Easter, Spring, and the Sound of Music

Easter has come and gone once again, anticipated for the forty days of Lent by those for whom the church calendar still structures the rhythms of their year along with more secular reckonings of time. For Russian Orthodox Estonians, the arrival of Easter is marked by baking (or at least eating) the special kulich (or kulits) bread, full of egg yolks, butter, and dried fruits--richer foods than believers would once have allowed themselves in the Lenten season; unbought loafs waited hopefully at the market this afternoon for buyers. Ethnic Estonians have cracked their Easter eggs, some as cultural tradition (still, as they say themselves, with traces of old pagan ways). And, of course, for those who are more observant, Good Friday (here a national holiday, though not necessarily a religious one for most) and Easter have meant special church services, perhaps family gatherings, and music. And, for everyone, the last snows have long since fallen, and what remains in shadowed lanes is melting quickly.

Days are quickly getting longer as well. Lately I've been stirring in bed between five and six, as the light outside seems to be saying "seven!" And it's still twilight around 9:30, such as in the photo at right of the monument to independence and freedom to the right. The light seems especially clear, and the air cools nicely, and I've found myself a few times "needing" to go out for an evening walk to the Old Town even though it's long past supper. A month ago the cold and dark and ice would have kept me in our cozy apartment with Barbara, often working away on her laptop curled up on the small couch facing our television with either the BBC news in the background or some obscure situation comedy or movie that never really found popularity in the U.S. (our English language fare is a little sparse--though our need for something familiar sometimes leads us to ancient "Little House on the Prairie" or "Northern Exposure" episodes with Estonian subtitles--sometimes fun to parse out (the connections between the English and the Estonian).

Spring here has been a time of continuing music. Barbara's sometimes working hard on classes when I slip out the door and down our many flights of stairs to the street to go to something large and fancy at the twin Opera House and Estonian National Concert Hall (Barbara may have to prepare for the next day, but once my duties as house-spouse are complete, who knows where my feet may take me?). (A photo of these very nice sites is at the left). The trams I find myself drawn to ride ("Barbara, they're just like little trains!") often carry advertisements for cultural opportunities like the opera, as in the photo below.

I've spent some time in the Russian Orthodox Cathedral here during Lent, sometimes at the short evening service evidently held only in the days leading up to Easter, and in which people's bodily involvement in worship reminded me of our time in mosques, including bowing and for many kneeling and sometimes almost prostrating, which I haven't seen in "regular" services. I understand that Lent can be a time of intense spiritual preparation, repentance, and prayer for some, and I think some attenders express this not only with their lips but their whole bodies as well. We also attended the Palm

Sunday service at the Cathedral, two hours long, and, as usual, many individual worshippers lit candles to place before an icon of particular significance, touching and kissing it, as well as participating in the service going on at the same time. Veneration of an icon may be a way to express special devotion or to petition the Virgin or a saint for help, or perhaps serves as a focus for one's worship; I'm not sure--but I've found myself interested in a religious practice so different from my own.

The icon to the left is centuries old, of the Last Supper, especially appropriate to Holy Week. This is not my own photo (it's off the Web); I've restrained my photo-impulses, especially either when people are worshipping or there's a sign in a church requesting visitors to not take photos (I do take photos when there's no sign or when a service is not being held--many of the churches here are lovely and historic, and so temptation occurs). Sometimes I find myself in a kind of "grey" area because, in one sense, these are part of my own tradition (in a way that's not true when we've been visiting mosques or Buddhist temples, for example). In some cases I've been at a church not as an observer (as I've largely been at the Orthodox cathedral, partly because of language and partly because it does seem like a significantly different tradition which I do not yet understand) but as a participant, a worshipper, though I'm not sure what that role means or would forgive in terms of photography--I still want to be respectful.

Part of the tradition for this Easter time, it seems, is for Russian folks here to visit the family gravesites and clean them up. Barbara and I walked around a largely-Russian cemetery recently, and liked seeing quite a few family groups (some including small children) picking up the winter's brush and twigs, raking the ground or sand around the gravesites and tombstones, planting flowers, fixing the small wooden benches on which visitors may sit while visiting their departed relatives, and so forth. Perhaps, like other Easter traditions, this has simply been a long-time rural custom at the end of a long winter, an affirmation of respect and love for family long past but not to be forgotten--but now, perhaps, also connected with themes of death and resurrection central to the religious season as well.

On Good Friday there was an excellent concert at the national concert hall, with a full orchestra and a large choir with soloists. I zipped up to the ticket window at the last minute and got a "pensioner's" (somewhat discounted) ticket for a single seat near the front. On such occasions, I like both the music (usually) and the people-watching: some older couples, some folks who seem to be on fancy dates, some families, occasional visitors (though I rarely hear anything but Estonian and Russian in such settings--I don't think short-term tourists are likely to discover such opportunities). At this concert there was a full half hour for the "interval" or intermission, a good opportunity for the larger strings to rest a bit (see photo to the left) as well as for attenders to get a coffee or a glass of wine and a cake (what in English we would call "a piece of cake").

I've discovered that there are a number of other spring music events in Tallinn, many unrelated to Easter. The Theater and Music Academy turns out to just be three blocks from our apartment, and happily for me there are often visiting musicians, professors, or advanced graduate students giving a recital for free. I enjoyed the annual spring recital by the voice professors (including bass notes sung by a senior prof so low I could hardly hear them), but also a bit of the spring orchestral concert by the students themselves, seen in the photo to the right doing some last-minute rehearsing at the Methodist Church where they performed. (Interestingly, this church is the only church I've seen in Tallinn less than a century old--most churches are historic structures, many closed during the Soviet period, with few if any built since then.)

