St. Petersburg- Museums

Oct. 9, 2918-St. Petersburg- Museums

How many people does it take to return an earring? Last night I bent down to pick up what I thought was a dime at the elevator in our hotel. It was an earring. One woman recognized to whom it belonged. Another said she’d give it to the owner who was at a folk music show. Our little group was on the way to dinner with Bob. Thinking better of it, the earring holder gave it to Bob since he was going to see the earring owner first when he picked up the people at the show. Bob later gave the earring to its delighted owner who had looked for it in the theater. This morning I gave the earring owner a few plastic earring stops/guards to prevent further loss. She attempted to slide the stops onto her earrings, but was rushed since the group was boarding the bus. Two of us took an ear each and slid the stops on her earring backs. In short, it takes a village.

We were dropped off at Artist’s Square and chose to walk to the Faberge Museum. It is housed in a former palace and there are few words to describe the intricacy, originality, and beauty on display. The couple we were with spent time in the gift shop so we browsed too. They had a collection of colorful Shabbat candles & dreidels for sale. Of course, they weren’t Faberge. We also found a $2350 hippo. Didn’t buy it.

After lunch we walked down Nevsky Prospect, a shopping boulevard, to the bus. We rode to the Winter Palace which houses part of the Hermitage collection. The main palace was built for Peter’s daughter, Elizabeth, who loved open spaces. She must have adored the ginormous 1054 rooms. Steps were built with low risers since she had bad knees. We all appreciated that. But, alas, Elizabeth never lived there. She died before she could take up residence. But Peter’s wife, Catherine, made the most of it. The name, Hermitage, means “lonely place.” She treasured her solitude and didn't’ want to share her accumulated art. It was for her and her alone.

Only 8% of the collection is on display. It is said that if you view each item on display for only a minute, it will take you 8 years to see them all. Then there’s the rest of it in storage. I took a few pictures but agreed with the guide. If you go onto hermitage.com, you can download photos without tourists in them.

Before Hitler’s army arrived, the curator of the museum had foresight and a plan. He removed all the paintings from their frames and numbered both paintings and frames. Empty frames were left on the walls and the pictures were crated and shipped to Siberia. After the war they were returned to their original places as if nothing had happened. 

The Hermitage would been a lovely experience even if the palace was empty. You really need three trips. One is to look at the art, one to absorb the design of the rooms, & the third is to appreciate the inlaid floors. 

Yesterday, our city guide asked us to think about why there was a revolution after WWI. The answer to us is exemplified by the number of palaces illustrating the disparity of wealth at the time. One family had 50 palaces in and around the city. There was plenty of fodder to incite the majority of Russians who had nothing. Today, I found myself remarking, “Not another pink palace.”

Our farewell dinner was at a small restaurant that reminded me of a stage set for a Russian tea room. Vodka shots were already at our places when we were seated, and wine was included. Toasts were made to Bob, his future with fiancé Julian, etc. After more drinks, the toasts got silly. Roma musicians and dancers appeared. When the violinist began to screech, we all looked at Bob for a reaction. He had his head in his hands. His fiancée is a concert violinist. Soon we were taking turns dancing to the Russian melodies. Then, big mouth, David asked if they played hava nagilah. They called his bluff and struck up the tune. Before you knew it, David was on the dance floor and so was I. That’s why I don’t have a photo of him dancing.....yet. Others were snapping away. 

We have an early start tomorrow. Some of our group is staying and some going home. We’re boarding a high-speed train for Moscow. It will take four hours instead of the twelve that a regular train takes.

Toby

Faberge duck

St. Petersburg- Faberge Museum gift shop

Hermitage empty frames after WWII

Roma violinst

St. Petersburg Hop On, Hop Off

Oct. 8, 2018-St. Petersburg Hop On, Hop Off

Good thing is we have sun. Bad thing is it’s only going up to 40 degrees.

What happened to Oleg our bus driver? What happened to our big bus? We have a tiny bus today. Seats & suspension are awful. Maybe it’s better for traffic conditions.

We had our usual lecturer this morning. She had spent three months studying in Chicago and was more candid with her presentation than expected. Her bottom line is that people need to meet personally and not believe propaganda they see on TV. 

The Soviet legacy lives on through nostalgia. Putin said that whoever doesn’t miss it has no past; whoever wants to go back to the past has no brain. The only equality was in misery. Today some 70,000 communal apartments are still in use. Those are large, formerly private apartments where several families live sharing a kitchen and bathroom.

Inequality is the rule today. With the fall of the USSR, property was up for grabs. Ten percent of the population ended up with 80% of the wealth with the help of the Russian Mafia.  Life expectancy is low (60 for men; 77 for women), birth rate is low, pensions are low, and there is a brain drain. When there was pension reform, retirement age was raised (60 for women; 65 for men). Basically, they pay taxes, retire and die. 

