This is the first attempt to post a video on this site and I am not really sure how it is going to work. In any case, Maia is running around the living room at our current home in Milton Keynes, until... she is suddenly on the floor crying, but not for long. Ivan also appears by the end. To watch video on YouTube click .

Indeed, we have moved, the entire family. We are now based in a new country: England, in a small house in Milton Keynes where the Open University is. I will be making a PhD at the Geography discipline of the Faculty of Social Sciences here for the coming 3 years or so.
It still feels surprising for us, although we have been thinking and preparing already for months. We made a deliberate decision with Emese to move out - both of us felt that we need to move on from Hungary. Without this support from Emese I would not have been able to leave Budapest and do this PhD.
It was a difficult decision to make. Life had turned out quite comfortable in Budapest lately. We love our new flat in the feet of the Buda Castle which we just renovated. Maia was attending a nursery, just 10 minutes walk from home up the hill, and everything was within reach, and affordable. And, with Ivan's arrival, it was not easy to think of leaving all this behind.
But we were both committed to make a change, and eager to try something new. It is a matter of how you feel, I guess: whether you have reached a place in your life where you want to stay, or you fancy seeing more new things. And, as said earlier, it is a common decision to be made within the family.
We thought we'd better do it now, before our children are in school age, which would make future relocations even more difficult. And, on the positive side, they shall learn proper English.
There were some other important factors that made the change possible. First, the opportunity for me to undertake doctoral research at the Open University, in the field in which I am interested and have spent over 10 years working in: media and environment. I knew one of my supervisors-to-be since 2000 - Dr Joe Smith, and had established a good personal and professional relationship with him. The Open University offered me a paid studentship - which provides us with a narrow but solid financial basis for the first year, when Emese will be staying home with Ivan.
Further, Emese's job allows her to transfer to a job in the UK - either within the same company, or with a different one. So we are not exactly jumping into the unknown, in financial and job terms. The university policy also allows me to work for about 6 hours a week: a chance for me to make some extra money on top of the studentship. My previous experience gives me enough confidence that I will be able to use this opportunity.
Not least, during my 4 days visit to Milton Keynes in the summer I was lucky to get in touch with a fellow Bulgarian, Antoan, who was looking to rent his house, in the close distance of the university. Untypical for the UK, his house is furnished, so all we needed to do was sit on a plane with Emese and the two kids and arrive here on October 1 when the school year opened. The rest of our luggage followed, transported by a small non-expensive company which Emese had discovered in the Express newspaper.
Having written all that, the entire move involved a lot of stress and inconvenience. We were very worried how Maia would take the departure from the nursery and the other kids she was used to play with in Buda. We were relieved to see that she actually did not mind the change much, as she was happy to spend her days with Emese and myself. And obviously change does not disturb her too much - she is our daughter after all
A final point: the major load and pressure, caused by this relocation, was on Emese. Just days after giving birth she was running around and making phone calls to arrange things and papers. Then she did a major part of the packing. Here in the UK she is with the two kids in a new environment, when we still have to learn and arrange many things.
Now that it is all done, I feel very good about the entire thing. I would encourage anyone who hesitates to try it. It is fun, energising, and feels like we are doing something good together - a very reinforcing feeling for a relationship

Дойде време да се разделим с Будапеща. От 1 октомври 2008 започвам докторантура в Open University - Открития университет, който се намира в гр. Милтън Кийнс, Англия. По тази причина цялото семейство заминаваме да живеем в Обединеното кралство. Разбира се, решението за това начинание бе взето преди месеци - още през февруари, докато бяхме на ски в Пирин, подадох кандидатура за стипендия. Емеше ме насърчи и каза, че е готова да се преместим. Това беше може би най-важната предпоставка. След това се започна чакането - да ме приемат, да ми потвърдят стипендията, да ги посетя в Англия, да се роди детето, да уведомя ръководството на РЕК. И така, до вчера, когато събрахме приятели и колеги у нас за да "затоплим" новия апартамент и да отпразнуваме заминаването. Предния ден бяхме опаковали и изнесли 87 парчета багаж - кашони, пакети и кутии, които бидоха натоварени и извозени за Англия. Ще ни чакат там. А тук, в Будапеща, оставяме току що завършения си нов апартамент, много спомени, и по десетина години от животите си.

Cumi is the Hungarian for a pacifier: the major difference between Ivan, and Maia so far. Two years ago we were convinced that the baby should not use a pacifier. As a result Maia received a lot of dancing, walking, and other sorts of treatment. But most of all, she was spending her time on Emese's breasts. Ivan is a different case - or, rather, we are a different case. On the Saturday when Emese arrived home with him from the hospital I went out shopping, and among other baby things, like his bed, I returned with two pacifiers. That same evening I realized the comfort of sticking one of them into his mouth - he would immediately start sucking it, stop crying, and soon, fall asleep.
We have been using the cumi since then pretty regularly. Of course we are aware that it would be very difficult to get rid of it later. That is why Emese suggested a compromise programme: he only gets it in the evening, before falling asleep, when he is not hungry anymore but wants to continue sucking for a few more minutes. Then he falls asleep and drops it from his mouth.
In theory this works out fine, but in practice the cumi ends up being used more often. For example whenever we are having dinner or lunch and Ivan starts crying - which, strangely, happens quite regularly, as if he is complaining about being left out - he gets the cumi to shut up and let us finish our meal. But there seems to be consensus in the family, that the pacifier is a bad thing and should be made redundant. Time will show.