And spring unfolds. More and more tourists seem to be arriving, though most are to be seen in the Old Town (which locals who don't work there may increasingly avoid!). And Barbara and I continue to explore Tallinn and see what we can discover, what music and culture we can share, and (of course) what we can eat. The photo to the left is a recent addition to our "short list" of cafe favorites, located in an old piano factory (with 30 foot ceilings and high windows), lots of tasty informal plates with help-yourself piles of homemade bread to go with your meal, and (of course!) free wi-fi.

Have I mentioned that, in spite of the apparent seriousness of many Estonians, there also seems to be a playfulness here, a whimsey, that I enjoy?Sometimes this appears in the many pastel and solid colors people paint their houses; sometimes it comes in the pretty darn cute outfits small children wear (while adults so often wear black, at least in winter). Sometimes it's something like the Nukupood (doll store) in the photo to the right; there are a number of places that feature home-made toys and dolls or animals made of wood, wool, cloth, and creativity. I'm still trying to figure this place out, still sometimes puzzled, often mistaken by local people for an Estonian yet having little idea how to actually be one (or speak like one). But we have another six weeks to go. Perhaps a miracle will yet happen.

Bruce

Thoughts about spirituality, religion and social contracts

It is Easter Sunday in Tallinn. We have just returned from, first, a brief visit to the Russian Orthodox Church on Toompea, where congregants stood, holding kulich (Russian Easter cakes) and eggs to be blessed, waiting to be doused with holy water from a large brush that looked like a horsetail on a stick; and then Easter services at St. Olaf Lutheran Church in Vanalinn, where the congregants sat properly spaced apart from each other and listened to the Easter sermon and singing several unfamiliar hymns. (Music for this service also included the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy as a prelude, and ended with Handel's Halleluiah choir, instantly reminding me of multiple versions of this song that have been appearing on you-tube where the singers hold up the syllables of the song as they sing.)  


Good Friday is a national holiday here and today is Easter, but the town seems deserted. We are told that many people may have used the long weekend to go to other parts of Europe, or to visit parents in the countryside.   (It is also getting toward the last few days of Passover- so perhaps even Estonian Jews- all three of them- are off preparing the traditional final night of Pesach meal of shrimp, sausage, cheese matzah brie casserole :) ) I find the silence somewhat strange and I miss the feeling of a collective focus on an important religious holiday or religious practice.  It is very different from the all encompassing, daily spirituality that I have become used to from my time in the Middle East and even in the U.S.


Before I launch into more thoughts, I should 'out' myself as a deeply spiritual person (which for me is something that is related to, but also different from, being religious.) This is probably not much of  a surprise for any of you who know me well (or maybe even if you do not know me very well).  To explain,  my spirituality is less about 'faith' and more about the desire to live life in a way that embodies how I believe people should treat each other all the time (think: Buber and I-Thou).   For me the Muslim practice of pausing several times a day to prostrate and remember their relationship to Allah, or the Jewish weekly practice of pausing on Shabbat to be reminded of the sacred, or even other cultures that practice mindful awareness on a daily level are an important part of the cultural spiritual fabric.  When I have spent time in these cultures I feel grounded and connected. 


This is not to say that Estonians are NOT spiritual. They are, but the form I see their spirituality taking often seems more personal than collective.  Estonians are deeply connected to wildness of nature and pagan-earth centered spirituality. But this spirituality seem to reflect an individual relationship rather than a collective one. The collective traditions seem lost or diminished.  I ask my students what they and their families do for Easter and they describe special food or egg-cracking traditions, but seem disconnected from any deeper personal meaning beyond 'it is something my grandparents do and so I do it with them.'  Many of the descriptions feel incomplete- the rules of the 'egg cracking game' are unknown and the deeper reasons for such tradition are unclear.  While religion does not seem to be an active form of Estonian spirituality for most, there are other Estonian practices that appear to me to be deeply spiritual. Singing for example.  Singing together is a deep part of the Estonian psyche, and whether it is older people or my own students, the process of singing with others seems to transport everyone.  


My questions about Estonian spirituality feels connected to other questions and conversations I have had that focus on how Estonian express their responsibilities to others and the nation's 'social contract'. On a daily level, I am often aware of the strong Estonian value of autonomy and independence. In the winter I noticed that people do not help people who have slipped and fallen on the icy winter streets, even if they are older or clearly infirm. In my own program, I need to be extremely proactive in asking about basic curricular details:  Am I teaching a specific class? Who are my students? Can I teach the class my way or are there specific requirements? What is the department attendance policy? How do final grades get posted? Once I ask, the information is readily offered, but I have to find out who the appropriate person is and then ask them directly.  Similarly, meetings are scheduled, but I find out the location only when I ask.  A student offers me tea between two long classes that I am teaching, but does not let me know when the water is hot or offer to make it for me.  In general, while I am clearly a visitor,  people rarely take the initiative to offer helpful information. My experience is of an absence or unwillingness to act out of, what to me seems like empathy.


How to explain these different impressions? Are the patterns I see a result of Soviet times, when everyone was suspect, especially strangers? Or is this a reflection of Estonian self-sufficiency? (Estonians frequently point out the 'Estonian need for space' as reflected by the large distances between farm houses in traditional rural society.)  Young people in their 30's and 40's are parents but so many seem to be separated and also living on their own rather than in an extended family. In all of these ways, there seems to be an underlying value for independence.   On the other hand, Estonia has a progressive health care system, particularly when compared to what we have in America.  Historically, prior to their independence, Estonians created their own national identity cards which pre-citizens could request as a way of asserting national identity.   The political structure seems to reflect a level of social responsibility that is not visible to me on a personal level. 


