‘You’ll never become a good Venezuelan if you stop being a good Hungarian!’ – A Conversation with Alice Diego-Fedor, Part II

Fleeing the Hungarian communist regime, little Alice’s parents entrusted her to her grandparents in 1949. They reunited only seven years later, in January 1956 when the 8 years old girl was finally able to travel with her grandmother to Caracas, where she also met her two younger brothers who were born there. She soon began helping ‘56er refugees as an interpreter, which later became her profession. At the age of twelve she spent a year in Vienna and at fifteen she enrolled at the Hungarian secondary school in Burg Kastl, Germany, where she later met her Spanish husband. After ten years spent in Germany, they moved (back) to Caracas in 1973, started a family and played an active role in the local Hungarian community for decades. Fleeing the Venezuelan communist dictatorship, they returned to Hungary in 2010, where she continued putting her language skills, energy and commitment to good use through the Kastl Alumni and the Venezuelan Hungarian Association.

Antal-Ferencz Ildikó

How did you meet your husband?
At the time Hungarian was nowhere to be found on the stage of world politics. Since I was a foreigner, Spanish was my so-called A language, German my B language and English my C language. Since I knew all of them, I thought I’d be bored in the first semester, so I decided to take Italian as an optional language. The university was modern: instead of desks there was a huge oak round table in the classroom, and sitting opposite me was a handsome boy who kept looking at me. I occasionally looked back… (laughs) Most Germans had difficulties pronouncing a short sentence in Italian, but neither the boy nor I had any trouble, so after class he joined me and asked in German whether I was Italian. It turned out he was Spanish, and after finishing economics university he and his best friend Ricardo – our son is named Ricardo after him – had travelled from Valencia to Scotland on a Vespa scooter. There he decided not to return to Franco’s oppressive regime in Spain – dictatorship is no good even when it’s right-wing – and instead went to a friend studying in Germersheim, having heard that out of 1,200 students in German studies, 800 were women… Vicente didn’t speak German well enough, so for three years he worked as a bouncer, postman and porter while learning the language. In 1968, just as I finished high school in Kastl, he decided to obtain a second degree and enrolled in interpreter training – which is how we met at that first Italian class… That very day he invited me to the Piccolo disco and whispered in my ear during the first slow song: ‘You will be my wife…’ At that moment, I found this statement outrageous, but two days later I started to like his decisiveness… From then on, we were together for 49 years, until his death nine years ago.

What else happened in Germany, and why did you return to Caracas?
I received a scholarship from the Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst, (DAAD) as a ‘poor girl from the Third World’ – at the time Germans were very eager to rehabilitate themselves internationally, so they were extremely generous with us refugees. Everyone had to apply for the scholarship in person at the German consulate in their country of origin. During my ten years in Germany I was only in Caracas once, in September 1969 for this reason. I received 500 marks a month, which was more than enough to live on and even to travel. The only condition was that after graduating, students had to return to their home countries to make use of the knowledge and experience gained in Germany – something many, of course, didn’t do. I too felt a slight pang of conscience for staying in Germany, especially as after graduation I was immediately offered a job in the faculty’s Spanish department, which I very much liked. I had been working there for six months when I received a letter from my father that I simply couldn’t resist…

What did he ask from you?

He wrote: ‘My dear daughter, if you’ve learned everything you wanted to learn, if you’ve travelled everywhere you wanted to travel, if you’ve experienced everything you wished to experience, come home.’ It touched me so deeply that I realised I couldn’t say no to my family. I told my boyfriend I was going back to Venezuela. Vicente replied very firmly – he was like that all his life: ‘You’re not going anywhere alone.’ At first it sounded like an order, so I felt offended – after all, I was a sovereign, university-educated woman who could do as she pleased… –, but then I calmed down and thought it through: if he was truly willing to leave everything behind for me – his beloved country, his family and friends – then he was a man I could entrust my life to. So I told him – casually, so he wouldn’t get ideas: ‘All right then, you can come with me.’ (laughs)

Later, when he sometimes longed for Europe – especially in the late ‘70s – he could never blame me for asking him to leave Europe… When he asked me why don’t we go back, I always replied: ‘If you want to go, you can. I’m staying.” (laughs)At the time I had no desire whatsoever to move back to Europe, because we returned yearly and I could see how difficult it was for my friends to reconcile work and family life harmoniously, especially with children. When I arrived in Caracas in 1973 with my husband, my cat Misi and 700 kilos of luggage – we had stocked up thoroughly beforehand: paintings, carpets, all sorts – I had come home. Thank God, I’ve always felt at home wherever I have lived.