Тази събота проведохме първата музикална вечер в новия ни апартамент. Вечерта пристигнаха колегата ми от РЕК Грег и сладкопойната му жена Кристин, Душан, също колега, заедно с Ивона - и двамата са ни стари приятели от Централно Европейския Университет, а като гост звезда се появи и Габор, с когото свирим и работим заедно от 1996 г. насам. По-късно вечерта се появи и Цветелина, заедно с напредналия си вече предродилен корем - и се присъедини към песните.
Не ще и дума, от момента, в който пристигнаха гостите, Майа загуби всякакъв интерес към кревата си. В това отношение май се е метнала на татко си - не пропуска купон.
Музикалният ансамбъл беше в следния състав: Грег - бас китара, Душан - соло акустична китара, Кристин - вокал /и то какъв/, Ивона, Емеше и Цвете, вокали и перкусии /разполагаме с достатъчно дайрета, маракаси и етиопски тъпани/, Габор - кларинет, и Павел - ритъм китара и вокал. След кратко похапване на пъпеш, плодове и избрани сирена, около 9 вечерта музиката засвири. И не спря до един и половина. По моя скромна преценка докарахме добър саунд, надявам се и съседите да мислят така. Всъщност, Емеше ги попитала да следващия ден и те любезно потвърдили, че "музиката се чуваше добре". Милите, това им беше май първият уикенд след като се нанесоха заедно с двете си хлапета, които от горе на всичко следват в една и съща ясла с Майа - дано не сме ги уплашили много.
Като стана дума за Майа, забележително е магнетичното - и малко паралитично - въздействие на музиката върху нея. От момента в който засвирихме и запяхме, малката седна до Емеше и заслуша със широко отворени очи. И остана така, без да пророни дума, докато около час по-късно очите й не се затвориха внезапно и тя заспа. Бях забелязал същия ефект преди година, когато в подобен състав свирихме на ул. "Виадор". Явно пеенето и танците с нея от първия й ден дават резултат.
Иван, на свой ред, просто си остана в съвсем нормалното за възрастта му заспало състояние. Важно е, че не проплака и не потърси внимание през цялата вечер, което също говори за добра толерантност към музика. Но, в интерес на истината, Емеше често ме упреква, че не танцувам с него както го правех с Майа. Отговарям й, че той е мъж и тя трябва да танцува с него.
Снимките от събитието са тук.

It is not easy to describe the personality of someone, particularly if you know him only for a little more than 2 weeks. On the other hand I can say I know Ivan for his entire life now, so I can share some observations. Not sure whether it is him or us mostly, but it feels much more relaxed with him. Apparently the second child syndrome works perfectly well with us: we are much less concerned, much less careful, and much less stressed out than we used to be with Maia. Maia, I have to point out, was never a difficult child. But we were so unaware what to do and how, that we probably made her cry much more. By not giving her a pacifier, to begin with. Ivan gets one immediately after milk is over, and seems to like chewing it while staring at interesting objects with his slightly unfocused eyes.
But I am certain that there is a great deal of himself being calm and quiet. One thing that is really important for him is to know that there is someone around. But if he feels a touch, hears a voice, or sees a moving silhouette, he immediately relaxes and gets obviously happy. That is of course if he is not hungry. Emese's constant presence is probably the greatest thing for him these days. In some of the first evenings I used to take him over with me in the living room and put him to sleep on my lap or on the sofa. But he learned to sleep overnight so quick that there is no need to do this anymore. He simply sleeps in his bed now, and lets Emese know when time has come for food.

We were not sure until pretty much the last moment whether and how we should celebrate Maia's second birthday. But the warm weather and the fact that we were out in the Vermezo park with Ivan in the pram every afternoon anyway gave us an idea. So the invitation was mailed out in the beginning of the week, and I posted a note in Maia's nursery room, inviting her class-mates and their parents to a playground party on Sunday.
Already on Friday we took a cake to the nursery and the candle, shaped as a 2. Maia said they had fun and she blew the candle. And so did Kopan, she said. Kopan is the name of a boy in the group - a very ancient name, Emese claims. So apparently Kopan and Maia celebrated together.
Anyway, Sunday came soon. In the morning we went with Emese to the market on Csengery utca and baught fruits and other delicious things. Emese had already purchased the cake and pogacsa from Daubner. In the end I forgot to boil the corn I had prepared, so it stayed home to be enjoyed later.
When we arrived to the playground Rachel was already there with Anna. Pictures of them, as well as most other guests and friends are posted here. So click and take a look. It came out as a nice party, with a nice mixture of friends from REC and around, Emese's Vojvodians, and some of Maia's best friends: the twins Botond and Balint, and Sophia, accompanied by their moms. Most kids were within the same age group - between 1 and 3, and had a lot of fun in the sand and with the swings and toys. Of course Maia loved receiving so many presents and eating delicious things, drinking juice without limit, and playing with so many kids. In the evening she told me it was "nice" and asked if she could have another party tomorrow.