And what does this have to do with spirituality and how spirituality is often a guide for how we should treat each other on a daily basis?  Most religions and spiritual practices have strong directions about how we should treat others, whether they are 'us' or 'them'. And yet, in Estonia I observe the role of religion as being fairly minimal for most people, especially if they are young.  If religion is not guiding how people should be with other people, then what are the factors that influence social behavior?  How much of what I am seeing is a reflection of social character, and what is a result of trauma from the Soviet experience? I do not have answers to these questions, but since Passover is the time to ask questions, I am comfortable with asking them, rather than needing answers. To be continued.......

Women and Men, Old and New?

What's it like to be a woman, or a man, in Estonia today--especially given all the changes in thetwenty years since independence from the Soviet Union? Is Estonia approaching "gender equality," and what would that mean? In what ways are people here "doing gender" in the old ways, and in what ways exploring new possibilities?

By some measures, women seem to be doing well. Soviet policy (1945-1991) encouraged women to enter paid work, and in fact the loss of so many men during World War II almost required it. "Socialist Realism" paintings of that time (see the photo on the left, of a painting in the national art museum here in Tallinn) sometimes portray and celebrate women providing necessary labor on the farms and in factories. Women were a majority of medical doctors long before American medical schools began admitting women in any real numbers, though they were paid relatively low wages (in the Ukraine, doctors still earn only a couple of hundred dollars a month).

In Estonia today women are still used to working outside the home and earning money. They are also the majority of university students, though women and men tend to choose different fields.

And women outlive men by ten years (in the U.S. it's five), the greatest gender gap in longevity in

the European Union (of which Estonia has become a member)--though this is partly a reflection of men doing worse than average rather than women doing better in this regard.

The photo on the right, for a play in Lithuania when we recently visited there (the words translate as "men and women" might also reflect the ways in which men and women here in Estonia are thinking about the ways in which their gender roles are sometimes challenging, often changing, and subject to discussion.

In some ways old gender patterns prevail. All men in Estonia are conscripted for a year of military training and service (the photo at left is from an exhibit of prize-winners from last year's Estonian newspapers, of summer military exercises, deriving its humor from several soldiers coming upon a farm woman reading her newspaper). And men still dominate politics,

with women having only about the same representation in the national legislature as in the U.S. (and, similarly, somewhat fewer seats as a result of the conservative victories in the last elections in each country). At the other end of the spectrum, women continue to do more work

which is related to or an extension of their traditional family roles: teachers of younger

children (see the photo below of schoolkids and their teachers on a field trip), for example.

The different work that women and men do

means that women earn less (occupational differences account for more than simple pay discrimination for the same jobs). The "gender gap" in pay for full-time workers is about 30% here, the greatest in the EU, a concern to many particularly in the current economic crisis. The gap is especially hard on single moms; the divorce rate in Estonia is now quite high. And, with the differences in lifespans, many older woman may be on their own without the financial (as well as emotional) companionship of a husband.

Does all this mean that it's "better" to be a man than a woman after all, in spite of women's high participation in higher education and the workforce? Yes, in some important ways. But I'm also struck by the higher-than-usual lifespan gap for men. And there are other signs of problems: Estonian men commit suicide at much higher rates than women, and even much

higher than men in most other EU countries. Rates of alcohol abuse and binge drinking are quite high, along with (related) risky behavior. Estonian men develop a chronic illness or disability (enough to interfere with their life) at the average age of only 59, relatively early.

But there may be some drawbacks to being a woman in Estonia as well--in addition to earning

less pay. I haven't read about this in official reports and statistics, but it seems likely that the emphasis on beauty is strong. Is it hard for a woman to get noticed if she's not slim, pretty, blond, and well-dressed (or perhaps undressed)?

(I see the same dilemmas among women students at home: bright, well-educated, career-

oriented young women who also feel a need to be attractive and sexy as that is defined today.)

Note the recent advertising campaign in the photo on the left (advertising what? drivers

passing by have time only to notice the photos!).

What does this suggest to young women about how they should look? To older women about how they no longer look? To men about the sort of woman they should find attractive?

(Symbolism: in the background is an old grey Soviet-era building, c. 1954; on the right, a shiney new Finnish department store--connected to each other by the images of the same young woman in various poses and stages of dress. Hmmmm.)

There are, of course, images of attractive men in some advertising--though usually the men are wearing sharp business suits and ties, indicating economic success and status, with little skin showing unless the ad's for underwear. Another

new ad campaign widely on view around town is in the photo to the right--a young blond with an innocent-yet-provocative look, showing the bit of bosom that is now so popular (one notes that the passersby are more bundled up).

In case we haven't gotten the message about what a woman should look like, the advertisement in the photo below left, which recently went up near the little cafe I often go to, has an image four stories high, a bit hard to miss.

And I can't help include the photo below and to the right, in which a large poster (at one of the main intersections in Tallinn) for the "Sound of Music" is set (accidentally?) against an advertisement for a strip-club just down the street. I'm curious to know what local people might make of these various images, though I know when we were in Lithuania in 1997 women in my Women's Studies classes were concerned that their younger sisters were being negatively affected by the Western-style advertising that was coming in, increased attention to "working on their bodies" to get the "right" size and shape, and the risks of sex trafficking (young blond woman from poor eastern European countries were at a premium).

I can't conclude this entry without noting that I've met some of the women (and a few men) who are concerned about and working on gender issues such as those I've touched on here. I gave a talk at a workshop for people from a variety of government "ministries" (departments) this week on "The Benefits of Gender Equality" (see photo below of the gathering), emphasizing the ways in which not only women but men, employers, families, and Estonia as a whole have a stake in working through what gender means in people's lives today. I've been impressed with those doing this work, and by ways in which Estonia has some policies which we in the U.S. could consider: Estonia provides economic support for couples who have small children (receiving a large portion of their usual income in order to stay home with them), available to men as well as women. (In the U.S. the federal law passed during the Clinton years only guarantees three months unpaid leave.)

