In this part of our series showcasing special objects of our volunteers, Elika from Iran wants to show us something very small, but very meaningful to her.
I bought this small hand-painted porcelain cup in Szeged when I arrived in Hungary. At first glance, it looks very simple—white, with delicate blue flowers. Nothing extraordinary. But for me, it carries so many memories and emotions.
I bought this cup during my first weeks in Szeged. Everything around me was new: the streets, the language, the weather. Even the silence felt different. I remember walking through the city in winter, feeling the cold air on my face, trying to remember street names, trying to say simple Hungarian words correctly.
When I hold this cup in my hands, I go back to those days.
I remember the cold winter mornings, walking by the Tisza River, watching the water, thinking about my family back home, and wondering what my future here would look like.
In those early days, this cup became part of my routine. I would make tea—sometimes Persian tea, sometimes something new I found here—and sit quietly in my room. Drinking tea from this cup felt comforting. It felt familiar.
For me, it became a small bridge between two worlds. On one side, my Iranian roots—my family, my culture, the smell of tea at home. On the other side, my new life in Szeged: my studies, new friends, and new experiences.
This cup reminds me not only of missing home, but also of building a new one.
Over time, Szeged stopped feeling foreign. The streets became familiar. The language became less intimidating. The city slowly became part of me. And this little cup was always there—on my desk during study sessions, next to me during long evenings, and in quiet moments of reflection. It makes me feel warm. Sometimes nostalgic. Sometimes proud.
Because when I look at it now, I don’t just see porcelain and blue flowers. I see growth. I see courage. I see the young student who arrived in a new country and slowly created a life here.
It reminds me that home is not just one place. You can carry it with you. You can build it again.
Even though this cup is small and fragile, it holds a very strong story—my story of adapting, learning, and finding beauty in a new culture.
Hungary is no longer just a country where I study. It is part of my journey. And somehow, this little cup holds that connection quietly, but deeply.
Sometimes, the smallest objects carry the biggest meanings. And for me, this cup is exactly that.
Photo provided from the personal archive of Dr. Elika Valehi.