Priecigas Lieldienas

Leildienas is the Easter Celebration in Latvia which is all of Holy Week ending with Easter Monday which is a national holiday. On Palm Sunday the tradition is to wake up children in the house by tickling them with pussy willows. In church pussy willows not palms are presented. One friend says this is an Orthodox tradition. Pussy willows are found in all the flower markets. On Easter we went to St. Saviors the Anglican Church which has services in English. We have been attending quite regularly. There is wonderful music with a gospel choir of young Latvians singing once each month and an accomplished organist who often brings in other musicians to play...flutiest, violinists, and a saxophone player. On Easter, after church in Livu Laukum, one of the city squares, we saw these folk dancers, egg rollers and swing riders enjoying Easter festivities. The tradition with the egg rolling is to see which egg goes the farthest. There were children coloring eggs. The eggs were tied to a string and the children were holding them dangling from their in a pot of steaming onion skins. Blueberries and beets are also used for natural dye coloring. For food there were stands with sausages and hot drinks. Daffodils and other spring flowers are showing up at the flower market where there are always roses. The days are now longer with the sun rising about 6:17 and setting about 18:45 (6:45) with daylight savings time going into effect on the 30 of Marts.

Liepaja

“Spring?!”
Liepaja is the 3rd largest city in Latvia with a current population close to 90,000. Last week the city celebrated its 383rd Birthday. It’s an ice free, manmade port on the Baltic in western Latvia, fortified by Tsarist Russia in the late 1890s that became the largest Baltic naval base of the Soviet Union during the cold war. The base housed a nuclear submarine base and significant numbers of Russian army and naval forces—a garrison of 20,000 military personnel at its height. With the end of the cold war and breakup of the Soviet Union, the base was abandoned. The last Soviet troops departed in 1994. The vast area became a wasteland of abandoned buildings and the site of street crime, drugs, and vagrancy. It was settled by the homeless, unemployed, and poor single-parent families among others, many sent by the city who owns much of the property. Liepaja itself is today a bustling, old city with a renovated downtown, significant business and commercial enterprise, an artist colony, and tourist industry. The Naval Port Area, Karosta, remains an impoverished ghetto on the northern edge of the city.
We arrived late morning by car, drove around the city, stopped for lunch then drove out to Karosta—block after block of early 1900s, two-three storey brick barracks-type buildings and dozens of 5-6 storey, Soviet style, concrete slab apartments and barracks. Many were inhabited but were mixed with uninhabited, derelict buildings with caved-in roofs, deteriorating structures, and first floor windows and doors bricked up or boarded up to discourage squatters and vandals.
We didn’t actually see any of the residences but the stories are distressing. Three generations living in 2 rooms; a single mattress (if that) on the floor for 2, or 3, or 4 kids; children under the guardianship of a grandparent because parents rights have been terminated who return to live with the parent only doors away from the guardian. The divorce rate is very high. Intermittent employment or unemployment and substance use/abuse are epidemic. A family receiving a new blanket or mattress is as likely to sell it for the money they can get as they are to use it for their children.
The light in this darkness is an afternoon/after-school 2-7 p.m. day care center for 25-30 children from the port area that operates in an upstairs one-room space about the size of a 60-70 person classroom at UNH. There are 4 small tables at one end for the lunch that is served daily, an open area for recreation and indoor games in the middle and a stage/chancel area with piano at the other end. The space is shared, without cost to the day center, with the small Baptist congregation of 20 whose pastor grew up in Karosta. Both Day Center and Church share a small office (filled with boxes of donations), kitchen and single-occupancy WC, all on the 2nd floor of the building. The Day Center itself is run by Buckners International in Latvia (same as “Shoes for Orphan Souls” program). Zande, the on-site coordinator is an energetic, highly skilled and very capable young woman with missionary spirit and zeal who is doing the best kind of social work imaginable even without the formal training.
Donations?? That’s a story in itself. There is No Need! for any more donations of stuffed animals. They line shelves and overflow bins and boxes in all of the child facilities I have visited. There is a container of donated goods from the U.S. that’s been sitting in storage at the port of entry in Riga, held up at a cost of 1,000 LVLs per month (that’s $2,000 per month). The Customs Office says the organization must have a non-profit permit to take delivery of the container and the finance ministry says no such documentation is required. There’s more. Customs regulations require that donated goods be “used”. Most of the donation containers from the U.S. include boxes of diapers. Think of the absurdity of used Pampers or Huggies. (Social work types might imagine a Saul Alinsky type operation to encourage change using cartons of used diapers, preferably several days old, to deliver personally to the customs officials.)
There are other interesting details to the story. Some of you may recall that Cheryl and I were resident managers of a Psychiatric Halfway House in Boston for the first 3 years of our marriage. In a major "catch 22" Cheryl cooked daily for 23 people with no stove or oven using 4 electric frying pans and hot plates. The City of Boston “rooming house permit” did not allow stoves or ovens and any attempt to convert the Back Bay “Rooming” house to apartments or condos for mentally ill would have kicked off a firestorm of protests and legal wrangling that might well have killed the project. The Day Center in Liepaja faces some similar challenges. Inspectors for the city have thus far denied a formal occupancy permit until the kitchen space is up to code with sink, dish washer, an oven/stove and refrigerator. They are there, donated by a local dealer, waiting to be installed. Further, some city officials say there’s no need for the facility in the first place—“the government” should be providing these services.
The children? Absolutely delightful! There were 23 yesterday—2 five year olds, 2 13-14, and others ranging in between. They’ve had other visitors so they greeted us with handshakes and high fives, asked our names in English and sang a medley of Easter and other religious songs for the guests. Several older children were practicing dance moves to a tape-recorded, hip-hop tune when we walked in—they were good! Three youngsters in small chef’s hats and white aprons served as waitress/waiters for the children’s afternoon meal.
It’s an impressive beginning; a small bright spot of spring, worthy of nurture, in an otherwise bleak, still wintery landscape.
Note: The pictures come from Wikipedia since Cheryl has the camera at home these 2 weeks. They don’t really give much sense of either the children or overall conditions but do show Liepaja. The Orthodox Cathedral is located on the grounds of the former military base.
March 20, 2008
rej