One of the things that pulls Estonia towards greater equality is its occasional identification as a Scandinavian (or at least Scandinavian-like) country, a part of the world with the most progressive government policies about gender equality (see the photo below, of the Estonian flag, on the left, among the flags of Scandinavian countries, on a downtown hotel). A second is Estonia's membership in the European Union, which involves a commitment to some of the human rights and equality concerns the EU has adopted. But, in the end, the most important factor may be that men as well as women (in different ways) would benefit from re-thinking gender, keeping values and traditions that still work, but finding a way to develop new ones for the new society Estonians are seeking to create.

Bruce

p.s. Sorry about some of the word spacing in this entry; I accidentally deleted one of the photos, and when I added it back in it seemed to get the layout out of kilter in a way I'm not able to fix.

p.p.s. This entry's about gender, but in a later one I'll talk about gay and lesbian issues here in Estonia (which are rarely mentioned in discussions of gender equality). I'm doing a little with the folks working on the "Baltic Pride" celebration in early June, and should have a report in the future.

And so...perhap...this might really be spring..(or not)..or maybe soon (or not)

Spring is here !!!  We are having some friends for dinner tonight, and I walked to the store wearing only a t-shirt and jacket, I was HOT!!!  While there are still dirty pebble-topped mounds of crusty snow in darker corners of the buildings, the earth it becoming green. In some places gold, purple and white croci are blooming and everyone seems to be finding it increasingly difficult to be inside and work. (sigh).  Plus as spring arrives I am painfully aware that the time I have already been in Tallinn is now signficantly longer than the time that is left. I  notice that I am reluctant to plan my class, in part because there are only two class sessions left.  In my thoughts, I keep wishing I could start over.  (Not to worry, I always have 'teacher's remorse' after teaching many of my classes, and wish I could go back and spend more or less time on any particular topic.) 

Children's Singing group at Solaris

Tunnel figures...

In addition to spring flowers springing to life, I am noticing an explosion of art in many forms, in every possible corner of the city, where ever I walk.  The tall piles of snow have melted to reveal stone and metal sculptures of famous people, abstract forms or bodies in tight embraces (How is that for a perfect spring image?)  Festivals of all sorts abound- Jazzcars, Bobby McFerrin, poetry readings, theater, performance art and Japanese Anime not to mention the classics of ballet and opera.  This weekend for example, there is a childrens' choir festival in town. This morning, our closest and most reliable market (in the basement of a nearby shopping-center/movie theater/mall/ performance hall), was crowded with teens in costumes preparing to perform on a small stage in the central atrium.  Among the older parents-with-cameras, there were teens toting large Asian fans and kimonos and others dressed as animals, witches or queens. All of them members of a singing group and preparing to perform for anyone who wanted to stop and watch. Yesterday, we saw the same scene but with children so small then needed to be lifted up to the performance stage.  The day before, as I was walking to school I noticed a colorful washline of clothing hanging across the old town street, two stories up. Later, on my return that evening, the clothing was inside a local gallery that was packed with people attending a wine opening for the new exhibit.  At the national library, we wander into the wrong auditorium room (we were actually looking for a theater performance down the hall) and caught the end of a reading by an Estonian novelist (it was free and the room was packed!!).  The tunnel under the street that I walk though at least twice a day to get from our apartment to the old town has sprouted strange and whimsical figures filling the passage way. These figure are dressed in untypical Estonian fashion and seem to be saying 'Dont' reject me because I am different".  In Tallinn, arts seem to be intrinsically part of life in the town.

Raekoja Plats...the tourists are coming..the tourists are coming

Of course with spring, it is now tourist season.  The restaurants surrounding Raekoja Plats (Townhall square) have sprouted large wooden porches, complete with tables, umbrellas, tables and medievally-dressed wait-staff.  The square is filled with large packed clumps of people slowly meandering, fish-like across the square. (Their eyes big and unblinking, their mouths slightly open) It is impossible to walk at a normal rate or without walking infront of someone peering upward, camera pointed and clicking.  Some mornings I hear German, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, French and Hebrew, on my way to school.  They are like locusts, but also good for the economy.

Bruce among the smoked fish

Selling fresh and smoked fish- so yummy

Fox and Barbara (my friend Epp in disguise)

Our wanderings have taken us further outside of old town. This weekend we explored an older neighborhood that is being lived in by many local artists. It is called Kalamaja (Fishhouse) because it used to be the old fish market area.  We walked past ornate wooden houses (see some of the photos in previous blogs) some of which have been  fixed up and painted beautiful pastel colors while others are collapsing with old dark smoke marks on their outer walls (from a fire, we assume).  We found an bakery which I think might be of of German ancestry based on the giant pretzels and 'kuchen' for sale inside and we buy peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. 


Our destination is the Saturday fish market on the water. On the way we pass people doing clean-up work in a boggy area and I am warmly hugged by a friendly 'ecology wolf' who is handing out literature to children about recyling. This is not just Estonian friendliness, but the wolf is actually my friend Epp, who I met at the airport while waiting for my ride, when I first arrived. At that time, she had offered us tickets to see a clown show and we met afterwards for a lovely coffee conversation about feminism, artists and the arts in Estonia.  So, there she was. It is magical and also starting how Tallinn is beginning to feel like a familiar small town!!!!  


To finish our exploration, we walked the other direction to an old soviet factory, now housing artists lofts and a yummy alterntive restaurant.  Of course we had to have lunch and it was delicious: Chicken on a bed of lentils and spinach and I had a salad of salmon and red lentils with plum juice. Plus all the bread you could eat (if you had any room for it.)  As we ate, I saw several dancers I knew from school and also watched parents with children enter to either share a piece of chocolate cake with them or walk their child to a kids play room, allowing the parents some quiet time for coffee and a conversation.  Walking home we explored the Baltiturg (the old Russian-populated market by the train station) passing older Russian women who had added bundles of pussy-willows and spring herbs to their usual sale items of home-made cucumber, beet and cabbage pickles, honey and medicinal herbs. 

