

Another person I approached was a black woman who, with a friendly smile, explained  with a friendly smile that she was with the Nigerian Embassy and had been invited to this event. I found myself confused; while I understood the logic behind inviting certain European nations, I questioned the inclusion of African countries. Nevertheless, she was charming, and we talked about Africa and my trip to Tanzania.  

Although the flag-raising was outside, due to inclement weather, the group moved to City Hall first to listen to the speeches by the dignitaries. The small conference room inside was insufficient to seat everyone, so I stood in the hallway listening to the speakers.

The Deputy Mayor, Sean Devine, who, by the way, is my local City Councilor, opened the ceremony. He paid tribute to the courageous Hungarians who perished during the 1956 uprising and commented on the contributions the refugees made to Canada. Although Sean did not mention it, well-known people such as Anna Porter, a writer and publisher, and Robert Lantos, a film director, were fifty-sixers, among others.

Ms. Katalin Haas, Charge d’Affaires at the Hungarian Embassy, spoke about the significance of the 1956 rebellion and invited representatives of the Canada-Hungary Parliamentary Friendship Group and a representative of Global Affairs Canada to speak.

Many speakers mentioned the 38,000 people who arrived in Canada after the uprising looking for freedom and dignity and the over 300,000 people of Hungarian descent now residing here. All the speakers emphasized the Hungarian people’s desire for freedom and dignity.  

Adam van Koeverdan, Co-Chair of the Canada-Hungary Friendship Group, spoke about his mother, who escaped Hungary during the uprising. That made me feel old. I was sixteen years old when I fled Hungary, and he was talking about his mother! Further indicating my age was a group of young people talking about being fourth-generation Hungarians. I felt ancient by that time.

The speeches were well delivered but seemed hollow to me, as the speakers lacked a fundamental understanding of the nature of life in Hungary in the 1950s that sparked the rebellion. None of the speakers had firsthand experience of life in Hungary at the time of the rebellion. The speakers’ comments were sincere but lacked the emotional gravity that people with direct experience could have brought.

For example, I remember when our neighbor in the apartment house where we lived disappeared one night, and nobody said anything about it. Nobody raised any questions. Or when my father, a medical doctor, was called many nights to patch up people caught trying to break through the Iron Curtain or swim across Lake Ferto. Or when my brother, a student in Budapest, walked home to Sopron, a distance of 200 kilometers, when the revolution broke out. During the uprising, the absence of cell phones or live communication made it difficult to receive updates from him for several days. This lack of information caused considerable concern among our family about his safety. The family feared the worst. After coming home from school one day, our mother told Peter and me to set off along the highway to Vienna, each of us carrying a sandwich in our backpacks, a memory that has stayed with me ever since.  

I thought that a few refugees talking about their escape, or a film showing the tanks in Budapet crawling with students during the uprising, would have been relevant and impactful. However, I recognise that the objective of the ceremony was to honour those who lost their lives, rather than revisit the events of the uprising. Those people attending who were old enough to witness the rebellion personally may not have felt completely satisfied. I wondered, how many of us oldtimers attended?

Jazz Memories: My Journey with Oscar Peterson’s Music

October 17, 2025

My son reminded me of a time when, after dinner, I lay down on the couch, closed my eyes, and listened to Oscar Peterson as loudly as the family could tolerate. Oscar Peterson has always been my favorite jazz pianist. In my youth, I enjoyed listening to my mother play jazz: she had a perfect ear and could play any song without sheet music, picking out chords as she went along. Perhaps because of her influence, I started playing the piano at an early age and continued until I rebelled in my early teens against the long practice sessions. This background helps explain my passion for jazz piano. In my opinion, as a jazz pianist, Oscar Peterson is unmatched, even when compared to greats like Ramsey Lewis, Ahmad Jamal, or Art Tatum.

Oscar Peterson’s fame is indeed global. He won eight Grammy Awards and collaborated with legends like Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, and Nat King Cole. He also received the Order of Canada, among many other accolades. His success is especially inspiring considering he grew up in Little Burgundy, a predominantly Black neighborhood in Montreal, where racism was alive. His father worked as a porter and a sleeping car attendant for Canadian Pacific Railways (CPR). However, he was also a musician who encouraged his children to pursue music.

Oscar displayed his talent for the piano from an early age. He studied under Paul de Marky, a Hungarian classical pianist who had studied with Stephan Thoman, a pupil of Franz Liszt. Although he initially showed an interest in classical piano, Oscar’s musical path evolved significantly early in his life. He played in jazz clubs in Montreal as a teenager and later performed at Carnegie Hall in New York in 1929 when he was twenty-four years old. Over his lifetime, he recorded around two hundred albums before passing away in 2007.

