In the Baltics

Immediately after the first week of PST, I flew out of Skopje to meet my mother in the Baltics.  This trip was the first time since I left for Peace Corps that I would see my mother for such an extended period of time, and it would be her first time in Europe since she was much younger.  Also, we would be visiting our relatives in Lithuania, which meant that the trip was more than an opportunity to get to see each other- it was also a chance to connect with our heritage.

Estonian Flag

Latvian Flag

Lithuanian Flag

History of the Baltics: Three stories joined hand-in-hand

Although each country has its own unique history and culture, the Baltics eventually seemed to mesh together in my mind.  I mean, Monopoly even has a single property called “Baltic Avenue”.  Colder, very far north, formerly part of the Soviet Union, each containing an Old Town, and very sparsely populated- these were attributes that seemed to pertain to each Baltic country.  However, since leaving the Soviet Union and joining the EU, each country has begun to differentiate itself.  Estonia seems more Nordic, and it shares linguistic qualities with Finland.  Lithuania and Latvia share similar linguistic qualities, but whereas Lithuania is familiar to me due to growing up with many Lithuanian influences, Latvia only stood out for me as the Baltic with the largest Russian minority.

In many ways it is easier to talk about the countries from now, and then to go back in time since history has taken the Baltics along the same path until the near future.  Despite being a part of the European Union, I assumed that the Baltics would still be in development, especially since Peace Corps was present in these countries about a decade ago (from 1992-2002).  Not only did Peace Corps leave these countries at the same time, but all three countries joined the EU simultaneously, in 2004.  Only recently did Lithuania adopt the Euro (the switch in currency was made in January 2015, while Latvia adopted it in 2004 and Estonia adopted it in 2011).

While the size of the three Baltic states is pretty large (seemingly larger than former Yugoslavia), it is estimated that the population numbers about 6.2 million people, which is less than Serbia.  In comparison, Russia is estimated to have a population of 143.5 million people, which means that the people of the Baltics would have comprised of less than 3 percent if it were still part of the former Soviet Union.   However, their location on the North Atlantic coast likely gave them strategic importance for the USSR.

While taking the free walking tours in each city, I discovered quite a bit about each country, but their histories are so intertwined that I needed to cite a secondary source in order to falsify history on this blog.  According to Encyclopedia Brittanica, as Moscow began to ease its grip on its satellite states, Estonia, Lithuania, and Latvia experienced a rush in independence movements.  Embodying their solidarity was a chain of 500,000 people linked across the three countries, known as the Baltic Way.  Many of the people were singing in order to voice their desire for independence, and thus the simple act of song was symbolic for the Baltic people.  In 1990, the parliaments of each country declared independence from the USSR, but Moscow did not recognize their independence movements.  Soviet troops even violently suppressed these movements by occupying a television tower in Vilnius in 1991. 

The independence movements in the Balkans contested the German-Soviet pact of 1939, which permitted the Soviet Union to invade the Baltics during World War II.  Many countries, including the USA, did not recognize the USSR’s territorial claim, which was reinforced at the 1980 Moscow Olympics, as the USSR was invading Afghanistan.  Many countries boycotted the Olympics, and Estonia’s effort (still seen as many as an occupied territory) to spruce up Tallinn in anticipation of their hosting the sailing competition was thwarted by a lack of tourists to the city.   But in 1991, Russia recognized the independence of the Baltics, and these countries were granted freedom again.

Of course, independence in the 1990s was not the first time the Baltics formed their own independent states.  Lithuania was part of a huge kingdom, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.  At one point it was the largest kingdom in Europe.  However, loose ties among the gentry and overexpansion led to its breakup.  Eventually, much of Lithuania itself was divided between Prussia (Germany) and Russia, and eventually all of the territory was controlled by Imperial Russia.  Sweden ruled over Latvia and Estonia for much of the 1600s, but was eventually ceded by Russia.  Germany also had a cultural and economic influence early within the region, especially in important port towns like Tallinn and Riga where the Hanseatic League was active.  Acting as important trade stops en route to Russia brought riches (usually in the form of duties) to Tallinn and Riga.  Even the French temporarily controlled parts of the Baltics, when Napoleon invaded Imperialist Russia through Vilnius in 1912 (Riga, anticipating an invasion by Napoleon’s forces at the time, burned its suburbs accidentally during a false alarm.  Napoleon never marched through Riga).