Until recently I was eagerly telling everyone interested that so far the fact that we are not married with Emese has not brought any trouble to us. Well, that was wrong. I simply never understood well the reason why we had to wait for over a month to get Maia's birth certificate issued back in 2006. Neither did Emese, apparently, as she had told me the reason for the delay was that both of us were foreigners - which indeed was the case back then.
With Emese having obtained Hungarian citizenship and Bulgaria having joined the EU in the meantime, I was ready to fight for a speedy issuing of Ivan's birth cetificate when I went to the local municipality's office of Budapest's seventh district last Wednesday. And there the truth came out crystal clear: the reason for making us wait was not our foreign passports but, rather, the fact that we are not married.
I may have told earlier in this page how proud I felt signing a special declaration that acknowledges my paternity over my expected children. I did it for Maia two years ago, and for Ivan, back in June. The ceremony was quite formal, I needed to bring over Emese, as the expectant mother to confirm my claim, as well as an independent translator, to confirm that I understand what I am signing. The independent translator last time was Fiduzs. We went together the five of us - as I had decided to bring over my mom and Maia - in a pouring rain up to the first district's municipal ritual hall, up in the castle. Having been through this process, and holding the official certificate of paternity (which, by the way, needs to be signed prior to the child's birth in order to be valid I was told by Emese) had made me believe that all is settled between me and the Hungarian law.
But as the registry officer explained to Emese on the phone, while I was sitting in front of her with this and other papers certifying Ivan's birth, a detailed check was still necessary before his birth certificate would be issued. And the check would take about 30 days. I protested energetically that they should not be segregating me as a EU citizen, to which she apologetically explained that it is not about me being Bulgarian, it is about me being not married for Emese that causes the delay.
Even though I was caught by surprise (and so was Emese) by this twist of faith, I still argued that this is our second child in a raw, and if they already took a month to check us for the first one, why would they need a month for the second one as well. The woman at the desk was very sympathetic and promised to argue may case. She also gave me a phone in the office in question - a weird place, which I could translate as the National Registration Office - where I could check things myself next week. My experience with this office in the summer, when we needed to get registered there as owners of our newly bought flat, was that they are very kind and willing to help, as soon as a non-Hungarian speaking foreigner with a baby in his hands walks into their office. So, should need be, I will try the same trick on them next week.

It is hard to believe, that corporations have chosen the Medical University hospital to give three times more gifts to newborns than in Uzsoki. So the only other logical explanation is that the amount of corporate pressure has tripled over the past two years. Indeed, unlike Maia's one bag of presents, Ivan received three. It was of course his mom who signed the small questionnaires and received the packages. The content was diverse, naturally aimed to introduce some products to the new mothers. Few of the samples we found useful and kept, the rest found its way straight into the recycling bin. But again I had the bitter taste in my mouth - convinced more than ever that consumption is not the source of ever-lasting happiness and endless economic growth, as they still try to convince us.

Едно от преимуществата да се раждат деца в началото на Август е, че времето навън е почти толкова топло, колкото и в майчината утроба. В случая с Иван беше точно така - в деня, когато се роди, термометрите превишиха 35 по Целзий. След това милостиво паднаха с десетина градуса, точно през уикенда, когато Иван и Емеше си дойдоха в къщи. Оттогава цари едно приятно лятно време, което Емеше днес определи така:
- Навън е по-топло отколкото в къщи.
В резултат решихме да направим първата разходка с Иван на открито. Сложихме му шапчица, да не стане грешка, и го завихме в обичайното му юрганче, което не е от най-дебелите.
Съвсем удобно, предния ден бях получил от колежката ми Рейчъл количка за Иван. Английска, на три колелета, с гуми, които се надуват с помпа и много много лесна за управление. Положихме Иван в нея и се спуснахме със старовремския ни асансьор. После по познатия на Майа и всички ни маршрут до парка, където Майа потъна в любимите си пясъчни развлечения. Стояхме повече от половин час, през който Иван спа непробудно и доста сладко, под шума на един грамаден лешник, който се надвесва точно над пясъчника. Ако не съм споменал, засега синът ни демонстрира доста сововско поведение, да не кажа вампирско - спи по цял ден а нощем будува. Единственото разнообразие в живота му носи смученето - засега на майчино мляко.
На тази снимка Майа позира с Емеше и една от любимите си приятелки от яслата - Панка. Панка е кротко и усмихнато дете, което почти всеки ден играе в градинката на Вермезо с по-голямото си братче, под надзора на много млада бавачка. Този ден Майа доведе Панка за ръка да й покаже новородения си брат Иван.

Емеше започна да подготвя Майа за предстоящата поява на брат й още при първите признаци на уголемяване. Така за последните месеци Майа се научи да гали корема на майка си, да говори на "бебето вътре", да му се радва. От време на време коремът отнасяше и по някой ритник, но по-скоро от невнимание или изблик на енергия отколкото като проява на агресия. Все пак въпросът оставаше отворен: как ще реагира Майа при срещата с новороденото?
Вечерта след раждането на Иван прекарахме двамата с Майа, взех я от яслата и отидохме на люлките в близкия парк Вермезо. Разказах й, че бебето е "излязло от корема на Емеше". Даваше вид, че разбира, но по нищо не можех да съдя как приема новината.
На следващия ден към обяд най-после стигнахме до болницата. Срещата между брата и сестрата беше много приятелска, най-вече от страна на Майа. Тя веднага налетя да гали пипа бебето, за наш тих ужас, очевидно с най-добри намерения. После натика главата си до него и аз затреперих в очакване Иван всеки момент да й бръкне в някое око с острите си ноктенца.
Междувременно, Емеше бе подготвила една чудесна книжка с картинки, която поднесе на Майа като подарък от Иван. Щерка ни определено се зарадва и до ден днешен разглежда "Ивановата книга".
Имаше един изблик на ревност когато аз взех Иван в ръцете си и започнах да му говоря. Майа се натъжи, сгуши се в Емеше и каза през сълзи, че Павел е "нейният татко". Бях виждал подобна реакция седмица по-рано, когато една от нейните съученички от яслата се настани в скута ми и Майа я бутна доста безцеремонно. Затова този път бързо предадох Иван в сигурните ръце на Емеше.
Оттогава имахме няколко разговора с Майа, в които и разяснявахме, че Иван също е наше дете и нейн брат. Тя дава вид че разбира.
Истината е, че през по-голямята част от времето Майа обожава Иван. Гали го, говори му, даже му изпя песен. Когато в понеделник Емеше я попита кой е любимият и приятел в яслата, тя без колебание рече "Иван". Така че засега не можем да се оплачем. Предупредени сме, че трудностите започват, когато малкият поиска да играе с играчките на Майа, но тогава ще му мислим.

