tales of wander

Before I arrived, I had a few questions from friends about whether I was worried about traveling to this area given Russia’s war with Ukraine. It’s true that I’m next door to Russia right now, but I knew it wouldn’t be an issue in the sense that they meant. The Baltics are different countries and what’s happening in Ukraine, while horrible and tragic, is not happening here. However, even though it’s not happening here, it’s understandably on peoples’ minds. On my first day in Tallinn, I was roaming around the Old Town and came across a student protest in front of the Russian Embassy building. People were standing, mostly silent, holding pictures and banners. A “fence” had been erected in front of the building with the faces of the victims of both Putin and this war. 

Aside from knowing that the Baltic states were once occupied by Russia (they didn’t re-declare their independence until 1991), I didn’t know much about these countries before coming here. However, I’ve learned a lot since I arrived—learned about the brutality and inhumanity of that occupation—and I started to wonder: do the people live in constant fear of it happening again, particularly when they see what’s happening in a neighboring country? I finally had an opportunity to ask a local while in Riga. I signed up for a walking tour and showed up early and was happy to see the guide did too—my first real opportunity to speak to a local, Markus. (This might sound odd, given that I’ve been here for several weeks and you’d assume I’d have lots of opportunities to speak to locals, but as Markus said: “Latvia is a nation of introverts.” I would extend that statement to include Estonia and Lithuania, as well—and let’s just say it’s hard for an introvert to strike up a conversation with another introvert.)

But I digress. I asked Markus what’s been on my mind and his reply was “we expect Russia to try again.” He explained that Latvia has always been in Russia’s “sphere of interest” due to its geographic location and importance as a trade center, so attempts to take control of the country happen every so many decades. He laughed and said “another is probably due anytime now.” My face must have looked surprised at his nonchalance because he quickly became more serious. “Yes, we worry, but we don’t live in fear.”

While I haven’t encountered active protests since my first day, it’s clear how people feel about it. The Ukraine flag flies alongside each country’s flags, it’s in the graffiti, it’s on every bus in Vilnius. In both Vilnius and Riga, even the names of the streets on which the Russian Embassies reside have been changed to honor Ukraine. In Vilnius, the street has been renamed “Heroes of Ukraine Street.” In Riga, it’s been changed to “Ukrainian Independence Street”—and as a bonus, there’s also this huge piece of artwork installed on the building opposite so that every day, every Russian Embassy worker can see what Latvia thinks of their leader:

I just love how powerful art can be—how quiet and loud at the same time.

Now, having touched upon that topic, I’m going to unceremoniously pivot to say at least a few words about Riga, whose artwork and spirit inspired me to write a bit about Ukraine in the first place. 

Riga is a large port city with a great Old Town, exquisite parks, and the highest concentration of Art Nouveau buildings in Europe, with over 800 buildings spread throughout the city. (This high number is because the popularity of the style coincided with an economic boom in Riga in the early 20th century.) While in Riga, I enjoyed a ton of sightseeing, learning about Latvia’s history, visiting the markets, roaming the Old Town, visiting the museums, and even trying out a Latvian sauna, which is called a pirt and is supposedly similar to a Finnish sauna (I’ll see for myself soon). While some bathhouses have a “pirtniek” (or “sauna master”) that conducts your sauna experience, this particular pirt didn’t have one, so people had their own “switches,” which are bundles of dried birch, eucalyptus, or oak branches (with their leaves still on them) that have been soaked in water to soften them. In the sauna, they occasionally whack themselves with the bundle, which has several effects: it’s a light massage, it’s aromatherapy, and it also softens the skin. Then they shower, take a cold plunge or pour a bucket of cold water over themselves… and do it all over again. The sauna is heated to a temperature that’s much hotter than I am used to (the typical temperature is 185 degrees!), so I found I had to take several cold plunges between sauna sessions to regulate my body temperature. The effect of heating the body to such a temperature, then plunging in the cold water is incredibly invigorating and by the time I left, I felt extremely relaxed.

Now, I’m off to Tallinn again, where I only spent a day when I arrived. I am looking forward to it…