Lunch at Telliskivi, in the art loft area

If perhaps our time here sounds a bit idyllic- it is.   I watch what is happening in the world and feel as if I am in a land protected by some sort of magical charm (I also realized this is a superficial perception, there are a number of things that could use change lurking below the quiet politeness of daily life.) I read the news from America and feel powerless to add my voice to the politial changes that seem to want to disempower the weakest and least protected in my own country and culture.  I also hear sad news from friends who are facing challenges in their personal life.  A friend emails me and they closes by wishing me: 'stay safe'.  Somehow this wish seems anachronistic for our lives here. (OK, maybe it would have been more relevant in the winter, when walking involved taking your life into your hands (or feet) due to hidden slabs of lethal ice and surprise attacks from killer melting icicle from above...but all of that has melted away.)  This idyllic impression won/t last either, I suspect.  Estonian society is just beginning to acknoweldge the voices of the more mariginalized members of its society (LGBT folks, Russians, women and Jews to name a few). And there is lots of trauma from soviet times, still lurking in the collective psyche. But, at this point these issues are not yet able to be addressed and some of the important conversations don't easily occur or are very brief and extremely polite.  I am curious how this nation will evolve as the next generations mature without a visceral experience of soviet oppression.  
With wishes for a gentle spring for all of you, and Hag Sameach, Happy Easter and enjoy the return of warmth in the world. 

To Haapsalu and Back as Spring Arrives

Tere (hi!). As you can see from the previous entry (but next on the page, the way this blog works), we've been getting out beyond Tallinn a bit. This is largely due to interest in what Barbara has to offer here, in addition to her regular classwork at Tallinn University: the workshops and teaching in Haapsalu (an historic [c. 1279 founding] town on the northwest coast several hours west of here by bus, working with schoolchildren in Tartu (Estonia's second city and heart of its historic university), presentations on dance/movement therapy in Riga (Latvia's capital), about four hours south by bus, a weekend workshop in Helsinki (three hours north by ferry), and participation in a conference in Copenhagen. And most of this happening in our last two months here (it takes a little while for local folks to know Fulbright scholars are here). It appears that life here will only get busier, but it's good to be used well.

In the photo above you see a neighborhood in Haapsalu. I spent part of the time while Barbara was doing her workshops just wandering the area and relaxing (as well as trying out a very friendly and tasty cafe built into the old city wall). The photo to the left is one of the old stone crosses (from local limestone) used as cemetery markers by the Swedes who once lived in large number in the area (most fled early in World War II to Sweden, though some had been farmers and fisherfolk on the shore and nearby islands for centuries) (there's a small Swedish Estonian museum in town).

I also took part in an afternoon workshop the three Fulbright folks presented (one's an expressive arts person, another an art therapist, and Barbara of course is a dance/movement therapist). While we're told that Estonians tend to be quiet, reserved, to avoid eye contact, and so forth--and though this is often the case out on the street--we've been pleasantly surprised to find people friendly, talkative, interesting, and even willing to do "risky" things like going beyond their usual experience in exploring the unknown parts of who they are in the kind of work that Barbara does. Of course, I think it's also (in the workshops) that Barbara's an energetic, engaging, skillful, funny, and sometimes charismatic leader who can bring things out of people who are willing to meet her half way (or even just a third). See the photo above for Barbara working with a group at the art center where the Pippi Longstocking illustrator's works are housed (this may have helped set the mood for playfulness!).

Spring continues to struggle to arrive, and it's actually been warm enough the past few days to walk around town with our jackets unzipped. And the evening light will soon be lasting as long as our energy (o.k., this may be a modest claim: we were returning the other night in a taxi from a wine and cheese get-together at the ambassador's house in Tallinn--Fulbright folks get invited to some of the embassy events--and the 20-somethings were talking about the possible cafes where they could go hear music while we were thinking about our warm bed in our cozy apartment: clearly "beginning of the weekend" versus "end of a long week" viewpoints). The photo above is Haapsalu across the lake in the center of town, the older towers and church spires reflected in the water on the melting ice.

As you can see in the photo at the right, young women in Tallinn can now wear their stiletto heels with more safety than when the snow and ice were so thick (they didn't give up wearing them, it was just more risky--why the pavement wasn't full of fallen women intent on making a fashion statement I could never figure out!). This is the front of our apartment building, with our door on the left, and the entrance to Kathmandu (a Nepal/India/China cafe) to the right, handy when we haven't wanted to venture far when the weather was colder.)

A week ago the Bay of Finland (on which Tallinn is located) was apparently still frozen solid, except for the channels for the ferries to Helsinki and Stockholm. But a walk over the weekend confirmed that the ice is breaking up, another sign that spring is near.

Spring also seems to be bringing me some new opportunities to meet folks here and to be of some use. I was gave a guest lecture to a graduate geography seminar last week about "Masculinity and the Use of Social Space," and also met with half a dozen folks who work with various gender equality organizations (both governmental and non-government organizations), which will likely lead to helping with some workshops. I'm also helping with some planning for "Baltic Pride," the annual gay and lesbian pride celebration which seems to rotate annually among the three Baltic capitals. More on gender issues here in Tallinn in a later posting!

Barbara is handling being 60 pretty well, and I'm trying to set a good example. At the moment the main advantage of being 65 I can give is that, as an official "pensioner" here in Estonia, I can ride all the public transportation systems in town for free (trams, trolleys and busses), which seems very civilized and which I'm enjoying. The flowers Barbara got for her birthday from her department looked quite pretty on the window sill, against a recent late snowstorm outside.

(I've since had to replace them, this time with bundles of spring pussy-willows which older ladies sell out on the town square for half a Euro.)