So, what is the Putin phenomenon? The leader before him, Yeltsin, was weak regarding the West and an embarrassment. He frequently appeared drunk at public events. Putin was young (in his 40’s), and didn’t drink. He was perceived as strong, and when he raised oil prices from $8/barrel to $100/barrel, it was a windfall. The middle class began to emerge. The rest of the unexpected bounty disappeared through corruption. Russians like firm leaders. Another plus for Putin. In a recent survey asking who they think was the best leader of the 20th century, they chose Stalin. Now, that’s selective memory. When the US imposed sanctions on Russia, it affected the wealthy. But in retribution Putin imposed anti-sanctions. That impacted the general population in a negative way. There is no more fish from Finland and no apples from Poland. The speaker said they have the same chance to fish in the Gulf of Finland and plenty of land to grow apples, but that oil money was not used to develop Russian entrepreneurship.

The 2018 World Cup was transformational for Russians. Propaganda told them the world hated them and wanted them to fail. Their expectations were low regarding their ability to host the event. But they were pleasantly surprised to meet the world and find it was made up of people who were interested in cultural exchanges.

Russians are very competitive with Americans and felt betrayed by the West. They thought that after the collapse of the USSR they would be “saved” by being invited into the EU and NATO. They did like Trump, and Parliament celebrated his victory with champagne. Russians deny hacking our elections, and are proud they did it. They see it as revenge for all the American interference in their politics in the 90’s. Now Russians feel sorry for Trump. They see him as a victim of democracy. They believe he wanted to remove the sanctions, but the evil Congress opposed him. 

WWII devastated this city. Over a million people died of cold and starvation. Things slowly improved and today manufacturing keeps St. Petersburg employed. There is only a 1% unemployment rate. Really?

One of our group, Mike, asked about Putin’s family. He said he’d tried to find information on wives or children and couldn’t. The speaker said that Putin has two daughters, a wife he divorced, and a new young wife. It seems that anyone who delves deeper into the Putin history disappears. So far, Mike from Minnesota is still with us. 

Our bus tour covered the graceful architecture and history of St. Petersburg. If you held a gun to my head, I couldn’t recount the information. There are repurposed palaces, parks, and waterfront locales to explore. We had a “comfort” break at a gift shop with expensive items. I didn’t buy LeBron James nesting dolls for $35. St. Isaac Cathedral was on our “hop off” itinerary. It is named for the patron saint of Peter the Great, St. Isaac, not the Old Testament Isaac.

After a lunch of hot Russian borscht and beef stroganoff, we went to the town of Pushkin where, in 1905, Czar Nicholas moved his family to try to keep their son and heir Alexis’s hemophilia secret. There they became involved with Rasputin who could relieve the pain of the bruising. With the rise of Communism, Rasputin predicted the end of the monarchy. He was killed December, 1916. Poisoning didn’t work. They shot him twice and dumped him in the canal. On autopsy they found his lungs full of water so, in the end, he drowned. July, 1918, the Romanov family was executed.

Catherine’s Palace is 18 miles from downtown. It took us 45 minutes to get there by bus. It used to take Catherine a week. Of course, she stopped along the way to visit friends. Entering the grounds, we passed a Holocaust memorial. No Jews in Pushkin survived. Zero. None. Germans were in St. Petersburg 28 months. They were efficient. 

The only change we noticed since we were at the Palace about 13 years ago, was there was more scaffolding, more restoration workers, and more Chinese. Hoards of Chinese tourists vied for space. The toilet became a chess game. Groups tried to out-maneuver each other. We won. Our local guide blocked off the men’s room and the women on our tour took it over. Footies were required for all touring in the Palace. Unfortunately, they didn’t plan for Western men with size 15 shoes. We convinced David it was ok to just cover his toes. 

I won’t try to go through the history of Russian royalty, but it’s a lot easier than learning the Kings of France. Briefly, Peter’s daughter was Elizabeth, and his wife was Catherine. After that Alexanders and Nickolases alternated. The grand palace rooms were splendid with styles varying from predominately baroque to a sprinkling of rococo and Italianate. The most famous and infamous is the Amber Room. It is literally floor to ceiling amber panels. Russians tried to protect it in WWII, before Germans arrived. When they began dismantling the panels, they fell apart. In a stroke of genius, Russians decided to hide the amber behind false walls. But Germans weren’t uninformed. They had blueprints of the Palace and noticed the dimensions of one room was smaller than indicated. They removed the false walls and moved the amber to Kaliningrad. To this day, that amber hasn’t been found. All but the ceiling has been replaced with new amber echoing the old room. An astounding fact is that the palace was trashed by the Germans, and an attempt was made to blow it up. The explosion wasn’t successful, but a fire raged. It took from the end of WWII to present for the current restoration to be done. It will be years more before it is complete. 

Traveling is a common hobby for Russians. Going to the US is expensive and getting a visa isn’t guaranteed. It costs $300, non-refundable, and they have to go to Moscow to apply. So, they travel to countries that don’t require visas: Israel, Egypt, India, etc. Those are also warm countries. Even Bob was shocked by a sign that said if you’re going on vacation have a good trip. Be sure your taxes are paid beforehand or you’re not going anywhere.