As soon as her belly started growing, Emese began preparing Maia for the arrival of her brother. We had read and heard many stories of jealousy and competition between siblings and wanted to prepare. So for months Maia had been caressing Emese's belly and kissing "the baby inside", talking to him sometimes. Every now and then Emese would receive a kick in it of course, but we never had the feeling Maia was aggressive or unhappy about the baby. But the question remained until Ivan actually showed up.
When I first took Maia to the hospital to meet Ivan, I told her on the way that the baby has "come out of Emese" and is waiting to see her. It was difficult to judge how much of this she understood. Their meeting was very cordial, Maia got very excited about the baby and wanted to caress him and touch him all the time - quite scary looking attempts, but well intentioned for sure. Then, to our surprise, she touched Emese's leftover belly and started talking and caressing it as she did before the birth. She did this again and again several times before Emese's explanations that the baby is "no longer inside" reached her mind. Even now, a week later, she keeps her old habit of caressing Emese's belly.
Emese had prepared a nice book with animal pictures which Maia received as a present from Ivan at their first meeting. She now refers to it as the book from Ivan, and really likes it.
There were some moments of jealousy - the first and most heated one when she saw me holding Ivan in my hands and talking to him. Maia then started crying and told Emese that I am "her father". Since then she seems to have accepted the explanation that I am also the father of Ivan, as Emese is his mother as well as hers.
But the predominant feeling she expresses for Ivan so far is adoration. She likes to hold him and caress him. She wants him to sleep in her room (as he sleeps in ours so far). When he starts crying she comes running to tell us. And on Monday morning, when Emese asked her who is her favourite friend in the nursery, instead of the usual subjects from her group, Maia quickly named Ivan.
Maia got really upset watching Ivan cry loudly while I was washing him the first evening at home. She actually pushed me angrily, shouting "No, no, no!", apparently telling me to stop terorising her brother.
I heard warnings from experienced parents that the real jealousy will arrive when Ivan starts reaching out for her toys. That may be true, but nothing prevents from starting to educate her that Ivan also has toys from this point on, so by the time he actually starts playing with them she would get used. Another strategy I am willing to try is make her feel like a responsible elder sister, who should take care of her little brother. She may gain some authority this way, but will also feel more comfortable allowing him to play. In any case, so far we have nothing to complain about.