How were you received in Venezuela?

My mother’s hair stood on end a little when we arrived as mentioned, but everything settled nicely soon. I immediately found my old friends from the former Hungarian House in Caracas and from the German school. Thank God my husband also adapted immediately and very smoothly; my Hungarian friends welcomed him with great warmth. He had already been to Hungary twice before, visiting relatives with me, so he had some sense of the Hungarian way of life and had had a taste of Hungarian culture. In the large Hungarian colony in Venezuela, he was able to immerse himself even more deeply, and of course I ‘reactivated’ as well. But it wasn’t just me: my entire generation was extremely active. If someone came up with a good idea, we joined forces and organised it. Thanks to the prosperity we enjoyed at the time, we could travel to distant countries or host folk dance ensembles from all over the world.

First, tell us about the Hungarian scouting in Caracas.

The Venezuelan scout troop, for obvious geographical reasons, belonged to the First District of the Hungarian Scout Association in Exteris (abbreviated KMCSSZ in Hungarian), together with the U.S. and Canada. I completed my patrol leaders’ training in Caracas; Császár Ede (‘Csedebá’) came to us to run the course. While I was a university student, I travelled from Germany to the U.S. for the assistant officer training held in Fillmore, New York, and later I went from Caracas to the same place for officer training, at the very last moment before getting married. Our wedding only took place in October because I had to attend officer training during the summer…

Sometime in the ‘80s, Gábor Bodnár, the founder of the KMCSSZ, also visited us in Venezuela. By then, my generation was already married, with small children, and we could no longer be actively involved in scouting, but we met regularly – these were the famous Tuesday gatherings; when I returned home, I immediately joined this circle. Every Tuesday evening at eight o’clock, after putting the children to bed and saying goodbye to our husbands, we rushed off to the meeting. Whether three or fifteen of us turned up, the hostess was always prepared. We often held our Christmas gatherings in our large garden; on such occasions, as many as 35 people would come together. We also invited Gábor Bodnár to one of these Tuesday meetings, and when he saw us, he suggested that we found an official adult scout troop. Afterwards, much like during Cardinal Mindszenty’s visit – which I’ll talk about later – we began to consider the idea and think about an official name. We went through the great women of Hungarian history, but most of the names were already taken. Someone suggested Lea Ráskai, a medieval nun who copied manuscripts – an intelligent and educated woman. And so we founded the 103rd Ráskai Lea Adult Scout Troop, which still exists to this day, albeit scattered. We became the supporting body for the two children’s scout troops. We supported every event organised in the Hungarian House and every Hungarian church event, cooking the dinners. Everyone knew that you could always rely on ‘the ráskais’.

Here I must mention a very important person: Judit Nyisztorné Kristóffy, who served for many years as troop leader and later district commissioner. She was not only a mentor to my generation, but one of the heart and soul figures of the local Hungarian life, to whom we owe an immense amount. She devoted her life to this community while raising three children. She was a teacher of Hungarian and philosophy at the Central University of Venezuela, with an enormous breadth of knowledge. Judit is also the sister of former Hungarian Foreign Minister and Ambassador Géza Jeszenszky. As Géza once recounted, Judit was for a long time his ‘window to the world’. He visited us in Venezuela as well, even before becoming foreign minister or ambassador, to see his sister. Today Judit is 91 years old; sadly, she is confined to bed due to a broken leg, yet every Wednesday evening she gives online lectures on general and Hungarian cultural history. Her students come from all over the world and from all age groups.