I remember seeing Oscar Peterson perform at Norfolk State College in 1968. He played spirituals to an all-black audience—we were the only white folks at the college. I had a job in Norfolk, VA, but I was mostly ignorant of the racial issues in the United States at the time. When we entered the auditorium and realized we were the only white people there, we felt a bit out of place. However, the audience was enthusiastic, wholly immersed in the music, and ignored us. The auditorium seemed to come alive with people stomping their feet and clapping to the rhythm.

While in Norfolk, I cannot forget the time when I played some Oscar Peterson music at full blast, and a black pastor knocked on my door looking for donations. The first thing he said was that I was listening to some great music. Naturally, I gave him a large donation.

When the announcement was made that the Oscar Peterson Centennial Quartet would be performing at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa, I quickly purchased tickets. I wasn’t familiar with the Quartet, but I assumed they would play Oscar Peterson’s music. I was particularly eager to hear the pianist, even though I knew that no one could match Oscar’s virtuosity.

In honor of Oscar’s 100th birthday, the Centennial Quartet was formed this year. The organizers assembled a group of accomplished musicians for the Quartet. The performance we attended featured Ulf Wakenius on guitar, who had played with Peterson for ten years, from 1997 until Oscar’s passing. On piano was Robi Botos, a former student of Oscar’s in Toronto. The drummer, Tom Doxas, and bassist, Mike Downes, are both well-known figures in the Canadian jazz scene. The Quartet is touring globally, and while the musicians may change depending on the venue, the music remains consistent.

Upon arriving at the theater, we were treated to a multimedia presentation of Oscar’s life on a giant screen above the stage. Then, Celine Peterson, Oscar’s youngest daughter, took the stage to share anecdotes about her father. The concert began with Celine introducing the drummer, who performed a quiet drum solo. The bassist was introduced next and joined the drummer in a soft swing while Celine continued speaking. Following them, the guitarist and pianist joined in, and the Quartet launched into one of Oscar’s compositions, “Night Train,” apparently inspired by the composer’s father’s work as a sleeping car attendant for the CPR.

The Quartet’s interpretations of Peterson’s compositions, including “Hymn to Freedom,” “Cakewalk,” and “Place St. Henry,” were met with enthusiasm and loud applause. In addition to these pieces, the Quartet also performed popular classics like “Sophisticated Lady,” a composition by Duke Ellington, and others. The audience’s warm reception was so overwhelming that after finishing their set, the Quartet had to perform an encore to calm the audience’s applause. I was bobbing my head and stomping my foot to the rhythm throughout the concert. As the smiling crowd exited the auditorium, I stopped at a table in the lobby to browse the CDs for sale by members of the Centennial Quartet. I decided to buy one—the one featuring pianist Roby Botos—hoping to enjoy jazz piano in the style of Oscar Peterson. And as soon as we entered our house, I started playing all of my Peterson’s CDs.

Residents Voice Concerns at Fisher Heights Community Meeting

October 12, 2025

The Annual General Meeting of the Fisher Heights and Area Community Association turned into a session filled with complaints. Though the term “bitch session” might seem harsh, it accurately described the atmosphere.

The President began the meeting by summarizing the association’s events from the past year and spent about ten minutes reviewing the financial statements. After that, he opened the floor for discussion, with the local City Councilor present at the head table.

The first concern raised by a resident, amid the mostly grey-haired and entirely white attendees, was the rat population thriving in his home. Many others joined in, revealing that the area is facing a significant rat problem. I recalled that this same issue was discussed last year, with residents blaming the increase in rats on the construction of the Light Rail Transit (LRT) system downtown. The excavation for the underground rail disturbed the rats, causing them to migrate into the suburbs—specifically, into our neighborhood. No solutions were proposed last year, and using poison was deemed not an option since children lived in the rat-infested area.

 Our councilor addressed the discussion by explaining that the city is taking the rat issue seriously and has started mapping the geographic areas where rats thrive. Residents are encouraged to report any rat sightings in their homes to the city. The councilor also mentioned that a rat committee has been established, and a dedicated section about this issue has been created on the city’s website.

Additionally, the councilor advised us that rats tend to flourish in “messy woodpiles,” “overgrown grass,” and “compost bins.” He urged residents to clean up their woodpiles, maintain their lawns, and consider limiting or discontinuing composting altogether. While this advice is practical, it may not be well-received by those who enjoy composting. Although the information provided was helpful, it remains unclear how these measures will effectively improve the situation in our community.

The discussion then shifted to parking problems in the community. Residents voiced strong objections to having parked cars in front of their homes, even when those vehicles were on public streets. Their concerns appeared to arise from a desire to prevent strangers from parking near their houses. This situation raised questions about whether their objections were related to safety, the aesthetic appeal of the neighborhood, or simply a feeling of ownership over the street in front of their homes.