March Reflections on Latvian Experiences

“The Best Part of Being in Latvia?”
“Hope you are having a good time.” “Are you still enjoying yourself?” These and similar questions have triggered some recent reflective thinking about the experience here this year. The honest answer to the questions above is the same as it would be if someone asked me at home, “yes, sometimes.” Then of course, I’d suggest a different kind of question—questions that try to capture a different gestalt. “What’s it like for you?” “What are you doing/learning/being challenged by?” “What’s the best part of being in Latvia?”
Without a doubt, it’s the people we’ve met that make the experiences memorable.
It’s the students in courses at Attistiba—in Riga, Smiltene, Rezekne, and Daugavpils; mostly middle-aged in their 30s & 40s, but some on either end of the age spectrum. They are Latvian, but many are of Russian, Lithuanian, Estonian or Polish heritage. They come in all shapes and sizes—some quite privileged, others clearly working-class. Almost all are women. Some are quite reserved—“Latvian-like” and others are more open. All understand and speak at least two languages, usually Russian and Latvian. Many understand some English, but are reluctant to use it except on their way out the door at the end of the class. Then, they try out their English. There was one group of younger students who somehow managed to get themselves and the class filmed for a brief spot on a regular local t.v. show, Kopa (Together). There are the older students, some who admit to being in my “age range”, with grandchildren, but not yet anyone who has claimed to be older.
There are the faculty and staff of Attistiba, some of whom have only recently become more open and willing to engage. We communicate in English, German, Latvian, and often with hand gestures and other non-verbal body signals and only rarely need to find a translator to clarify. The staff, in particular, seem to have learned that I appreciate their helpful hints in Latvian and their use of English, no matter how well-spoken. Almost always I get the meaning or intent and unless asked specifically, don’t correct them—there’s no need! It’s the faculty and staff translators that have to put up with me the most. I don’t come close to understanding all of their words, but know very well there are times when they’re “covering for me” making sense sometimes when I don’t.
There are any number of Latvians and ex-pat Australians, Canadians, British, and Americans we’ve met—most with parents driven out of Latvia either just before or at the end of WWII. There’s one 82 year old at church who himself was driven out of Latvia, first east, then west to displaced persons camps in Germany, then to the U.S. and following his retirement as a classics professor at Merrimack College in Andover, MA (15 miles from our Topsfield home!) he returned to Latvia. Among the pictures he carries with him is one of Eleanor Roosevelt visiting the D.P. Camp in Germany. As an educated English & German speaker, he provided translation for her visit.
There are the directors, social workers and staff of social service agencies who seem used to visitors—both local and from abroad. Salaries are low, facilities often limited, budgets almost always inadequate to meet the mandates set for them, but they do obviously care about the developmentally disabled, homeless elderly, or children in their care.
Finally, there is a most impressive small group of students and faculty Fulbrighters we’ve come to know quite well. Through them we’ve also met their special friends as well as parents, spouses, children and host families. Intelligent, well-traveled, personable, open to studying, learning and teaching in a new environment in what is for most of us a new part of the world.
So, when I’m asked about the best part of being in Latvia, I would answer, it’s the people and their stories; it’s the people and our shared experiences; it’s the people and their willingness to engage that’s made this year the kind of rewarding, stimulating, sometimes challenging experience that it’s been.
March 7, rej