I assume you were also active in folk dancing…

Yes, because I had a special five-year extensive folk dance experience acquired in Kastl. The Gyöngyösbokréta group, founded in 1957, has ceased to exist. A Hungarian woman from Sweden named Stefi Tedenholt lived in Venezuela for a few years; her Swedish husband worked for Ericsson. She too had a folk dance background from Hungary, and with her and the dance-loving scouts’ help, we revived the dance group at that time. The dance group began operating seriously again in 1974 – the year we got married – and later a children’s folk dance group was also formed, called Rubintos Madár (Ruby Bird), which my own children joined as well. The style of Gyöngyösbokréta in the ‘50-60s reflected the spirit of the era: Hungarian-style headpieces, red boots, etc. When I arrived, I was already steeped in the ‘pure source’ from Hungary, which I often visited from Germany. The choreographies were taught based on the concepts of the Sebő brothers. We could afford to invite renowned instructors from Hungary on three occasions, who taught us for weeks. Once we even brought over the entire Szőttes ensemble from Upper Hungary (today’s Slovakia); all sixteen of them…

I became artistic director of Gyöngyösbokréta, while my closest Ráskai-scout friend, Enikő Gazsóné Házos took over the management of the folk costumes. Anyone among us who travelled to Hungary at the time returned to Caracas with authentic folk costume pieces purchased at markets in Hungary or Transylvania, or, like my mother and other women belonging to the Women’s Association, brought embroidery and handicrafts for the Autumn Fair. Even the Venezuelan First Lady, Alicia Pietri de Caldera, came to one of our events, held in the beautiful long courtyard of the Protestant church, where the ladies prepared 800 portions of stuffed cabbage and several dozens of Dobos cakes, and of course Gyöngyösbokréta performed as well.

We also played an active role in turning what is now the South American Hungarian Folk Dance Meeting into a tradition. The first was held in Buenos Aires in 1982, the second in Caracas, where 150 people attended. We invited the then still active Hungarian folk dance groups from São Paulo (Zrínyi Ensemble és a Pántlika group), Buenos Aires (Regös Ensemble), the Hungária group from New York, and a Hungarian folk dance group from Europe led by Laci Németh. We accommodated everyone and drove them everywhere by our cars; we didn’t put anyone on local buses… In this respect, Venezuela was always a dangerous place, like most so-called Third World countries – as we used to call them at the time; today we would say ‘developing countries’.

We also organised a meeting of Eastern European folk dance groups active in Caracas at the Hungarian House. Alongside the wonderfully dancing Ukrainians, the Latvians, Lithuanians and Croatians also came, and close friendships developed with all of them. We also invited a Roma orchestra from Hungary touring in Miami at the time. These were very beautiful years, which left a deep mark on us and on our children as well – because, thank God, our parents’ generation created all this for us, we continued it, and then passed it on to our children. Sadly, they no longer had the opportunity to pass it on to their own children… As a result of the increasingly political, economic, and social crisis in Venezuela that began in 1999, the once eventful Hungarian community life in Venezuela also ceased to exist, and we scattered across the globe…

Let’s stay with the ‘70s-’80s for a moment. Had the Hungarian kindergarten also ceased to exist by the time you returned to Caracas?

Yes. The Hungarian kindergarten originally founded in 1957 was run by Auntie Erzsi and Uncle Laci: Uncle Laci transported the children, and Auntie Erzsi worked with them. My brothers attended it as well and learned Hungarian very nicely. Then, like the old Gyöngyösbokréta, the kindergarten also ceased to exist: Auntie Éva and Uncle Laci grew old, and for years there was no one to take over or restart the kindergarten. In 1975, when Cardinal Mindszenty visited the Hungarian communities in the Americas, he also visited Caracas – it was his last journey; three months later he passed away in Mariazell, Austria. We prepared all sorts of things for his visit, including organising a performance by kindergarten children and cub scouts: we dressed the little girls in red polka-dot skirts and white blouses, and embroidered waistcoats for the little boys. It was very ad hoc, but the Cardinal liked it so much that afterwards he said that this Hungarian kindergarten must be preserved; he had never seen anything like it. We were ashamed to admit that the Hungarian kindergarten had already ceased to exist… We put our heads together and concluded we need a new kindergarten as it is one of our legacies – thus we re-established it in the Hungarian House.

Among the South American Hungarian émigré communities, only ours had a properly functioning, daily Hungarian kindergarten for many years, attended by almost all the children of my generation. Móroczné Horváth Irén, alias Auntie Csicser – whose funeral is taking place today – was a professionally trained kindergarten teacher from Hungary. Auntie Éva Udvaros was not formally trained, but they were completely equal and also equally committed to nurturing Hungarian language and identity. Some children didn’t speak a single word of Hungarian when they arrived, yet after two or three years, Hungarian flowed fluently. A few years ago, Scout Commander Sándor Bánki placed the 2022 calendar of the Hungarian Mindszenty Foundation in my hands: it included the famous photograph in which the Cardinal is surrounded by many little children. I’m immensely proud to be part of such moments in Hungarian history!…

What other Hungarian organisations were operating at the time?