Last November, on board Air France flight 0443 from Rio, I came across an interesting article in the Time magazine. It was about how first children tend to receive priority in most cases, while many second - or later - children in a family get somewhat overlooked, and how this affects their life developments. I found it interesting and brought it home to Emese to read. Days later she notified me that she was pregnant again. From that moment on the question whether or not we do pay less attention to our second child as well kept coming back. All the way until Wednesday, August 13, 2008, when our son was actually born, and we gave him the name Ivan.
Upon delivery Ivan weighted 3710 g and was 55 cm long. At first glance I found him a bit more contained and quiet: he stopped crying pretty soon after he was measured, started looking around with curiousity and slight dissatisfaction, and after a while simply turned around and went to sleep. Something which I found very respectable and full of dignity of course. But then my first glance was a bit blurred, for I felt very emotional this time again, and I must say, it kept my eyes wet a little longer than I expected - already into the measuring room of the hospital, with a unexplainably jolly young doctor around, asking me questions about the new-born's name and making jokes with me. I should thank him for this of course.
But before I firmly position myself in the centre of this story, let me try and shift the focus back on who deserves it most: Emese. She has been an absolute hero throughout the pregnancy, and of course during the delivery day. Just like the first time, she kept working until literally the last moment. Correction: more than the first time would be right to say, as Emese had her last day in the office on the Friday before giving birth. I do not think she was doing this out of financial necessity or, God forbid, workaholism of any sort. Rather it was her organized nature (did I ever write that Emese's father's family has German descent?) and professional integrity that kept her going until she reached a stage where she could smoothly hand over her projects to someone. I would appreciate this if I were her employer, and I think they do actually.
As a matter of fact, Emese was planning on 2 relaxed last weeks of pregnancy without work, as her term date was expected to be August 23. So it was rather Ivan himself, who took away the pre-nathal vacation away from his mom, by showing up 10 days earlier. We kind of expected an earlier delivery, but never planned around it of course. That is why, on the previous day while Emese was wating for hours to get a regular baby-heart-beat check in the hospital, we were still making plans for completing the renovation works in our flat, visiting the tax office, even going to the Velence lake next weekend - as Balaton seemed too far.
On top of all Maia and myself seemed to have contracted some summer flue from our last weekend's trip to Horgos, and her nose was running so that the nursery attendant asked me on Tuesday to have her checked by doctor before she shows up again. This would normally mean that she should stay home for a few days. That night I hardly slept, struggling with nightmares of Russian tanks roaming through Georgia, with all the noise and voices echoing loud in my head on and on until the morning. At some point I walked to the balcony to observe a beautifully calm summer night, with cicadas outsinging the remote roar of the city. I realized later the night was actually pretty hot, so it was probably my fever that made it look so refreshing, but never mind.
In this desperate condition I could only notice that Emese was waking up and walking around too. She had been doing this for the past weeks, unable to sleep most likely due to her pregnancy. In a parallel process she had been growing increasingly critical and unhappy about myself and any expression of my existence - at least that was my feeling. My good father-to-be training and previous experience with a pregnant Emese did little to help me avoid being criticized and often hated in these days and nights.
But all turned upside down on Wednesday morning when Emese pushed me out of bed, saying: "Come on, let's take Maia to the doctor and to the bolcsi (that is the nursery in Hungarian). Then you need to take me to the hospital."
"What for?", I reacted surprised, "weren't you there yesterday?".
"To give birth!".
Even that wasn't enough for me to understand the gravity: "But have you got contractions?".
"What do you think I have been having fun with all night?" was the answer.
I looked around in dismay, to figure out that a full suitcase was lying on the living room's floor. Emese had packed herself during the night.
From her relaxed tone and mood I misjudged the urgency of the situation and took half an hour to pack some food, feed Maia, and ironed Emese's trousers upon her request. Then we really walked out to the car with all the luggage and Maia in my hands. The doctor's office is very near. While Emese went to collect her last missing lab test result, I convinced the non-English speaking doctor that Maia was okay and he should simply issue a paper for her to go to the bolcsi. He did, and 10 minutes later Maia was in the hands of nanny Ildi, looking somewhat puzzled at the doctor's paper and Maia's still running nose.
Another half hour was the best I could do driving in the packed streets of a city, where August has been chosen to renovate all major roads at the same time. The location of the Medical University Hosipital on Baros and Maria streets' corner is not particularly parking-friendly and that took another 10 minutes. Once we were in I waited for about half hour in front of the delivery room, before an Emese changed into a hospital robe asked me in. Smiling! This is where I realized that things were getting serious.
It took less than 30 minutes from the moment Emese entered the delivery room, to the moment Ivan appeared crying in her hands. But what 30 minutes these were. I helped her a bit to take shower and change again, with her contractions getting closer and closer to one another. The midwife Zsuzsa was very friendly and helpful, and was absent for most of the time, leaving me and Emese together. The latest news we heard from her was that it would take 5 - 6 hours. This is when Emese sent me to the car for her clothes - and I took the chance to bring up the food bag as well and pay the parking for another hour or so. I wasn't even thinking this time would be enough for the baby to be born.
Back into the room, I found Emese seating on a big rubber ball - supposedly to accelerate the process. And accelerate it did - as Emese lied down on the bad, her pain seemingly growing. The midwife advised her to turn on her side for some relief - and so she did. And then... the midwife stated shouting and pointing something behind Emese. With my limited Hungarian I caught the word "the baby"! Emese was in tears, asking me to help her to turn on her back again. The young doctor mentioned earlier - appeared from God knows where, followed by three young chicks in green aprons. I had heard them chat in German earlier and concluded that these must be some visiting medical students. The young man who lead them, later identified as Dr Julius Richard Nagy, had an unstoppable smile on his face and switched to English when I managed to mutter that I do not speak Hungarian. Emese's waters broke with a burst, and he jumped out of the way, to prevent getting soaked, happy as a schoolboy on graduation's day. Baby - no baby - baby - Julius Richard reached out, unpacked something, and took out a blue baby, which immediately started crying. I was ready to start too, standing in the corner close to the bed, which no one had a chance to actually prepare for delivery. Julius Richard then asked the key question: "So what is the name?".
"We don't know", Emese cried out, while handing the baby back to Zsuzsa. "We don't know", I repeated, recalling our failure to come up with a name that meets all the criteria that we had set. Then a word came out from my throat that noone else heard, except for Emese, I thought: "Ivan".
And Ivan he was. His first half hour devoted to meeting his still shaking father, tet-a-tet, after all the staff, including Julius Richard, went back to fix Emese. I had little words, but managed to tell him a few, then sang the Ivan-Shishman song, that contributed, at least partially to the choice of his name. Coming back to my first observations, they may have been very mistaken, as I realized my memories from how Maia was in her first hours and days, have entirely faded out. So comparison was hardly possible, and Emese said that all babies sleep after they are born. The next thing I saw, later that afternoon, was a tiny little smile in the corner of Ivan's mouth. I can only keep fingers crossed now.

С цел да отговоря на настойчивите искания от страна на редовни посетители на тоз сайт, създадох няколко албума със снимки на Иван и други работи във ФейсБук. Натиснете върху избрания албум от списъка по-долу и ще се озовете при желаните снимки.
Раждането на Иван /Ivan's birth/, от 13 август 2008.
Иван и Емеше се прибират от болницата /Ivan and Emese returned home/, от 16 август 2008.
Живот у дома /Four of us at home/, който актуализирам постоянно с нови снимки.
Ще има и още снимки, проверявайте тук.

I have created several albums of Ivan's photos on FaceBook. Click on the album you would like to see from the list below and you will be automatically redirected to the images:
Ivan's birth, August 13, 2008.
Ivan and Emese returned home, on August 16, 2008.
Four of us at home, updated continuously.
More pictures to come. Check this listing for updates.