Workshops and Visit to Children's Home in Jelgava

“Shoes for Orphan Souls”
When he was still living, Dad would have referred to the following story as “divine coincidence,” or perhaps more accurately a series of them. He and June knew before he died last May that Cheryl and I were coming to Latvia, but it was sometime during the summer when we received a letter from June, now 92 and living in a retirement home, with a small newspaper clipping about her hometown, rural Saegertown, PA church collecting shoes for orphan children in Riga, Latvia. We were busy with last minute packing and planning and I filed the information thinking there might be a chance to follow up once we got to the country. How many orphanages could there be in the capitol city of a country with a population of just over 2 million?
It took a few weeks to get acquainted with Riga and get settled in my teaching position. Eventually I made a few unsuccessful inquiries here and then asked June, during a SKYPE phone call, for more information. Where, exactly, were the shoes to go? What orphanages? Were people from her church delivering the shoes? June got back in contact with her church friend. It turned out the project was called “Shoes for Orphan Souls.” A Christian radio station in Northeastern Ohio, WCRF, sponsored the drive. By now it was early November. I emailed the station and received a reply from the station manager indicating their local DJ, Paul Carter, was already in Latvia with a group delivering shoes—no idea about schedule or location, but Paul would probably respond to email. I emailed Paul Carter on a Tuesday in early November. He responded on Wednesday—“I’m here with a group of 30 people, staying at the Radisson in Riga with two full days of visits and meeting before a very early Saturday a.m. departure for home.” In the meantime I had searched the internet for “Shoes for Orphan Souls” and found Buckner International, a Dallas-based, Baptist-affiliated international social service agency with programs in many parts of the world, including Latvia. I was busy with a presentation Wednesday and Thursday but went to the Radisson early Friday a.m., before the final day of visits and meetings for the visiting group. I met for about 15 minutes with Paul Carter and left a little disappointed. The meeting was cordial enough, but…..nothing more—no introduction to other members of the group or staff, no invitation to join them. We did exchange business cards and went our separate ways. The group consisted of 30 volunteers from all over the U.S., although apparently none from the Saegertown church. They paid their own way to spend two weeks doing Vacation Bible School-like programs at several orphanages in and around Riga—doing arts and crafts, sharing stories, playing games, and delivering shoes. End of story? Not quite!
Several weeks later, toward the end of November, I received an email out of the blue from a woman who is the director of the Buckner-affiliated foster care program in Riga inviting me to visit their office. Paul Carter had handed her my business card just before he boarded the plane for home. She’s enthusiastic and committed, actively involved with local and international efforts for positive change in child welfare. She, Dace Rence, came to talk to one of my social work practice classes about her programs and her efforts, along with others, to move Latvia from a model of moderately large children’s homes to smaller group homes and foster care. I asked about visiting a children’s home and offered to provide a workshop if there was interest.
This week, on Wednesday and Friday, Cheryl and I traveled with an interpreter to two sites out of Riga where I presented half-day workshops on “Preventing Child Sexual Abuse.” More than 60 foster parents, social workers, teachers, and red cross volunteers attended the first in a very rural community of 700 inhabitants. Forty-five foster parents, social workers, law enforcement/police and NGO staff came to the second. The pictures help tell this part of the story. Dad, I’m sure, is smiling knowingly.
Mar 2, 2008