In response, our councilor suggested that larger households in our area were contributing to this issue. This statement was surprising, as our community has been aging, resulting in fewer children. So, where are all these new residents coming from? One possibility is that the rental complex in our area has begun charging for visitor parking, which forces guests to park on public streets. Others pointed out that many young adults are staying at home with their parents because they cannot afford to buy their own homes. The councilor also noted that redevelopment in the area has led to higher housing densities, resulting in more households in the community and, consequently, more cars on the streets.

Many audience members asked why the city cannot install more no-parking signs. The councilor explained that no-parking signs are placed only in areas where intersections create dangerous driving conditions. In these instances, people often find alternative parking spots elsewhere in the neighborhood, which means the identified parking issue is simply shifted to another location. This approach hardly resolves the problem!

Additionally, parking is becoming a bigger issue due to the new zoning bylaw, which reflects the city’s growing population. The city council views densification as the only solution, aside from an unlikely massive investment in public transit. Ultimately, higher population densities will lead to more cars on the streets.

Another topic discussed was the overflowing garbage bins in city parks. Since we have curbside garbage pickup, someone asked why the garbage truck doesn’t also empty the garbage containers in the parks when it passes by. The councilor explained that this is more complicated because the public works and parks departments use different contractors for garbage collection. Could better coordination between the two departments improve efficiency and reduce costs? I wondered if the councilor would consider taking this suggestion back to the city for further discussion.

Continuing on the topic of our parks, someone raised a concern about the absence of no-smoking signs in these areas. This individual observed people smoking cannabis in public spaces—likely due to the smell—where young school children walk. I thought we had already implemented a bylaw regarding this. The councilor responded by discussing the challenges of enforcing a no-smoking bylaw in city parks. He mentioned a shortage of bylaw enforcement officers and indicated that enforcing such a bylaw was not a top priority. Additionally, the potential revenue from this bylaw would be minimal compared to the significantly more profitable option of ticketing for illegal parking.

Another individual complained about loud construction noises at night. A construction company working on a high-rise building accidentally damaged a water pipe, necessitating emergency repairs overnight. The infrastructure maps provided by the city to the company failed to mark the location of this major water pipe, which supplied water to a nearby dialysis clinic. Restoring the water supply became urgent.

The person who raised the noise complaint stated that she was not concerned about the work at the dialysis clinic; rather, she objected to the nighttime noise, which deprived her of sleep. This comment troubled me, not only because of her lack of understanding of the situations that can arise on construction sites, but also due to her apparent lack of compassion for the patients at the dialysis clinic. To compound her complaint, she asked if the contractor was fined for breaking the water pipe. My goodness! It was an accident! Moreover, it was the city that provided an outdated map. Should the city fine itself for that?Continuing on the topic of our parks, someone asked why there are no no-smoking signs in these areas. This individual observed people smoking cannabis in public spaces (I assume he noticed it by the smell) where young school children walk. I thought we already had such a bylaw. The councilor addressed the topic by discussing the challenges of enforcing a no-smoking bylaw in city parks. He mentioned the shortage of bylaw enforcement officers. He indicated that enforcing such a bylaw would not be a top priority. Additionally, the potential revenue generated from implementing this bylaw would be minimal compared to the significantly more profitable option of ticketing people for parking illegally.

Still another person complained about loud construction noises at night. A construction company working on a high-rise building accidentally damaged a water pipe, necessitating emergency repairs overnight. The infrastructure maps provided by the city to the company failed to mark the location of a major water pipe. Since this pipe supplied water to a nearby dialysis clinic, restoring the water supply became an urgent matter.

The person who raised the noise issue stated that she was not concerned about the work at the dialysis clinic; instead, she objected to the nighttime noise, which deprived her of sleep. This comment troubled me not only because of the lack of understanding for a situation that is likely to occur on construction sites, but also due to her apparent lack of compassion for the patients at the dialysis clinic. To compound her complaint, she asked if the contractor was fined for breaking the water pipe. My goodness! It was an accident! Moreover, it was the city that provided an outdated map. Should the city fine itself for that?

At that point, I had reached my limit with the complaints and decided to leave the meeting. I found myself questioning the positive actions the association had taken over the past year. I heard that they had painted some lines on a basketball court, replaced the flooring in the community center, and allocated funds for a bicycle repair station in one of the parks. They also organized several community events, including this meeting, where residents could voice their concerns and speak with our councilor. While these are positive steps, I wondered if they were sufficient to justify the existence of a community association.

As I drove home, I realized that the meeting did not address the various clubs the association sponsors, such as a bridge club and fitness classes in the community center. Including presentations from these clubs could have been beneficial, as it might have encouraged more people to participate in the association’s activities. I also questioned the absence of a proposed budget outlining the association’s priorities for the upcoming year. I left the meeting feeling that it was a missed opportunity to make the association more relevant to the community. Overall, I don’t think our community has any significant issues at this time.