The current Hungarian House, operating from 1969, was at that time the most beautiful Hungarian House in South America. The very first Hungarian House had only been a small rented villa without even a name, where Hungarians gathered. Afterwards they moved into a large old villa, which we also loved dearly, because we could use the big backyard during scout activities. Since, thank God, the number of Hungarians kept growing, they decided to have a house of their own. They created the financial basis very cleverly: they founded a joint-stock company and bought a large plot of land one street away in the same neighbourhood (Los Chorros), where they built the Hungarian House. Every Hungarian who could afford it bought shares.

The Hungarian House hosted the Hungarian kindergarten, the scouting and weekend school, folk dancing and the Catholic Masses, but the Hungarian colony also had its own Hungarian choir, history, sports and chess clubs; our table-tennis players even won regional prizes. The St Stephen’s Day fair was organised by the St Elizabeth Catholic Women’s Association in the Hungarian House, but of course we also commemorated 23 October and 15 March.

The Piroska Vaszary Theatre Company was founded in 1958 by the actress it was named after, who moved from Buenos Aires to Caracas. I myself appeared at the age of 10–11 in the successful play The Gyurkovics Girls as one of the little girls in sailor suits. For a long time the theatre presented the New Year’s Eve programmes, but by the time I returned to Caracas it had already passed its heyday, otherwise I’d certainly have joined in. There was also a Registry Committee led by Ildikó Kunckelné Fényes for a long time, which at the time, counted 5-6,000 Hungarians in Venezuela – of these, about 1,500 may have lived in Caracas, and those of us who participated very actively in Hungarian community life probably numbered around a hundred.

Finally, I must also mention the Colegio Emil Friedman, which was one of the best schools in Caracas, and still is. Its founder was an Upper Hungarian (today’s Slovakia) Jewish man who spoke perfect Hungarian and was a very charismatic musician. He arrived in Venezuela after the war with a violin and founded a tiny institution where music was important, which by the late 1970s had become a famous private elementary and high school with 1,200 students. Uncle Emil personally tested every new child’s musical sensitivity. When he asked my five-year-old son in Spanish which song he liked best, he  answered: ‘Mókuska, mókuska…’ . Then we could speak Hungarian, Uncle Emil replied. There were five orchestras altogether in his school, and several Hungarian children attended. The school’s grand hall was a real concert hall and theatre; this was where the big gala evening of our III. International South American Folk-dance Gathering took place, organizing of which was the responsibility of Gyöngyösbokréta, but many members of the Hungarian colony also helped out.

Please also describe the history of the local Hungarian churches.

Venezuela is predominantly Catholic, with very few Protestants. The Hungarian Catholics were also far more numerous than the Protestants. The Roman Catholic Hungarian community was founded in 1951, and the St Elizabeth Catholic Women’s Association in 1954. Perhaps the most memorable was the service of Franciscan monk Ede Dömötör, who served the community as parish priest from 1961 until his death in 1976, and whom everyone called ‘little father’ He was a man of extraordinary spirit. Everyone loved and respected him, Cathol. After World War II he fled to America – not directly to Venezuela – but eventually served in Caracas and died there. Afterwards the shortage of Catholic priests was bridged by Spanish-speaking priests. In the last couple of decades, masses have been held in the Hungarian House, where the altar is set up. There is a cross on the wall, made of inlaid black stone and the building is beautifully decorated: everything there speaks of Hungary and Hungarian culture. And they also had an organist, Aunt Ica – I don’t know whether she is still alive…

