Marton Bisztrai (44) met an Irish person for the first time while travelling around the Middle East in 2003. Two decades later, he and his wife chose to move to Ireland when school curriculum changes in Hungary prompted them to leave their homeland.
“I met an Irish backpacker in Jordan. We spent a few days in the same hostel and travelling together,” says Bisztrai, who is coordinator of the Show Racism the Red Card campaign for the Immigrant Council of Ireland.
His next interaction with Irish people was during the three years that he lived in Palestine in the mid-2000s. He had moved to the West Bank to do field research for his work as a cultural anthropologist.
“I lived in a Christian Palestinian town called Beit Jala, and I studied the relations of the Muslim Palestinian and Christian Palestinian communities and the impact of the Israeli occupation,” he says. “I did a lot of research on the premarital romantic relations, because that was a taboo in that society.”
With friends in Beit Jala, many of them Irish, Bisztrai formed a rugby club. “We received a boxful of rugby kits from Munster Rugby Supporters club because we met some of them when they were visiting Palestine.”
Club members were also invited to visit the Irish Representative Office in Ramallah and presented with a cheque for more than €2,000 for the team.
“I always had this good impression of Ireland, especially because of my time in Palestine, the solidarity they showed and their love of rugby.”
The importance of showing solidarity towards the marginalised was instilled in Bisztrai from an early age. Growing up in Budapest, his pacifist parents were strict believers in the Catholic Church but also strong critics of its hierarchy.
“We were about following the New Testament and taking things like ‘do not kill’ literally. I grew up in an environment where many people refused to serve in the army and because of that they went to prison.”
Bisztrai and his wife, Anna, have been together since they met at the Central European University in Budapest.
“She’s a historian, too. She was also studying cultural anthropology.”
My Irish friend was completing the viewing and said: ‘This is a decent home. You won’t get anything better.’ I got on the aeroplane and paid the deposit. Two months later, we moved
In 2015 Bisztrai moved from working as a cultural anthropologist to non-profit groups who work with migrants and asylum seekers.
The move came after he stepped forward to help when a big influx of people began arriving in Hungary from the Middle East in the 2010s. He began in his spare time by using the Arabic he had picked up in Palestine to assist them in any way he could.
“I volunteered and did some interpreting for people who were stuck on the streets of Budapest. I helped out with different organisations and went to hospitals.”
He worked for the UNHCR, the UN refugee agency, and SOS Children’s villages, who support children without parental care and families at risk. This was at a time when Viktor Orbán’s right-wing government was becoming increasingly authoritarian and hostile to immigration.
“Humanitarian workers were targeted by the government. Many of my colleagues’ names, and my name, [were] listed in a newspaper just before the 2018 election, saying that these people work for George Soros,” he says, referring to the Hungarian-born billionaire whose support for liberal causes has drawn frequent attacks from Orbán.
Bisztrai and his wife welcomed two children. Changes to Hungary’s school curriculum propelled them to consider moving abroad.
“My wife and I decided together that we do not want our children to grow up under a regime that is not just against different opinions but is changing how teachers think about life.”
Marton Bisztrai: ‘Humanitarian workers were targeted by the Hungarian government.’ Photograph: Tom Honan
They settled on Ireland for a number of reasons, among them the fact that Bisztrai had connections with Irish people he had met over the years; the Republic is in the EU and is only a short plane trip from their families; and because Bisztrai and his wife are both fluent in English.
The couple were then faced with the harsh reality of the housing crisis. “We were sending hundreds of emails. One of them from Waterford replied,” Bisztrai recalls.
He asked a friend from Cork to attend the viewing for him.
“He was completing the viewing and said: ‘This is a decent home. You won’t get anything better.’ I got on the aeroplane and paid the deposit. Two months later, we moved.”
That was in 2023. While moving away from loved ones has not always been plain sailing, Bisztrai says the family have ended up in a lovely neighbourhood and see themselves staying there for the foreseeable future.
“Our kids are outside all day, playing with other kids from the neighbourhood. That’s the best for them.”
He has noticed many cultural differences, but the one that really stands out is the difference in how people here deal with a runny nose.
“In Hungary you would get a tissue and blow your nose, put the tissue back in your pocket. This is a big thing in Hungary,” he says. “I remember as a child when I was sniffing a little bit my mum would be constantly chasing me with a tissue and shouting at me to blow my nose.”
Bisztrai recounts, with a laugh, being told as a child that he would be taken to the GP who would “cut off your face and some other terrible things will happen to you” if he didn’t blow his nose.
His work frequently takes him into schools, where he gives antiracism workshops.
“I hear teachers and sometimes students sniffing, just taking back their snot rather than going to get a tissue. From a Hungarian perspective this is very bothersome because we have different norms.”
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