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Sometimes the only place left to go is home. There was one problem, I had trouble finding my way home. Or was home outside those borders in the lost cities that I found a source of endless fascination.
In my imagination, I felt more at home in the lost cities because they were the places still fraught with tension. Places where history was palpable, and ghosts could be discovered in broad daylight. Something about that slowly came to seem not quite right. I wanted to stay on the fringes and walk along the edges. Szeged is not far from my final stop in Subotica and manages to surpass it in architectural wonders.
Subotica and Szeged are not far apart. Both cities suddenly found themselves on the frontier. They have much in common and are distinctly different. For Hungarians, Szeged is the dream, Subotica the reality. That sense of bipolarity was something that millions of ethnic Hungarians came to know all too well when the Treaty of Trianon went into effect. Finding home on this journey was not only pertinent to me. I was following in the footsteps of ethnic Hungarians. Millions had suddenly found themselves outside the borders of Hungary after the Treaty of Trianon took effect.
Their lives and livelihoods were in limbo. They were left with two choices between bad and worse. They could either leave the only life they had ever known behind, or they could stay and try to make the best of what would be a very difficult situation. Some of them went back to Hungary because they had little choice as ethnic Hungarians were threatened, attacked, or faced discriminatory policies.