Meanwhile, the Hungarian Protestant congregation could hold services in a wonderful facility of their own, because in 1950 they joined forces with three other nationalities: German, Swedish and Latvian Protestants, together and with the support of the Lutheran World Federation in Geneva, they built their beautiful large church, called Iglesia Evangélica Luterana en Venezuela, La Resurrección. The entire left side of a cul-de-sac belonged to the church. I was confirmed there, we were married there, my children were baptised, and they were also confirmed and married there. Next to the church is a beautiful chapel, followed by four modern parsonages and a boarding school for students of the German diaspora – children of families living in remote parts of the country. All of this is surrounded by a beautifully maintained garden. Every year for 60 years, the Hungarian Protestant congregation held its Autumn Fair there, organized by the Lorántffy Zsuzsanna Hungarian Protestant Women’s Association, which was registered as a social event in Caracas. The Protestant church itself was founded in 1950 by Pastor György Pósfai, but he was later invited to Geneva to work for the Lutheran World Federation. After that we ‘imported’ three or four pastors from Hungary, who all proved to be excellent. Later Ákos Puky returned to Caracas, freshly graduated from Buenos Aires, and he served as our pastor for a long time. Ákos had been a scout in his youth; he led the cub scouts when my brothers attended scouting.

What remained of all this by the 2000s, and by today?

The theatre company probably ceased earliest, in 1990. The kindergarten operated until the early ‘90s. Aunt Csicser moved to Hungary, Aunt Éva passed away in Venezuela. Then, in 1999, all hell broke loose: Chavism arrived. The last kindergarten teacher was Fedor Alicia, my niece, who held the fort for as long as she could. By then it had become very dangerous to transport children from one side of the city to the other; parents tended to choose the nearest educational institutes. The same happened with scouting: after a while there were no more evening dinners, because people no longer dared to go out. The Gyöngyösbokréta folk-dance group operated until 2002. Scouting still functioned in the early 2000s and finally ceased about ten years ago, though camps were held until then. Dani Friedlander, who returned to Hungary and later went back to Venezuela again, tried to breathe life into it, but unfortunately couldn’t revive it. Too few Hungarians remained in Caracas…

The Hungarian House still exists, thank God. They can apply for funds to the Bethlen Gábor Foundation of the Hungarian government. The leadership led by Olívia Korsós – who used to be one of my dancers – meets regularly, keeping each other’s spirits up. The bar still operates as well; they have an excellent counter, now run by our old scout mate Gábor Korsós. There is still a membership fee, though it is negligible, as most people can no longer afford to pay it. However, the house has become very popular in Venezuelan social circles, who rent it out for the best Venezuelan milongas and tango courses, wedding receptions and birthdays. Hungarian is heard less often nowadays in the Hungarian House, but the famous monthly lunches are still held – no longer every month – and perhaps one or two table-tennis players still attend, though all our champions are here in Hungary. A Hungarian friend from Caracas who now lives in Atlanta visited Budapest recently; she always gathers the former Hungarian House members here – last time forty of us met.

15 March and 23 October are still commemorated, because the Hungarian embassy in Quito, Ecuador does everything it can to keep things alive – diplomatically they are now responsible for the Hungarian colony in Venezuela. The repatriation programme also starts with them. The ambassador and the consul try to attend Hungarian events. Deputy State Secretary Péter Szilágyi has also visited us several times. Thank God, these important Hungarian officials appear from time to time and do not completely forget about us – just as we never forgot Hungary and were always very supportive of those living here.

What about the Church communities?

Unfortunately, the Hungarian Protestant congregation has also dissolved; our last pastor left Venezuela in the early 2000s. Ákos Puky, however, is still there to this day, even though he is already 86. Previously the four congregations held services in their own languages – i.e. not in Spanish – but more and more grandchildren appeared who no longer spoke their grandparents’ languages. Ákos and his family contributed enormously to the Hungarian colony. Today Ákos’s sister, one of his brothers and his niece all live in Hungary and keep inviting him home, but he stays and holds together the Spanish-speaking Protestant church of Caracas, conducting services in Spanish. There is no longer a Hungarian Protestant service, but there is still a Hungarian Catholic Mass, attended by about 15–20 people. It is also held in Spanish, but the Venezuelan priest also reads the daily Gospel in Hungarian and has learnt the Hungarian national anthem, which he sings with his hand on his heart. He respects Hungarian saints as well; for example, on 20 August his sermon is about St Stephen. The Hungarians of Caracas are very satisfied with him and love him.

Most Hungarians of Caracas relocated in the 2000s to Europe, the USA, Argentina or Brazil to escape the emerging communist dictatorship, and thus enriching Hungarian life in those countries today. Consequently, Hungarian community life is still flourishing there and in Uruguay as well. They of course say it’s not like it used to be, but compared to what remained in Venezuela, we view them with healthy jealousy…

Part III is comming