It turned out too difficult for us to come up with a boy's name which sounds understandable both in Bulgaria and Hungary. Every time we started thinking of possible names we were stuck with either names that sound too Hungarian to my ear, or too Slavic - to put it diplomatically - for Emese. A theory emerged in my mind, that Hungarians have been much more keen to translate all male names into their language than they were with female ones. I remember when searching for a name for our daughter we had a long list of names which sounded international enough to satisfy both language communities - of which we chose the finest of course But with the son things looked different: Stefan is Istvan, Dimitur is Demetor (and this is a name for a bear, Emese judged!); Ilia is Illes, Nikolay is Miklos, and so on and so forth, making it impossible for a person to have a name spelled out the same way in a Bulgarian and a Hungarian passport, for instance. There was some other rules we were trying to keep, like: no family members' names, at least not on Emese's side - and that was Emese's own wish, mind you! No religious names, I demanded. And no names that sound ridiculous or fully unknown in one of the two languages. The last rule killed options like: Krum (sounds too much like 'krumpli', that is potatoes in Hungarian), Bela (a fashionable girl's name in Bulgaria), or Gyula (sounds too close to 'dyula' that is a quince in Bulgarian). Levente was an chance to reinforce the Hungarian - Bulgarian closeness, but apart from the meaning (a handsome man), I had never heard anyone called like this back home. And it sounded more like a Greek word anyway. One of the legendary Magyar brothers who are said to have started the Hungarian offspring after kidnapping to Bulgarian pricesses was called Hunor - which might have been a hit among certain Bulgarians, including my father, who are eager to dig into the glorious pre-European times of teh proto-Bulgarians. But there already is a Hunor in Horgos, and he happens to be Emese's godson.
Things got so bad, that when the baby was already in Emese's hands and Dr Smile asked the shivering us: "So what is the name?", we both said "We don't know!". And the fact that he was born 2 weeks earlier is no excuse here.
So, how did we come up with a name that violates almost all the rules mentioned earlier? To behgin with, Ivan has a Hungarian version, and a pretty popular one: Janos. I am tempted to include a relevant explanation by my colleague, Dr. Janos Zlinsky, which he wrote after hearing our name choice: "In Hungary, St John the Baptist, the “Prodromos” is called St Ivan. His birthday is celebrated half a year before the birthday of Christ, that is, on the 24th of June". In the name of truth, Emese had also once muttered that Ivan could possibly be in Hungarian without being a Janos, but the fact is: Slavic name, and a religious name as well. Also, a family name - as this is how my grandfather is called, who just turned 84 about a week earlier. At least we both hope Ivan would not sound funny or ridiculous anywhere, but that time will show.
There is a tiny side story. Two months ago or so my mom was visiting and entertaining Maia with some Bulgarian children songs book, singing for her all the songs in a row. Out of all, Maia fell for the song about Ivan Shishman (the small boy in the middle, pictured left) - the last Bulgarian tsar, who is famous for the fact that during his reign the country fell to the Ottomans in 1393. The song is nice though, kind of melodic folk tune, in which the protagonist witnesses and describes in singing the last march of the Bulgarian army: "Since the dawn has broken, my dear old mother, an army has been walking. Horse by the horse, my dear old mother, hero by the hero. Their swords, my dear old mother, shining like the sun. Their spears, my dear old mother, like a thick forest. Their leader, my dear old mother, tsar Ivan Shishman himself." Maia was so fascinated by the song that she kept asking me to sing it long after her grandma left, and is going to sleep with it every evening.
Before I am accused of smuggling in a Bulgarian history character, I would like to point out that if I were to chose, Shishman would certainly not be my on my Top 10 list of Bulgarian rulers. Another Ivan is much nicer in my view - Ivan (or Ioan) Assen II, the Tsar of Bulgarians and the Wallachians, who had very few wars during his pretty long and successful rule (1218 - 1241). Instead he was the master of political marriages, and apparently, the master of making children. He alone married the daughter of Andras II, the King of the Magyars. One more remarkable thing about Ivan-Assen II: he started the building of Bulgaria's marine, which few other rulers of this country have had the vision and chances to do.
History aside, the truth is Ivan is my choice of a name mostly because of John Lennon - the person whose songs I have sung the most. And who is the true champion of making love and not war. Rest in peace, John, and long live Ivan.