By the 1900s, Estonia and Latvia urbanized significantly, especially as Imperialist Russia abolished the feudal system.  Largely rural, many Estonians and Latvians immigrated to the cities, which at the time had a significant German population.  During this period, Riga doubled in population to half a million inhabitants and to become the third-largest city in Imperial Russia, and its port became one of the most significant in the world.  The large walls that once defended the city were torn to create a canal, and industrialization thrived.  Lithuania, on the other hand, did not urbanize as much, since the Russians feared granting land to peasant communes, as Lithuanian nobility still heavily leaned to their Polish counterparts.  Thus, instead of immigrating to the cities, many Lithuanians left Europe (many leaving for the United States, as the book “The Jungle” can attest).  Instead, Russians and Jews managed many of the urban trades in cities like Vilnius and Kaunas, and until 1959, Poles constituted a large majority of the population of Vilnius.

During World War I, Imperialist Russia collapsed due to the Bolshevik Revolution, and all of the Baltic area was ceded to the Germans.  At first, the three Baltic states were given puppet statuses under German rule, but by 1922, the independence of all three countries were recognized, most significantly by war-defeated Germany and the revolution-wrecked Soviet Union.  All three countries attempted to remain neutral, especially during World War II.  However, the secret pact in 1939 between Hitler and Stalin agreed that Estonia and Latvia would become parts of the Soviet Union, while Lithuania would be part of Nazi Germany.  However, the Lithuanians declined to assist the Germans in conquering back-then Polish Vilnius, the Lithuanians were also ceded to the Soviets.  The Nazis, with the alliance broken between them and the Soviets, invaded the Baltics in 1941, and Soviets returned in 1944 to rule for almost 50 years.  During its rule, the Soviets managed large population transfers, as thousands of Poles were forced from Vilnius to Poland, dramatically altering the demographics of Vilnius (which after became majority Lithuanian), and a nativist movement in Latvia backfired, resulting in a larger Russification of the country when compared to Estonia and Lithuania.

Traveling farther north than I have ever been before

Pretty much as soon as we finished our Community Development technical training on Friday, which was the trainees’ last session for the week, I joined the Peace Corps transportation and made my way to Skopje.  The next morning, I took two flights and arrived in Tallinn as the sun set.  As soon as I stepped out into the streets of Tallinn, a rush of autumn flooded my senses.  The brisk cool air undeterred by any mountains made me shiver despite lugging my pack as I walked to the hostel.  The scent of rotting, damp deciduous leaves filled my nostrils, and I immediately felt like I was back in Chicago on an autumn night in October.

Identifying my hostel was easy considering the level of noise emanating from the party upstairs.  Supposedly, a large group of European exchange students who are studying in Helsinki were partying that weekend in the hostel, so the hostel was teeming with drunk, young people.  The check-in desk at Bunk’s Monk is the same as the bar, so I pushed my way through backpackers in line for a beer in order to get to my room.  Despite being inundated by thirsty travelers, the staff welcomed me warmly, gave me a complimentary shot, and showed me to my room.  After showering, tired from a week’s worth of work and with nothing in my belly, I made the wise decision to participate in the pub crawl.  Slipping through Tallinn’s old town with rambunctious travelers was not the ideal way to start my travel, but I figured this would be one of the few times I would be able to participate in such tomfoolery before I joined my mother in Lithuania.

Tour in Tallinn

Wooden houses on the outskirts

Abandoned prison

The next day, I found a café to conduct a few Skype interviews for AIESEC Tetovo, and then proceeded to tour Tallinn.  The city supposedly has one of the most medieval centers in Europe, and so walking around the cobblestone streets and around old churches was personally a new experience of Europe.  Most striking for me was how weak the sun was, even at noon.  Even though it was just past the autumn equinox, the sun seemed as low in the sky as a late-October day in Chicago.  Tallinn is the most north that I have ever travelled, and it is surprising that the three capitals of the Baltic states (Tallinn, Riga, and even Vilnius) are on the same latitude as coastal Alaska (Tallinn is north of Juneau, while Vilnius is just 3 degrees south of Sitka, AK).  Navigating away from the Old Town, I reached the coast to view the Baltic Sea, the most northern body of seawater that I ever encountered.  Even though I could not touch the water, I enjoyed a quick snack and a beer beachside within an abandoned prison (which was put out of commission only a few years ago).  After enjoying a good meal and hanging with the other guests at the hostel for some time, I went down for a short night of sleep before my 8-hour bus ride to Vilnius the next day.