We walked to dinner following Bob who has always chosen well. Graf In was charmingly illuminated by lamps of hanging crystal wine goblets. The menu was in Russian and English and illustrated as if it was an upscale Denny’s. It didn’t take long before there were gales of laughter over the translations. Here are a few:

          Tupa service     Tuna cervice 

          Deer ravioli with cowberry sauce     There is such a thing as a cowberry here

          Dim Sam        Dim Sum

          Soup from soup   Soup made from mushrooms found under an aspen tree

          Tartar in Russian letters is TAP TAP

          Deer in moose sauce was my misunderstanding. It was in mousse sauce

          I thought I’d ordered salad with beef, but it was salad with beets

Bob ordered a Bear Mule not to be confused with a Moscow Mule. It is a drink served in a bear mug. It’s a mixture of vodka, honey, pine cone syrup, Pepsi, lemon, & smoke syrup (no idea). 

On the walk back, David and one of the group were intently talking. She came out to him. My gaydar was once again correct. The poor woman had waited until she was 60 to accept who she was. I don’t know how old she is now, but she’s not much more than that.

Last night, having mastered the TV, we got into bed and turned off the lights. The escape warning sign glowed in the dark. I may hang a towel over it tonight.

Tomorrow we have a later start and free time before we head to The Hermitage.

Toby

Dome of Catherine's Chapel

Bob and Bear Mule

Entering Russia

Oct. 7, 2018- Entering Russia

I must tell you about the ballet last night. The Opera House was a 10 minute walk away, and Bob led us there. After he was assured we knew the way back, he left. We checked our coats and proceeded to our seats which were second balcony center. They were optimal for us. The theater was smaller than expected. Leg room was fine and we were close enough to clearly see every nuance and expression. I would compare it to the size of a Broadway theater. We were seated behind a row of little girls who must have been there with their dance instructor. They were all blond and entranced, leaning forward in their seats throughout the performance. 

Goblin was first performed in 1943. That puts it during WWII when Russians were seen as saviors from the Germans. The theme, based on an Estonian folk tale (The Master), is the struggle between good and evil, the devil and man (a factory owner), capitalism and communism. Lighting effects added to the clarification of messaging and the theme was updated by flashing US dollars and the Euro as symbols of evil. Money falling from the sky at the behest of the devil didn’t add subtlety. In the end, the devil was sent back to hell and the commune emerged as a unifying force. 

I won’t attempt to critique the dancers or choreography since I’m no expert or aficionado. I did notice Russian folk-dance moves incorporated into the performance. All I can say is the experience of being in Estonia and watching an Estonian company perform a ballet by an Estonian was a treat. It didn’t hurt that the choreographer was Marina Kesler. Kessler is my maiden name :)

At intermission a few of us were drawn to a monitor showing performances that had taken place in the past. Several were based on American shows and we were inspired to sing along in English as the performers sang in Estonian. My Fair Lady was my favorite. When we began mimicking the dances, the locals noticed. Being Estonians, they took furtive glances and made no comments. David just told me that the woman selling programs turned the sound up as we joined in. So subtle. So helpful.

Oleg, our bus driver for this leg of the trip, is Russian and unlike our former driver. He immediately took over this morning and laid down the law. To quote, “One moment. Seatbelts to use. Police get money if not wear. Your money, not me. Second moment. No fear asking questions. Don’t afraid at me. I very friendly.” There were a lot of “second moments.” I had a question, but was “feared” to ask. Why are we heading North when flocks of birds are filling the sky and going in the opposite direction?

We settled in for a 90-minute video of The Singing Revolution (available on Amazon and You Tube) to summarize our Estonian history lesson. Their mantra is “patience is a weapon, and caution a virtue.” After a 5,000-year history, Estonian culture was almost snuffed out but for one tradition. Estonians love to sing. They form local choirs of hundreds that unite every five years at the amphitheater, the Song Festival Grounds, I mentioned in an earlier email. Choirs come together on stage to sing traditional songs as one. Thousands in the audience join in. And so, when recent invasions took place the singing went on. From gatherings of 25,000, numbers grew as the USSR demanded songs in Russian praising Communism. In 1947, Estonians included a song praising their forefathers. It was in Estonian. Somehow, it slipped through. In 1969, Estonians were more organized. They realized they’d been sold out by the illegal Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact between Stalin and Hitler, and were never legally part of Russia. At the end of the performance of propaganda songs, they added Estonian melodies. The band was ordered to play loudly to drown them out. The audience joined in. The Soviets relented and allowed the composer of a particularly favorite work to conduct the choir.

Then Gorbachev made an error. He introduced glasnost, free speech. Estonians took baby steps in expressing political views to test the waters. When they weren’t arrested, they pushed the envelope. There were 100,000 at the next song festival. This time they sang as usual then raised illegal Estonian flags they’d secreted away. In 1988, 300,000 raised their voices in song. Shortly thereafter, the human chain was formed uniting all the Baltic countries. Gorbachev was arrested and removed from power for being weak. The Soviet army was sent in to capture the TV tower and halt communications. They were met by a human barricade of Estonians. The army retreated. The Soviet Union was collapsing.