Събитията от този ден се развиха така неочаквано, че си заслужава да се документират от самото начало, когато Емеше каза:
- Добре ще е да минем през детския лекар, после да оставим Майа в яслата, а след това отиваме в болницата.
- Че защо ще ходим в болницата, нали бяхме там вчера - запитах се в просъница. Действително, вчера Емеше прекара там 2 часа за поредното преслушване на сърцебиенето на бебето. Отговорът беще покъртително прост:
- За да родя.
Звучеше апатично, да не кажа изнервено - както повечето неща, които Емеше ми казваше през последните двайсет и четири часа. Запитах има ли контракции - за свое изнинение мога да кажа само, че раждането беше насрочено за 23 август, т.е. почти две седмици по-късно. Отговорът, все така ехиден, гласеше:
- А с какво, мислиш, се развличам цяла нощ?
Тук е време за уточнение. Нощта беше кошмарна за мен. Може би не така кошмарна, както деня, през който Емеше видимо се дразнеше от всеки признак на съществуването ми, и без стеснение даваше гласово изражение на тези си чувства. Мъдро, като видя, че й предстои поне час чакане пред АГ кабинета, Емеше ме изпрати да уреждам някакъв сертификат за собствеността на апартамента ни в другия край на Будапеща. Когато се срещнахме отново, час и половина по-късно, напрежението сякаш беше поспаднало, но искрената омраза към мен все още къкреше и от време на време преливаше под формата на изящни словоизлеяния в неповторимия стил на Емеше.
Когато взех Майа от яслата дежурната възпитателка недвусмислено ми посочи, че според нея детето има температура и изрече строго: "Доктор, доктор". Това означаваше, че на следващата утрин - за която става дума в този разказ - Майа нямаше да бъде допусната до яслата без лекарско удостоверение, че е здрава.
Но тя не беше здрава, нито бях аз. И двамата легнахме с температура, нейната ниска, мойта - по-осезаема. Горещата вана и хомеопатичните прахчета не ми помогнаха особено. Голяма грешка от моя страна беше и четенето на новините от Руско-Грузинския конфликт. За това си дадох сметка на следващата сутрин - бях прекарал нощта със зверско главоболие, което по някаква неведома причина се транслираше в постоянно повтарящ се кошмар, в който хиляди тъжни грузинци гръмогласно ми обясняваха на каква неправда са изложени. Усещането беше точно сякаш руските танкове газят направо през слепоочията ми, с пълна газ, отново и отново цяла нощ. Надявам се Майа да е имала поне друг кошмар.
Това може би обяснявя мудността на разума ми на сутринта, след анонса, че раждането е започнало. Под влиянието на очевидната апатия и непукизъм на Емеше аз спокойно отидох до кухнята, подготвих мляко с бисквити за Майа и обемен пакет с плодове и варена царевица. Това все в отговор на страховитото предупреждение от книгата на Армин Брот, според което при продължителни родилни мъки татковците в родилното понякога просто колабирали от липса на залък храна.
Емеше ни най-малко не настояваше да побързаме. Напротив, седна да храни Майа с бисквити и мляко, а мен прати в спалнята да гладя нейни дрехи. Когато всичко беше готово, излязохме с Майа и Емеше, седнахме в колата, а след около минута слязохме, защото детската консултация е на две крачки. Един симпатичен възрастен доктор на драго сърце издаде нужната ни бележка, докато през това време в съседната стая Емеше си получаваше негативния резултат от изследването за хепатит - според нея много важно, защото без него бебето автоматично би се третирало като рисково, и би понесло ваксинен шок без причина.
После подкарах колата по имперския хълм, оставих Майа в ръцете на леля й Илди, която скептично прочете лекарската бележка но като достойна унгарка я уважи и се запаси със салфетки за да попива обилно леещия се нос на щерка ни. Карането продължи дълго - по неизвестен каприз на съдбата управата на Будапеща провежда експеримент с мирното иначе население, при който се ремонтират едновременно почти всички основни булеварди в Буда, и поне половината в Пеща. Явно се търси горният праг на търпимост към задръствания. Нейсе, за около 20 минути бяхме при болницата, но Емеше отказа да слезе - и правилно, имайки предвид, че конкракциите бяха стигнали до кота веднъж на 5 минути - затова се повъртяхме още десетина в търсене на парк место.
Когато пристигнахме, с питане и чукане Емеше потъна зад двукрила врата, с надпис на унгарски "Родилно отделение" - който тутакси разгадах. И когато, 40 минути по-късно, се питах дали не е решила в знак на отмъщение да ме остави да чакам раждането на сина си в коридора, Емеше открехна вратата и ми покани с жест и усмивка да вляза. Впечатляваща промяна, като се замисля.
Една ситна симпатична женица ми даде галцони, или както се наричат найлоновите торбички, с които опаковаш сандалите си в 30 градусова горещина, както и зелена стерилна престилка за еднократна употреба. После двете с Емеше ме поведоха към една стая, с гардеробче, мивка и голямо легло, обсипано със загадъчни аксесоари. Единственото, което успях да разпозная, бяха подрожки за крака, но те бяха в свалено положение.
Акушерката ни остави сами, Емеше взе душ, после седна на леглото. От време на време се свиваше - явно контракциите зачестяваха, но по всичко личеше, че ни очакват часове на очакване. Затова, по нейна молба, слязох до колата да й донеса багажа - а по своя инициатива платих паркинга за още 2 часа и качих в отделението пакета с храна.
Намерих Емеше в полегнало положение, все така нехайна и отпусната. Седнах на стола до леглото й. Акушерката влезе и седна от другата страна. Подаде ми влажен компрес, с който да попивам челото на Емеше при болка. В този миг за пръв път видях Емеше да се свие и изплаче от болка. Твърде безпомощно е положението на таткото в тези мигове на безнадеждна болка за жената. Акущерката говореше много топло и приветливо. Предложи на Емеше да се обърне на страна, за да облекчи болката. Попитах дали това действително помага.
- Помага, - лаконична беше Емеше, която се превиваше почти непрестанно вече. И в този момент видях как лицето на акушерката се изпъна, тя се втренчи някъде под кръста на Емеше и буквално извика нещо на унгарски, от което разбрах само "бебето"! Емеше стенеше и ме помоли да й помогна да се обърне обратно по гръб. Акушерката скочи към вратата и след миг в стаята нахълта един нахилен младеж, последван от група девойки - бях ги чул да си говорят на немски по-рано него ден, явно стажантки по медицина.
Изправих се на крака, почти разтреперан, тъй като не знаех какво става. Моментът беше стресиращ. Измежду краката на Емеше се подаде нещо като син вързоп. Акушерката викаше на Емеше - както в последствие се оказа - да задържи, да не напъва. Спука се нещо като балон с вода - и веселият младеж подскочи, все така усмихнат, в мойта посока, с цел да се предпази от намокряне. Оказа се, че той бил дежурният лекар. Присегна се и някакси разопакова синия вързоп, който тутакси се превърна в малко синьо човече, което започна да хрипти и реве. Аз бях готов да ревна също. А веселякът, разбрал, че съм чужденец, вече подаваше бебето на разплаканата Емеше и питаше на английски:
- Името, името. Какво е името?
Емеше ме погледна през сълзи безпомощно и рече:
- We don't know!
Действително, за разлика от предишното раждане, когато имахме две предпочитани женски имена седмици преди раждането, този път разговорите ни все опираха на камък. Причината бе, че унгарците явно се бяха амбицирали да преведат де що има мъжко име на унгарски. А целта беше името да е едно и също и на български. Единственото непреведено име изглежда беше Петър, но Емеше не гореше от ентусиазъм. Веднъж беше казала, че Иван се среща, въпреки наличието на унгарския си еквивалент Янош. Така след първото "I don't know" и от моя страна, аз неуверено рекох:
- Иван.
Миг по късно смехуркото доктор ме викаше да направя снимка на Емеше с новороденото, което още беше свързано към нея чрез пъпната си връв. После го отдели, сестрата залепи марля върху пъпчето и ме подкани да я последвам навън. Вече бях запознат с този ритуал от предишния път - миене и мерене на бебето, документи и етикетче на ръчичката, после ми го връчват и всички отиват да довършват Емеше. Така и стана. С тази разлика, че действието се развиваше под стреснатите погледи на немкинчетата, а аз, с просълзени очи и треперещ глас отговарях на шегичките на докторчето, след като му бях продиктувал точното изписване на името:
- Добре, така добре ли е? Ще го вземеш значи? - Ще го взема да. След като всички си отидоха и останахме на саме с Иван успях да си поприказвам с него, даже му изпях песничката за Иван Шишман - част от причината да се нарича с това име. Гледаше ми любопитно, макар че светлината явно го дразнеше. Но, за разлика от Майа, след като се ориентира в обстановката той спря да плаче и, по моя преценка, любопитно заразглежда този така нов и разнообразен свят, в който беше пристигнал.
Раждането на Емеше, от момента, в който легна на леглото, отне не повече от 30 минути - с което според мен подобри рекорда с Майа.