The last photo for this posting appears to be a stone statue of two lovers. But, who knows? In some ways this place can be a place of myths and legends, and it's possible this is an actual couple who didn't make it into someplace warm before an early snow last fall, and have been frozen in an embrace since then, waiting for the spring thaw. Travel to a new place often involves the realization that things aren't what they at first seem, that there may be deeper meanings at work than one first assumes. Part of what being in one's 60's may involve is the humility and patience to realize those revelations may take some time. Bruce

p.s. Barbara tells me that if you click on any photo in our posts that interest you, you'll see a larger version with more detail. It works!

Spring and our Road Trip to Haapsalu

Spring in Townhall Square...

The days are getting longer and sunnier in unbelievably huge increments (In actuality, we are probably gaining 5+ minutes a day, but it feels like half hour leaps of light every night). At 9 in the evening (21:00 here) you can read a book outside, as long as you wear a warm coat and hat. Hurrah for the sun!!! I understand why someone might want to shed their clothes and dance for hours into the night-come mid-summer/St. John's day. And, incredibly, it is only mid-April.   To be clear,  it is still cool and there are occasional brief snow flurries but they melt away quickly.  

Ice floes on the bay

Birds with the Vanalinn in the distance

This weekend we took a walk along the water beyond Kadriorg Park and the bay was covered with a lunar landscape of floating ice. We were surrounded by deep blue-purple or green bands of water edging ice blocks and the reflection from a brilliant blue sky.  In the melted areas of water, swans, sea- gulls and geese perched on dry rocks and chased after small children who seemed to enjoy chasing  and taunting the bigger birds. Couples in colorful jackets scattered millet seeds on the ground, ignoring the signs strictly forbidding any bird feeding. (This is a perfect example of Estonian anti-authoritarianism, which I both respect and relish.  Those of you who know me, will understand why!!!)  On the horizon the church steeples of the old town were overwhelmed by the looming car and tourist ferries that are  arriving more frequently as winter wanes.  Yes, the tourists are coming.  In hoards!!! (I try to blend in to the scenery or look Estonian, but that is almost impossible. I am too short and my legs are not thin enough. Plus I don't wear suicide heels on the cobblestones- which betrays my foreign heritage.)  Vanalinn is becoming a place of many languages and even more cameras.  The local shop keepers, who are skilled at guessing what country you are from, now approach and greet you in your native language- 'hello, are you from America? Do you want to come eat in our lovely medieval restaurant? (Insert any other country you want for America...China, Japan, France, Italy, Germany, Sweden..they are all here- it's like a big international party.) This reminds me of Egypt, but with a much less assertive body language, and the inviter is usually dressed in a large medieval-style cape to go along with the 'ancient but old town feeling'. 


However, we are becoming familiar with Tallinn and as we settle in to familiar routines and places, we continue to try to find new areas of town (and places to eat) to explore.  Last night we had dinner at an Azerbaijani restaurant near the Baaltijaan turg (train station market..the one with lots of Russian merchants, where you can buy anything at all---I kid you not).  Azeri food is basically fire roasted kebabs/shashlik with cabbage salad. But it is GOOD.  We had lamb and lamb dumplings with an optional sour cream sauce. It was yummy.  Inside the restaurant, the only language spoken and understood was Russian.  When we ordered, I thanked the owner in Russian- spaciba...and was rewarded with a large smile)  


Classes are winding down and getting more intense at the same time. When there are only 8 - 4 hour class sessions that meet every other week, time goes by quickly.  I continue to enjoy working with these students, although I am learning to change my assumptions and expectations a bit each class session. For example, students here seem to be used to showing up for class and then doing all the reading and assignments at the end of the term.  Each class session I experiment using carrots and sticks to get them to turn in assignments when they are due (weekly) but have had only minimal success.  To my surprise, students are very comfortable speaking up in class, despite multiple warnings that that class participation would be a challenge. Supposedly, this is partially because that is not the way education works here but also because students are shy about speaking English. However, while students are good at remembering alot of 'head'  information, they are less skilled at applying what they know to their own experiences.  There is often a tendency for them to think in black/white terms and accept what ever they learn as being 'THE TRUTH'.  The other challenge for me, and this was an easier adjustment, is that almost all forms of psychotherapy here are depth work. So, when we have experiential exercises in class, students go very deep and the class becomes a form of group therapy (I continue to be struck by the many ways that generational trauma is present in most of the people I meet).  As a result, my image for how students approach learning is that they either skim the surface of the 'pool of knowledge'  so only their toes touch.....or they dive to the bottom of the lake. And I never know which will happen or when. 

Communal office space- we all use it and everyone
 brings cookies and chocolage to share

I have also been teaching several community classes. I am discovering there is a huge desire for deep but less intense embodied experiences.  Most of my community workshops have focused on self care (Authentic Movement, for those who know what that is), expressing emotions or self acceptance, and  people seem to want more classes than I have time for.  I wonder if this interest/need is so strong because it helps people toconnect with a spiritual level of being. Bruce and I have had a number of conversations with local Estonians about the absence of any strongly visible, persistent religious practice. Almost everyone we talk to confirms that Estonians DO NOT go to church or have any sort of formal religious practice. (The exceptions are the Russians who seem to attend more frequently).  However, many Estonians have a deep,  visceral connection to nature and the wild (traditionally men's territory).  Many of the women and younger people I meet, seem to gravitate toward meditation, esoteric and pagan practices (At one studio where I teach, the women are aware of moon phases and talk about earth power and nature goddesses.) 


The relationship to formal religion also seems to be changing. We had a conversation with some Estonian women at a gathering hosted by the US ambassador - yup, all the Fulbrighter's were invited...and yup I am shamelessly name dropping. In our conversation, the women were explaining to us that since liberation, Estonian women had lived with their partners and had families without getting 'officially married'. However, more recently, they were wanting to be married 'properly' in a church. We also found out that the wedding building down the street from us, is the ONLY one in Tallinn!!!!