The lyrics of a camp song comes to mind: “Not by might and not by power, but by spirit alone shall all men live in peace.” Estonians absorbed that spirit and sang their way to a non-violent revolution. 

After lunch in Narva, Estonia, we were ready to cross the border. Bob made a game of it, and we each guessed the number of minutes it would take. There were four passport/visa checks (Estonia, Russia, NATO, and Schengen). The group was lucky that it only took 46 minutes. We had guessed longer. Oleg’s record had been 45 minutes. The winner got a huge chocolate bar that she shared. So, all of us won... except for bathroom quality. Cleanliness and toilet paper standards dropped significantly. Oh, and you want a toilet seat too?

St. Petersburg is rare in that it was built according to a plan. Most cities spring up in all directions, but Peter the Great had a vision. Because of its canals, it is called The Venice of the East. Because it has only 45-60 clear days per year, it is called the Rain Capital. We are down the block from Pushkin’s home, across from a canal and American medical center, and staying in the Domina Hotel. The hallways are dark with walls covered in red flocked paper and woodwork painted red. It reminds us of a brothel, but no one in the group admits to having been in one. Each room has clues about an author. We are to guess and report our solution at dinner. Ours had a book in English by Steig Larsen and one in Russian by Edgar Rice Burroughs. It took us a while to translate that one.

We all had a challenge turning off our TVs. The remote seems to turn it off, but then a message appears that you’ve lost the signal. Can’t have that glowing all night. One person pushed the “off” button on the side of the screen and that worked. High tech. 

They’re very concerned with safety here. There are diagrams with escape routes in the halls and our rooms as well as escape bags hanging near the windows. They contain harnesses that you attach to the window frame, put on, and rappel to the ground. When you remove the harness it automatically rises up to be used by those remaining in the room. 

Our evening orientation walk in the rain took us past glorious Baroque buildings suited to Peter’s taste. Their pastel colors glowed with dramatic lighting. We crossed streets as a group and, even in crosswalks, were hurried through by turning drivers inching their way along, almost pushing us out of the way. Much different than in the Baltic States. 

In recognition that we only have one week of travel left, I changed my jeans today. I could have gone another week, but I didn’t want to bring anything home I hadn’t worn. You might wonder why I haven’t complained about doing hand laundry. That is because Bob collected laundry in Tallinn and had it done for a reasonable price. 

Tomorrow we tour the city. Bob has already told us that every church we’ll see is Russian Orthodox unless he says differently.

Toby

 

Entry paper with my name in Russian

Hotel (brothel) hallway

Evacuation bag

Still Tallinn, Estonia

Oct. 6, 2018-Still Tallinn, Estonia

Still raining. My attitude has adjusted about the weather. I’ve amped up my layers. In addition to underwear, I wore a tank top, long sleeved turtleneck, sweater, decorative scarf, and jacket. Augmenting that I had a practical scarf and earmuffs. The hood on my jacket freed my hands from an umbrella. 

Our speaker this morning was more optimistic than any we’ve heard. She said that Estonians are socially awkward and private. Their nightmare is having to ride an elevator with someone else aboard. 

The Baltics are celebrating 100 years of independence which sounds better than 27 years. They’re skipping over occupations by Germans and Russians and count from the last time they were free until now. Unlike the other Baltic countries, Estonia was eager to establish a democracy including their Russian nationals. Efforts were made to accommodate the differences and rights, so today 80% of Russians are citizens. One area Estonians forgot about was the amount of propaganda on TV in Russian that caters to those who only speak that language. The government is now programming more balanced shows in Russian hoping to counteract other influences. 

The youth were leaders in the new nation and have held the power. The Estonian parliament’s average age is 35 as opposed to 60+ in Lithuania and Latvia. Parliament is unicameral and elected by the people. Representatives are chosen from each region, based on population, to choose the president. As an incentive to bolster the economy, corporate taxes were eliminated and IT promoted. Children learn to program from grade one.

In 2009, the economic bubble burst here. The government chose belt tightening as a solution. While salaries plunged there were no demonstrations or riots. Some attribute it to weak unions.  Others say it was patriotic to help out. By 2011, they’d recovered. In 2004, they were accepted into the EU and joined NATO. Inflation hit, but they’re tickled to be under the protective psychological umbrella of NATO.

Education has always been important. They now have one of the highest literacy rates. As early as 1800, girls had to go to school in order to be eligible to marry. But there is a downside with high education and low salaries. Their youth go to Finland where prices are the same and salaries are double.

With the challenges, she said that Estonians are the happiest of all the Baltics. They treasure their freedom and are so small they have an inferiority complex so work harder. They are proud that the Estonian language is used on Game of Thrones even if it is spoken by the “bad guys.”

We were met by the same city guide we had yesterday and took a tram ride Estonian style.  Waiting for a tram is similar to a grab bag. There are trams from the Soviet era, modern trams, and those given to Estonia from Spain for unknown reasons. We rode a Soviet one.