I also reached Vilnius just as the sun was setting, and without a cell phone to call my mother, I explored the streets of Vilnius in order to reach our hotel from the bus station.  As soon as I climbed the narrow, wooden steps of the hotel, the door to our room opened, allowing my mother and me to be reconnected again.  We decided to find a nearby restaurant where I could indulge in delicious Lithuanian dishes- sauerkraut soup, sausages, and cepelinai.  The food brought me back to a childhood paradise.

The next day, we took a tour of Vilnius, despite the chilly, overcast weather.  Two things to note about Vilnius: there are many churches, and it has a beautiful alternative arts scene in a district called Užipis.  Later that night, I joined with two locals that are a part of AIESEC and that I met during the conference in Bulgaria about a year ago.  We discussed AIESEC and other things over a few beers, but eventually I approached them regarding a problem that my mother and I had- we were meeting her aunts the following day, but my mother was unable to find a translator for the meeting.  My two friends posted some messages to the AIESEC network in Kaunas, and in almost no time they had found a friend who would translate for our visit.  I was both extremely grateful for their assistance and amazed at how a network like AIESEC can accomplish so much at times.

Our hotel in Vilnius

Napoleon's favorite church 

Vilnius Skyline

Main square in Vilnius

Drinks in Vilnius with AIESECers

Our first selfie together, at the top of the fort in Vilnius

Along the river in Kaunas

My grandfather's childhood home

Their barn

Sifting through pictures

Three generations

Once we arrived to Kaunas the next day, we met with our translator, Gabija, and took a taxi to my grandfather’s childhood house.  Once there, we met with my grandfather’s sisters, one who is 79, and the other who is 96.  My mother, visiting them for the first time, began to converse with them and ask many questions about my grandfather.  It was a great opportunity to learn much about him.  Supposedly, he left Kaunas during the middle of World War II to study in Graz (which was likely possible since the Soviet Union and Germany had a tenuous alliance at the time).  There he met my grandmother, moved to Munich, and some time after World War II, left for the United States.  He did not return to Lithuania to visit his family until decades later, when the Soviet Union began to loosen its restrictions on personal liberties.

My grandfather’s sisters, on the other hand, never married, and lived in the same house their whole life.  While they had a flat-screen television and newly installed heaters and windows (probably with the help of my uncle), the house was very modest.  There was also a barn in the backyard, and much of the surrounding land, although recently renovated with newly constructed apartment buildings, was taken from them early during the Soviet times.  Having the opportunity to stand in my grandfather’s childhood home and meet my kin on my mother’s side was a very powerful moment for me.  I have very scant memories of my grandfather since he passed away when I was four (my most vivid is of him watching the Price is Right in the backroom den).  My grandmother died when I was much younger.  Thus, being able to connect with living relatives in Lithuania helped me to feel more rooted on that side of my genealogy.  After touring Kaunas a bit (which, in my opinion, was the most aesthetically appealing and interesting city in the Baltics) and seeing where my grandfather had studied, my mother and I returned to Vilnius.

Our last leg of the trip was to Riga, Latvia.  As I mentioned, by this point all of the Baltics states were sort of meshing together, but my mother and I took the free walking tour, and I was personally surprised by how integral the city was to Imperial Russia.  My urge to see the more far-flung parts of the city probably destroyed my mother’s legs.  But we did see the beautiful houses along one of Riga’s island on the Daugava, and I was able to drink coffee at a cat café.  Given all of the work that enveloped me the weeks prior, I really needed some cat therapy.  That night, I joined another pub crawl at a nearby hostel, and I ran into two blokes that I met last May in Bratislava!  The next morning, my mother and I returned to Macedonia, and while I was very busy with work through the whole week, she was able to see how I lived and meet my host family before she returned to the States.

Our Air BnB in Riga, or as my mother called it, the "Whore House" 

Market in Riga

Cat Cafe

Host mom and real mom in Prilep

Although the timing of this trip was a bit inconvenient, given how much work I had prior to and during the travels, it was great to leave the Balkans temporarily again.  Also, it was the first time I traveled internationally, and I tried my best to convince my mother to get my step-dad and Brian out of the country for a vacation as well.  This trip may also be the last time I visit a new country before I COS.  But most of all, seeing Lithuania gave me a real connection to a part of my past.  I have more than an intention to return to the country again, and I look forward to that opportunity.