Town hall square of Haapsalu

Road trip: Last weekend we (all three Creative Arts Therapist Fulbrighter's in Tallinn) went to Haapsalu, a small town on the coast of Estonia, to participate in an International  Healthy Living Conference. We also taught a day of classes for the Health Promotion students at the local college.  The workshops and classes were intense but fun (three 1.5 hour classes in  a row).  Students were excited, involved and seemed to love doing anything creative with movement. The conference was a bit more challenging at first.  Other presentations for the conference included topics like- the sexy side of seat-belts', reports on road safety statistics and a session from the military on Estonian defenses.  And here we were a bunch of Creative Arts Therapists. It seemed as if we had entered a game of "what doesn't belong on this list?". But we got a huge group of participants and filled the room to overflowing. It was  fun to get a sense of  how each of us works. In addition, our presentation was in a children's museum dedicated to the person who illustrated Pippi Longstocking (Pippi Pikksukk) Ilon Wicklund, who is Swedish but grew up in Haapsalu !!!! The museum was filled with her whimsical illustrations as well as many other pictures done by more contemporary Estonian artists. 

Remaining tower of the Episcopal Castle 

We enjoyed exploring Haapsalu- the Venice of Estonia, which has a huge Episcopal 'Castle' ruin which dates from the late 1200's as well as a small Swedish Estonian museum. What was even better is that Haapsalu is on the water/bay and it is only a 5 minutes walk before you are surrounded by brightly painted wooden houses, tall sea grasses and flocks of bird - many new to us and probably migrating north.  The town also has a promenade and a lovely Russian Orthodox church on the edge of the water.

Russian Church on the edge of Haapsalu

 "Three Fubrights from the states are we..."
(sung to the Mikado - Three little girls...tune)

 Because it has a lake in the middle of the town and is surrounded by water on three sides, it is easy smell to sea air and watch the colors of the sky and water change. We walked and explored and slept whenever we could. We also got to watch different news channels (watching CNN in Haapsalu confirmed for me, that I am a BBC, Al Jazeera, EuroNews kind-a-gal).  Meals ranged from great to awful (great was a rich fish soup and bruschetta at a local kovik (my first crispy bread, basil and tomato in a long time), awful was our first night's dinner of spaghetti with sauce that tasted like catsup.)  The final evening, there was a dinner for presenters at one of the fancier hotels on the water. The wine kept coming (complete with Estonian toasts of terviseks and you have to meet eyes or repeat the toast again), we were surrounded by people from Finland, Norway, Great Britain, Estonia and more. The party was going strong when we left to catch the last bus to Tallinn.  


Well, there is much more that we are doing, but this blog is getting pretty long. The next month will be busy. In addition to the end of the term, I am teaching some workshop in Tartu, leading some classes and workshops in Riga (Latvia) for International Dance Day and also attending a workshop in Copenhagen.  I also hope to be doing some relationship workshops for community participants and a separate one for Imago practitioners.  Lots of work but also lots of fun to get to know more about Estonians than if I were only visiting museums and churches. I am also making some slight progress in my communication skills. The other day I realized I actually understood a poster for a singing and dancing festival. (OK it's a small step in language comprehension, but it's a step.)

Haapsalu, spring is arriving !!!!! 

Bruce will have more to share, since he is also doing some exciting things in the community. But enough, I will close with thoughts of sun...and new spring sprouts. (and some wee-fee- or it would not be Estonia)

Can you hear me now?? Wifi (wee-fee) is everywhere

Brief continuation of Vilnius and identity....

(This is a continuation of the last blog. For some reason, that particular blog decided to not let me post pictures and comments the way I wanted to post them. So to continue....)

 Saturday, we visited the Estonian Historical Museum, housed in a large old estate on the outskirts of the town (beyond Kadriorg).  There was a new'special' exhibit that focused on Estonian history and liberation called 'A will to be free'. 

For those of you who are not familiar with Estonian history, Estonians have been frequently over-run, conquered and made part of larger national empires- including Sweden, Germany and most recently the Soviet Union. However, Estonia, along with the two other Baltic nations were able to gain freedom peacefully, through song and dances that expressed their political desires, energy and identity.  At one point the people of the Baltic nations stood, holding hands in a human line that stretched from Tallinn to Vilnius (we have been to the location of both ends of this line). In the museum, there were photographs of those people standing hand in hand, connecting all three nations. Standing so their desire for identity and independence could be visible to the rest of the world. And this peaceful 'singing' revolution worked (they were also aided by the fact that the Soviet Union was collapsing internally). It was moving to see old film footage of song festivals and flag raisings and be told the story of their national liberation. 

But it also raised many questions for me. What can a nation do to keep the spirit and excitement of newly won freedom alive and vibrant?  I work with colleagues here who were part of this revolution. They are proud of their new reclaimed identity and the excitement and meaning for them is visceral. But what will happen in three generations? Will that gentle spirit be kept alive or will it harden or even become exclusive and turn against many of the minority groups that also live here. 

 As a Jew, I can relate to the longing for a 'homeland' and  place to feel autonomous and free.  I know this to be a natural reaction to oppression and domination (or worse).  Viewing the exhibit I remembered learning Israeli songs and dances as a child, which helped me feel connected and proud of my own heritage.  But, I no longer see this desire for freedom, identity and nationhood in such simple terms. When I turn on the news today, I see different types of struggles for freedom-  in Africa, the Middle East and other places. These struggles are bloody and  innocent people are killed. Is this just about identity or freedom...or is it about something more?  Perhaps control and power?  I also see what is happening in Israel, and mourn the ways that safety and nationhood have put blinders on my own people's 'identity', so that they feel the need to treat others despicably.  