We got off at a 300- year old public park built by Peter the Great. I guess his summer palace in St. Petersburg wasn’t enough, so he built a mini-duplicate here. At the far end of the park is the KUMU. It is the abbreviation for the Museum of Art. The building, opened in 2006, is unexpected and strikingly modern in a good way. Designed by a Finn, the news that he won the architectural contest came to him on April 1, 1994. He thought it was a joke and didn’t respond. Today, it houses Estonian art from the 18th century to present including that of the Soviet era. There are temporary exhibits. At present, Konrad Magi is on view. His and most of the art seems derivative. Magi, in particular, echoed Van Gogh. Others clearly reflected Matisse, Monet, etc. 

After lunch we walked around a modern multi-level mall and found nothing new in the material universe. We did have a bathroom challenge. We needed 20 cents for entry. The change machine was broken so we inserted 50 cents thinking we’d get change. We lost the money. I considered I’d already paid, so when a group of women entered for one payment, I joined them. That left David without change. I had a Euro and asked some women for change explaining the situation. One gave me the 20 cents and refused repayment saying it was her good deed for the day. 

We picked up bread, cheese, and meat for sandwiches in the room tonight. We have to leave for the ballet at 6:30 PM. The Estonian Ballet Company is performing The Goblin, the first Estonian ballet (1943). I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. We have time on the bus for me to write. We tour a bit more in Estonia then will spend almost 2 hours crossing the border into Russia.

Museum of Modern Estonian Art

Toby

Candidate for "Me Too" movement

Tallinn, Estonia Walking Tour

Oct. 5, 2018-Tallinn, Estonia Walking Tour

Added to wind and cold, we have rain. It was bound to happen. I thought we’d drive around the city and the guide would point out historic sites, but NO. We pulled up to a park where she launched into a lecture about the wonderful amphitheater where Estonians famously sang themselves into a revolution against the USSR and began a human chain of liberation that ultimately stretched to Vilnius, Lithuania. I was totally impressed until she decided we had to exit the bus to get a closer look. There are hills here, so we hobbled down the cobblestones over what becomes their ski hill in winter to take pictures of a plastic shrouded stage. I was first back on the bus.

The real entertainment was the city guide’s sense of humor. She told us that Estonia is about the size of New Hampshire and Vermont combined. The Estonian language came from tribes that crossed the Ural Mts. some 11,000 years ago. Some went to Hungary and some went to Finland, thus those languages are related. Those who stayed here speak a language with no gender distinctions and no future tense. She said that is why Estonians have no future and no sex. No one else in the world speaks it so it was used as code in WWI. Again, no one else in the world speaks Estonian so the youth tend to stay here. She said learning Estonian makes a good hobby after retirement. There are 14 declensions for each word. Have at it.

The next amazing site of a scintillating morning was the TV tower built for the Moscow Olympics. If you recall, the Games were boycotted by the US and others. The restrooms were most inviting and we were grateful to have a warm place to “rest.”

We continued our drive past a forest graveyard. Estonia is the most unreligious country in the EU, and some prefer their pagan roots. They believe that spirits of the dead return to trees. Indeed, they have walled cemeteries in the woods. It’s against the law to cut down the trees. Who knows, it may house the soul of your relative.

Estonians don’t have to deal with the same guilt about their Jewish populations as do the other Baltic States. In 1940, Russia deported the Jews to Siberia. When the Nazis arrived, there were none to be found. Estonia was declared to be Judenrein. Today, there are 3,000 Jews living there. We drove by a glass walled modern synagogue illustrating how secure the community feels. The annex was a large, three storied building for classrooms and community activities. 

We rode up a large hill to experience the old city. It is built on two levels. The top has suffered fires and has been rebuilt, so it was the lower part that is older, more authentic, and more interesting. We skittered on the stones trying to hear the guide over the other tourists and through earmuffs. At some point I zoned out.  All in all, it’s quaint, colorful, and charming. Souvenir shops and restaurants are in every nook and cranny. My ears perked up when the guide pointed out a restaurant favored by students (Kompressor). When the time came, a couple from Minneapolis remembered where it was. It turned out to be a pancake shop. Their pancakes are crepes. I finally got my mushroom soup and savory lox and smoked cheese crepes. We lingered, chatted, and exchanged stories until we were sated and warm. We took off in different directions nosing in and out of shops. Hot chocolate is big here and the locals go to McDonald’s. It was absolutely not as delicious as the hot chocolate we had on Mt. Etna. This could have been Swiss Miss instant. We rested our feet, used their toilet, and walked the 20 minutes back to the hotel which we actually found. We just had to keep heading downhill.

We all walked to dinner together. It was good but unremarkable, except for the young woman at a nearby table. Those facing her were intrigued by her décolletage. From the comments, I heard, she was very beautiful. Since I couldn’t see her, I pretended to take a selfie and took a picture of her. David didn’t approve.

Tomorrow we will ride the free public transportation to a park where we’ll trek through wet leaves to a museum of contemporary art. 