Time has come to revitalize this good old blog, and the news is more than worth it: yesterday Emese gave birth to our son. His name is Ivan Huppert-Antonov, and as I am writing this, he and his mom are happily sleeping in the Medical University hospital of Budapest on the corners of Baros and Maria streets. There is so much more to tell about this wonderful event, and I am taking my time to do it. For the statistics: Ivan was born officially at 11.05 am, on August 13, 2008. His weight was 3710 g (and that is final), and his length: 55 cm. He came in with a big dark hair, very curious to faces and singing, and looking angry when being moved around - which made his mother conclude that he was a 'true Bulgarian'.

Майа ожени любимият си вуйчо Ати на 17 юли в Хоргош. На снимката се вижда Майа, в снежнобелия си тоалет, и истинската невеста - Анжи. Майа беше малко ревнива, но добре се повесели на купона във Вински двор. А и Анжи също и е отколешна любимка.
Важно за нас, освен щастливото присъствие на двете маини баби - Естер и Елка - беше възможността да потанцуваме с Емеше, въпреки доста напредналия й корем. А същата нощ някъде към три и половина, Емеше ме закара до границата, където пеша минах на унгарската страна и с такси, автобус, влак и самолет се озовах чак в Москва. За снимки от сватбата на Ати и Анжи, натиснете тук. Тук може да видите снимки от пътуването ми из Алтай и Япония, благодарение на които за малко да пропусна раждането на сина си.

This is what they call childhood. Maia will soon complete the seventh month after her first year. Those who saw her last in this blog will probably not realize she is the same person who was trying to walk the last time I wrote. Plenty of water has flown down the Danube since that time. Nowadays Maia is a young woman with distinct style and remarkable socialization skills. She has been attending the nursery - or bolcsi as they call it in Hungarian - since December and feels quite comfortable being one of the youngest kids there. The consequences are remarkably positive, apart from a bunch of vibes that she inevitably harvested in the first few weeks. But then came the fun part. Maia is now entirely relaxed about other kids, and - most amazingly - their mothers and fathers. She would walk to a complete stranger mom in Ikea's restaurant, engage in a natural and joyful exchange with the complete stranger child, and soon demand (and obtain) the attention and love of everyone around with her smart moves and approaches. Although unable to talk none, Maia seemingly comprehends perfectly both Hungarian and Bulgarian, and responds very adequately. Although her active vocabulary is larger in Hungarian, she demonstrates clear preference to the Bulgarian versions of certain words, like пари [pari], meaning "hot" (not to be confused with its homograph meaning "money" - she is too young for that).
But before this posting gets too long, after half a year of silence, let me get to the point: Maia is fascinated by the Internet. And most particularly, by the live image and sound of her grandfather, talking, performing, and singing for her remotely from downtown Sofia. If there is one thing that can keep Maia hypnotized in front of the screen for 10 minutes it is Dedo Palyo indeed - although Baba Eli also receives a fair share of affection. That is how it starts, I hear the skeptics whisper, but from my point of view better early than late - there is no escape from the Internet for this generation, so why not use its best sides. I can't help thinking how a video telephone sounded like decent science fiction to me when I was a child. And how easy does science fiction turn into real life these days. Have you not noticed?