I dont know the answers, but am struck by the many ways the need to be free and valued for who we are can, so easily, become harmful to others.  Perhaps, as spring returns, better options will start to emerge. I hope so. 

Bruce in front of our apartment door in Vilnius

Bruce in Riga...more on Riga at a later date.....

Vilnius, turning 60 and national identity- in two parts

Street in old town Vilnius (I used to walk home on this street)

Church in Old Town with grafitti

It is a grey Saturday afternoon, the icy snow is melting leaving huge table-tops of ice in the harbor and dirty, sometimes unexectedly deep, puddles of water everywhere. We walk without hats or gloves and our coats flap open in the breeze. Spring is coming and it has been a very full two weeks.  Bruce has already written about his impressions of our return to Vilnius, so I will add a few more detail and photos before launching into other topics.  

Selling dark Lithuanian Bread 

Honey/Medus for sale

Vilnius will always have a place in my heart and memory, just as a first love or crush is always a part of  you. Vilnius was the first time Bruce and I lived together in a location that was 'not American' for 5 months.  At times, walking familiar streets, recognizing words I had once learned and tasting familar flavors make it seem like I was in a waking dream.  I was surprised how easily I remembered Lithuanian (I had been needing an ego-boost, since Estonian is so incredibly hard to learn e.g.  impossible).  We wandered streets aimlessly, finding street markets with local people selling home-made bread and honey (Lithuanian bread is still my first choice for what I would want for food on a deserted island. It come in huge loaves from which sellers cut off large chunks to buyers. It is dense, chewy, sour and sweet and filling all by itself. OK, I might want a few bars of Lithuanian, or Latvian or Estonian chocolate..but definitely Lithuanian bread!!!)  

Indoor covered market (it had been open air 14 years ago

It was inspiring to see what stayed the same and also what has changed in the Vilnius of today. Sleek-glass and metal buildings loomed behind old wooden houses, the cars on the streets are more frequent, and did not spew the exhaust and blue smoke I remeber from 14 years ago. There is much more English spoken (rather than the Russian and Polish from our first time there.)   But not all the changes have been positive. We had several conversations with local young people and heard the down side of this progress- or rather the impact of the global economy. They talked about the challenge of finding work in Lithuania with a college degree, and that they needed to leave the country (usually to England) to make any money. For those with college educations, those foreign jobs meant working in coffeeshops in London or sewing factories in New Jersey.  I also saw several partially started cement buildings covered with graffitti- clearly the builder could no longer afford to finish the construction project. 
In fact, we saw lots of graffitti (which I actually
like- as a form of public and social art) but we were told that the city could no longer afford to clean it up.   

Candles at the Russian Orthodox Church 

Other details that struck me- Vilnius, particularly in the old town, is gloriously and amazingly baroque. Compared to the more solid, medieval feel of Tallinn's old town, churches explode with colors and flying angels and saints. Inside, heaven is pictured as a multi-layered confection of colors, light, clouds and gold and silver ornaments.  (I ask  you, who wouldn't want to end up there?)  In contrast to what we have been noticing in Tallinn, there were almost always people of all ages entering and praying inside. 


Church life seems to be thriving in Vilnius.  On Sunday, the congregation included mothers and children as well as teenagers kneeling next to the normal presence of older women with head scarves, dark boxy coats, black leather shoes and large purses and shopping bags. This is not to say the Tallinn has no spiritual life, but in Tallinn, people are more likely to seek their spirituality in nature or by practicing esoteric or non-western forms of spirituality.  For example, I have been leading some dance/movement therapy groups in a local center and the group members talk about chakra energy, meridians, moon cycles and energy. 

How would you like your pig prepared??? 

Outdoor market across the river 

We also had some great food in Vilnius. (for those of you wanting to hear more food details- here it comes) We went to a spicy Indian restaurant in the old town and shared the room with a large table of Russians (several plump older men escorting younger very made-up women). Each person at the table appeared to be consuming a full bottle of wine plus half a bottle of vodka each. Another day we went to a Chinese restaurant with a fish soup that tasted like the ocean. Surprising since Vilnius is so far inland. We also went to a Turkish restaurant and, after exchanging greetings in Turkish, found out about a nearby Masjid (which we we didnt have time to investigate). As we ate, the table next to us was filled with 8 Arab-looking men (I think they were from several different Middle Eastern countries, including Turkey, since they spoke English to communicate with each other). They sat down and started talking animatedly about Libya and other places where the struggle for freedom is particularly brutal. It was a welcome change to hear the passion and intensity of the conversation as they ate and then drank coffee and tea. And the food was delicious as well. 


Sunday we took the 8 hour bus ride back to Tallinn, so I literally spent my 60th birthday in three different countries. Quite a wild way to start this part of my life. 

St Ann's church in afternoon sunlight

My birthday was a wonderful celebration (thanks for the emails, cards and facebook greetings) At school the next day, I was feted with chocolate and flowers (an uneven number of red tulips, since even numbers are only for funerals) as well as being sung happy birthday in Estonian. Then that evening in class, I got chocolates, sung to again (with drums and musical instruments- as befitting creative arts therapy students) and got tossed in a chair  6 times (quite fun...think Jewish wedding but up and down rather than paraded around the room)  I don't actually know what it means to be 60-other than I keep getting told that I dont look or act 60.  I dont exactly know what that means. Am I supposed to get a cane? Not laugh? Walk slowly?   Maybe someone can tell me what it means to look or act 60!! 

View from Gates of Dawn

The only thing I notice is that I get offered a seat on the trolley more frequently.  (Is that it????) But, I had a great celebration and  I hope to have many more years to figure out what it means to have reached this life mile-stone.  


(This blog is being weird...to be continued on the next blog.)