Toby

Amphitheater

David and typical souvenir shop statue

Pastries at McDonald's Cafe

Riga and Environs

Oct. 3, 2018- Riga and Environs

At 7:30 AM we were on the road passing ghostlike birch forests with only coffee to sustain us. We were going to be guests of a family who was hosting our breakfast. Their 10-acre farm was in the town of Ligante, about an hour away. Their business is making fruit wine, but the fifth generation now living on the property came to that by way of an interesting history. 

The family were farmers. The recent generations lost almost everything to the Soviets. They were given good advice by a neighbor that allowed them to fool the officials into thinking they were poor peasants. The woman told them to put blankets on the windows instead of curtains and place a huge bowl in the kitchen to appear as if that was their only washing facility. That ruse allowed them to keep their house but not their land. Since their family was large enough to fill the quota, no strangers were moved into their home. They buried the family silver in the garden with trees as markers. After 50 years under Soviet rule, they can’t find the burial site. They reclaimed their land with the pullout of the USSR and began a lucrative furniture making business. The most popular birch wood products were cutting boards. Eventually, they contracted to make them for Walmart and Costco. The family prospered until 2006, when there was a fire in their factory. Overnight they lost everything. They would have lost their property and home if they weren’t such hard workers and entrepreneurs. The father went to work in Norway and earned enough in six months to pay off the bank. Then he went to Finland to study wine making. After much experimentation at home, they came up with their formula. The business has grown and their fruit wines have won awards in the Baltics. They do not yet export. To complete the circle, the son is a woodworker who sells birch cutting boards and spoons on a small scale. We “helped” him carve a spoon and I noticed tiny wooden Stars of David all over the floor. He said they were leftovers from snowflakes he carved. I started picking them up and the group joined in. He was clueless. 

A special treat was traveling down the road to meet the matriarch. She’s 75 years old, a widow, and lives with the boyfriend she met on the internet in the Soviet apartment where she raised her family. It has 2 bedrooms, a bath, kitchen and living area. People who have seen such apartments elsewhere say it was identical in layout to those in other countries down to “OO” marking the door to the toilet. The furnishings are basic. The apartment was given to her when the Soviets left.  For 199 years, the only industry in Ligante was a paper factory. She worked there 44 years during which time she earned her degree in economics and rose through the ranks. The factory survived the Germans and USSR, but went out of business in the last few years. Rumor has it that a Lithuanian living in the US wants to buy it and restore the industry. When asked, grandma said she preferred the Soviet times when she didn’t have to worry about getting a job or paying rent & utilities. Interesting how people forget about neighbors disappearing to Siberia.

Not far from the village was our lunch stop. A couple in their 40’s decided to move from Riga and live off the grid. He consults in IT and works from home. Their three children are in their 20’s and live in Riga. Ten years ago, they bought 4 acres and moved a log house from 100 miles away. They dug a basement and reassembled the house. They’ve remodeled the interior and are growing a limited amount of produce for their own use. They tired of raising rabbits and are considering chickens. Although they were told they’d only need electric radiators for heating, they couldn’t fill the chinks between the logs well enough to prevent the North wind from sneaking in. They resorted to siding the exterior and installing a wood fired boiler type furnace in the basement and piping hot water under the floor for radiant heat. I can attest to its efficiency.

We had the usual conversations about the Soviets. The wife said that she was in school at the time and the only changes she saw were in the language taught and the textbooks. The teachers stayed the same. The couple were not optimistic about the upcoming Saturday elections. They think that the Russian party will win the most seats. But the mood was lifted when a birthday cake appeared and we celebrated with one of our group members. We sang “happy birthday” in English, Canadian (French), Hebrew, Latvian, Lithuanian, and Russian. Then Rana, our Turkish observer, sang it in Turkish. What a hoot. This is an amazingly cohesive group.

Speaking of divided heritage, Bob told us of a town in southeast Latvia where the majority is the Russian ethnic minority. Latvians were so worried about an uprising from that town they considered building a wall around it. In effect, they would make it into a ghetto. The effort failed.

We came back to our hotel at 5:30 PM and were too tired and full to eat dinner. At least we have a later departure tomorrow. We’re off to Estonia.

Toby

Winery kitchen

David woodworking

Communist apartment kitchen

Log House for Lunch

Riga, Latvia

Oct. 2, 2018-Riga, Latvia

Our brains were challenged and stimulated at an after-breakfast lecture by a professor of political science. He described the pullout of the Soviets in 1991, and establishment of a free Latvia saying, "Be careful what you wish for." 

Latvia was ill prepared to set up a government and ancillary services after 50 years of having been "taken care of" by the USSR. The youth who were the primary freedom fighters took control and behaved as if they were dividing a birthday cake. They were 20-somethings who decided "you can be Secretary of State, and I’ll be in charge of the military." The language changed, there were no institutions in place (eg, medical, educational, utilities, etc.). Property was privatized and returned to the original family owners except for the Jewish community where they were either dead or had fled. In buildings that had been made into apartments, tenants were kicked out, and original owners staked their claims. Somehow, they figured out hybrid socialized and private health care, a unicameral parliament that elects the president, universities that are pay as you go for a nominal fee, and have adapted to several currencies on the way to the Euro.

Being a citizen is complex. If you lived in Latvia before 1940, you were automatically a citizen. If you weren’t Latvian and qualified under the 1940 rule, your children weren’t citizens. Russians have to learn Latvian and take a test to gain citizenship as do their children yet to be born. Several Russians prefer not to be citizens and not vote in order to hold a "non citizen" passport and be able to freely visit relatives in Russia. A fear of Latvians is that too many Russians will gain citizenship and Latvians will become a minority in their own country. Skilled workers are needed, but refugees aren’t welcome. Latvians say they have enough trouble figuring out their own destiny let alone taking care of displaced people with a host of unique problems.　

Latvians are primarily Lutheran due to their Germanic roots. With that, they struggle with their complicity with Nazis in WWII, their identity as victims, and their own singular extermination of Jews. Rumbale Cemetery was too far from town for us to visit. It is the only Soviet site mentioning Jews who died in WWII. We did not walk past the memorial to the synagogue that was burned down with 200 Jews inside three days before the Nazis entered Riga. We did, however, see the one that survived and is in use. Built in 1903, it sat between Nazi occupied buildings. It was thought too dangerous to burn the synagogue lest the German buildings caught fire.　

The future is uncertain. There was an economic collapse in 1998, and 2009. The Russians are licking their lips hoping the Russian minority residents will ultimately fall into line or be brought into line as in Crimea and Ukraine.

Our local guide met us for a taste of Riga on our own. We rode to the old city on a trolley (electric bus). The route was along the river and past manicured parks linked by bridges and paths. We spent time in the sprawling market and were introduced to Black Balsam (good for what ails you) which is only tolerable when flavored with black currants. We walked around squares and old buildings trying to absorb which was what.

Lunch was pork cutlets (chicken for us) and some strawberry gelatin dessert (ick). The "on our own part" came after lunch. Bob abandoned us. We split up for wandering time. Using actual paper city maps, we navigated our way back to the hotel. We found a modern multi-story mall and ducked in looking for toilets. We failed. Toilets were found at the stylish Grand Hotel Kempinski where we walked through the lobby and to the bar.

We joined Bob at Singh’s Indian Restaurant across from the hotel. Excellent. Bedtime is early. We leave for a day of exploring villages and meals with local hosts.

The story of the cat in the photo below is: the owner of the building had a feud with a nearby guild. He placed sculptures of a cat on each of two turrets. To give the guild his version of the finger, he placed the cats with their rear ends facing the guild hall. Over time, the cats have been rotated so the more acceptable end faces the guild. 　

Toby

Beautiful old architecture

Synagogue

Black Cat

Central Market Bra Stall

Klaipeda, Lithuania to Riga, Latvia

 Oct. 1, 2018-Klaipeda, Lithuania to Riga, Latvia

The roads here are good, but I wouldn’t say they take you on scenic odysseys. The terrain is flat. Most hills are manmade. That includes one considered among the creepiest places on earth. The Hill of Crosses has a dual background. Legend says that a farmer and his wife prayed for a child to no avail. Eventually, they were blessed with a daughter. At age 14, she became ill. There seemed to be no cure. One night, the farmer dreamed of an enchanted valley. The dream showed that he had to build a cross, carry it to that valley, and leave his sins behind. His daughter’s health returned. A more historic version is that between the 10th to 14th centuries, a small chapel was built for soldiers moving from one battle to another. By the 1800’s it became a pilgrimage destination where people could meditate and leave crosses to show they’d been there. At last count, there were 400,000 crosses. The Soviets attempted to remove the crosses, but after three tries, they realized more would be placed to fill in for those destroyed. They gave up. The custom is for visitors to bring or buy a cross at the conveniently located shop. To our surprise there were Stars of David and Muslim symbols for sale. 

I’ve never seen such a massive display of crosses. It outdid even the cemetery in Normandy. As I got closer and walked among them, it was as if an army surrounded me. I felt constricted and unwelcome. Negative feelings of the oppression that crosses symbolize to me weighed me down. We’d bought a Star and carried it along almost as a totem until we found a place to leave it. No site was comfortable until we came upon a large placard of a Star of David shining in the mix. We hung our small token and felt better for it.

By then it was lunchtime. We haven’t repeated foods the last four days despite eating Lithuanian cooking every meal. Lunch was cabbage rolls served with pickles and mashed potatoes. Our rolls were stuffed with minced chicken instead of pork. Can Latvian cuisine be much different?

We had long drives between points but we’re all good nappers. Bob used the time to fill us in on our next site and wax philosophical about religion, politics, and humankind. I think he’s in his 30’s and has a generational naivety about him. 

We entered Latvia without drama or notice until the signage changed. We drove to Rundale Palace and were in for a surprise. Even Bob didn’t know an HBO special on Catherine the Great was being filmed. Although Helen Mirren was starring, she was not in evidence. There were many costumed extras being prepped and spruced for the next scene. We gawked and took photos until our local guide came, then we followed her like the obedient ducklings we have become. The palace was built in 1736, by a local duke who was in favor with a Russian princess. When she died, he, his wife and three sons were exiled to Siberia. They were permitted to return to complete the palace years later, when Catherine the Great took the throne.  The original architects were those who designed Catherine’s Palace in St. Petersburg and the gardens of Versailles. The rooms have been restored with care down to the silk wallpaper. Furnishings are of the period with some being donated by the remaining family who live in Germany.

We pulled into Riga, the fastest growing city in the old Soviet territory, in time for dinner. Bob gave us a thumbnail history saying that the heaviest influence is Germanic stemming from the Livonian Knights who occupied the area. Today 47% of the citizens identify as Russian including the president. I have a feeling we’ll be frequently crossing the Daugava River between the old and new towns. One of the pluses of this location is that it flows into the Gulf of Riga then the Baltic Sea.

Our bags were dropped in our rooms at the Hestia Hotel Jugend and we learned the answer to the question of whether there will be differences in Latvian food. The answer is “yes.” Most had lasagne and panna cotta for dinner. Well, we had chicken breast and panna cotta.

Tomorrow we walk the city.

Toby 

Hill of Crosses

David placing Star 

Actors waiting

Klaipeda, Lithuania-Outdoor Day

Sept. 30, 2018- Klaipeda, Lithuania-Outdoor Day

Winds blew in and clouds raced across the sky. The temperature dropped a bit and we awoke before daylight. These are among some of my favorite things. NOT! But group travel is regimented. When they go, we go. For a day spent in nature, it wasn’t the most auspicious, but it was, to borrow a phrase, one of the “funnest” days we’ve spent here.

Our bus boarded a ferry for the Curonian Spit (peninsula), a UNESCO site, which separates the lagoon from the Baltic Sea. We sailed 7 minutes across the Curonian Lagoon, hiked up the Hill of Witches, and traipsed among the pines on a well- groomed path. Around each bend were intricate wood sculptures of witches (80 in all) done by varying artists in 1979. Our guide relayed tales and legends as we gawked, took photos, and made crass comments about our interpretation of some of the poses. The sculptures illustrate creatures from pagan legends and culminate in a clearing where Midsummer Night revelry is still celebrated. We celebrated surviving the cold with shots of 3-9’s. It is an amber liquor with 27 herbs, thus the name.

The Spit has evolved since its settlement in the 1200’s. The Baltic side had “walking dunes” made of fine sand. By the 1600’s, the trees that held back the movement of the dunes had been harvested and the sand was encroaching on and burying towns. Trees were replanted and are carefully monitored. The woods serve as home to moose, deer, and wild boar. No hunting is permitted. Since the 1800’s the Spit has been a resort and artist’s destination.

That is, no animal hunting occurs. Hunting for amber is a different point. We were treated to a walk on the beach in a modest gale to hunt for those precious pieces of resin. I found several that were so tiny I had to step on them to hold them in place so they wouldn’t blow away. All of the 16 childlike seniors in our group stumbled down to the beach and braved the blowing sand and waves that threatened to bury or drown us. The only damage was that David’s shoes and pant legs got soaked and our driver had to vacuum sand from the bus.

Lunch was a hoot. Our hostess was a former singer who still yearned for an audience. It wasn’t long before she had us clapping, dancing, and singing after a lunch of cabbage soup and fried local pike. To me, the song’s refrain sounded like we were repeating “Lipitor, Lipitor.” Very appropriate.

And now we were off to learn to be expert amber analysts and finishers. On a day of whimsy, our teacher was a blowsy blond woman who chanted our instructions as if she were a kindergarten teacher. We sat at a picnic table outdoors (these are hardy folk) and eventually joined her in singing, “sand the amber up and down then round and round;” “ wet the string and put it in the hole, put it in the hole.” It was bizarre, we were in stitches, and all had fun. The finale was standing in a circle holding hands as she threw amber dust on a fire to please the spirits. 

I slept on the return to our hotel but did manage to hear that Klaipeda was settled by Germans in the 18th century and became Russian after WWII. There is still a piece of Russia, Kaliningrad, on the mainland at the south end of the Spit. The explanation of how a piece of it is still Russian though separated from the Motherland by Lithuania and Belarus remains a puzzle to me. 

Six of us had dinner with Bob. It’s a safe bet he knows the good restaurants. I really wanted mushroom soup, but it was made with bacon. I ended up copping out with salmon on salad. David had cheese filled dumplings the size of baseballs. They were too dense for my liking. Bob promised to give us the recipe for the chocolate dessert we had. It requires no cooking. It’s crumbled shortbread with a dense chocolate batter poured over it. I don’t think I was fond enough of it to bother. 

We leave for Riga, Latvia tomorrow.

Toby

Us on Hill of Witches

Amber we found

Looking for amber