A Visit to Helsinki

At last, we are visiting the largest city near to us. We've zoomed across the Gulf of Finland on the hydrofoil (express!) ferry for two hours to this city of over half a million, reminiscent of Stockholm as a northern city built on a series of islands. Buildings often lie along the waters, as in the photo to the left, and we are rarely more than a few blocks from a bay or canal.

We've come to town for a weekend workshop Barbara's leading (she may write more on that herself). But we have a day before it begins, so we're exploring a bit on foot--the old (1800's) waterside markets, both the Russian Orthodox and Lutheran Cathedrals, and the downtown streets lined with buildings noticeably taller (6+ stories) than "ours" in Tallinn (usually 3-4 stories high). Most of the city dates from the 19th century; at one point earlier, the Finns burned the city rather than turn it over to invading Russians, and the Russians leveled what remained in return--which means Helsinki has no "Old Town" (medieval section) dating back to the 1200's as does Tallinn.

But, like Estonia, Finland has its own myths of origin--stories of larger-than-life personalities who lived before the Christian conquest and conversation of this area, and whose stories were set down in both areas during the 1800's when each was seeking to define its culture and nationhood over against foreign occupation. In Finland the story is captured in the Kalevala, the "national epic," written down in 1835, an event memorialized in the statue below (the larger figure is the writer, the other two are key characters in the story). Paintings of the epic's themes are to be found in the national museum of art--one of the several places I enjoyed on my own while Barbara was doing her workshops.

Of course, while exploring Helsinki, I needed occasional re-fueling. The Esplanade Cafe, in the photo above, came recommended as one of the best places to get "pulla," the special Finnish rolls, in quite a variety of presentations beyond the plain round buns I was expecting.

The National Finnish Museum included quite a bit of social as well as political history, including the ways in which a modern urban middle class gradually evolved (the country was still mostly farming people until after World War I). The creation of a new sense of "home," domesticity, and a sense of male and female roles was illustrated by an exhibit of doll-houses: note the number of rooms, including rooms specialized both by task and sometimes by the gender of the person intended for, in the photo below. And, of course, the hours of "play" (possible for girls of privilege who were not limited to farmwork or domestic service) helped teach girls how a house is run, and what the tasks of women might be. (Interestingly, in spite of such lessons, Finland was the very first country in the world, in 1906, to grant women full political rights--not only the vote but the right to run for office!)

Barbara and I also visited the Uspenski Orthodox Cathedral, the largest in western Europe (see photo below--taken during "visiting hours" when no religious services were being held). It has a lovely sanctuary, but I must admit (in spite of being a visitor myself) that it lacked the religious feeling of other Orthodox churches we've visited in which believers wander in and out to pray with an icon and to light candles at any time. But perhaps there is a much smaller Russian-heritage population in Helsinki than in the Baltic areas we've lived in or visited. (And it was interesting to see the tourists from India at one of "our" religious sites, when so many westerners visit "theirs.")

I was on my own Saturday and Sunday, coming in to the keskus (centre) by commuter train from where the workshop was being held. I wandered into the "design district," which has a number of Art Nouveau buildings, and St. John's Church. It was a cool and windy morning, good for walking and people-watching.

Among the destinations in the back of my mind (to add to sheer delightful discoveries, without which any city wandering would be over-planned) were several bookshops. There still are not a lot of English-language books available in Tallinn, and I enjoyed browsing some used bookstores with a bit of English stock, and then the very large bookstore in the photo below.

But I think one of the things I found in Helsinki that was most meaningful to me personally was the chance to be, for a bit, in a less homogenous city for a while than Tallinn. Tallinn has very few immigrants (other than from places in the former Soviet Union), and few visible immigrants. In Finland about 5% of the population is now immigrant (including political refugees), higher in Helsinki. Many are from various Middle Eastern, African, and southeast Asian countries; over 200 different languages are spoken in Helsinki. And, by sheer good luck, we were in Helsinki when there was a chance to experience this diversity in two main ways.

One was that the Museum of Contemporary Art had all five floors of its exhibits devoted to contemporary African art, including the work of a variety of artists (film, photography, painting, sculpture, and so forth), and with attention to the connections between Finland and Africa. The photo to the right is striking; we see young men in Ghana in a field where junked electronics from Western countries have been brought for "recycling"--which often means burning the equipment until the rubber and plastic and chemicals are separated from the metal parts which are most valued for further re-sale. But it's ghastly work, dangerous work, and viewers couldn't forget, I think, that Finland's current prosperity is partly dependent on Nokia (the cellphone folks), or Estonia's much smaller prosperity on Skype (which was developed here).

The photo below is from a series on gay culture in Maputo (Mozambique) (where my niece Amy and her family are currently doing mission work for at least the next five years--though not on issues of gay life and the problems of HIV).

The exhibition as a whole was remarkable (sometimes inspiring, sometimes challenging, often depressing, often just fine art), and I was impressed by the efforts of a contemporary art museum to ask viewers questions about how Europeans think about Africa, how Africans imagine Europe, questions about immigration,

questions about what art might be in different cultural contexts, about the historical connections between Africa and even European countries like Finland which have been marginal to a more direct colonial role.

I mentioned that I was lucky to encounter diversity in Helsinki in two ways. The second was the annual "World Cultures Festival" in the center of the city: hundreds of different booths, some educational, some sponsored by various immigrant groups (with food for sale, or crafts or cultural items to show), some sponsored by various Finnish groups working with local immigrants or assisting work being done in their home countries--a number of African countries, but also Middle Eastern (Tunisia, Egypt, Palestine, Iraq), and Asia (Nepal, Burma, Vietnam, Cambodia). Plus lots of music from around the world. (The photo to the right shows the food booth from folks from Gambia.)

There was a very nice feel to the occasion. Yet I also know this new immigration has been challenging to native Finns, especially during a time of economic down-turn. In the recent (April) elections the "True Finn" party got 19% of the vote, a very significant share in a parliamentary system, alarming many more liberal Finns with its themes of nationalism, Finnish identity, and rejection of the more open borders encouraged by the European Union. One sees parallel political reactions in places like France and Britain and elsewhere (the U.S.). Perhaps part of what seemed hopeful to me about the museum exhibit, and the world cultures celebration, was that they seemed to represent a "vote" that issues over immigration and the differences in culture, language, and religions immigration brings, are worth engaging with rather than turning one's back on.

And that's all for now. Bruce

Trauma and "Where is Paradise?"

During the months we have been in Estonia, there have been many times when I wonder if we are somehow living in some protected, idyllic part of the world.  We watch the news often. Usually BBC World News, Deutchewelle and EuroNews which are both fairly balanced, centrist views of current happenings and world events. (Well, let me correct that slightly:  BBC covered 'the wedding' -- don't even ask which one..you should know!!!- as well as the Queen's and 'O'Bama's' recent visit to Ireland -- in enough live and extensive details to satisfy me for the rest of my life.) The natural and human violence happening on the world stage is overwhelming and deeply tragic- Yemen, Libya, Egypt, Palestine, Israel, Fukoshima, Japan, Joplin MO, North Minneapolis, the volcano in Iceland, the on-going impact of the economic slalom as well as local political events such as the Minnesota decision to include a vote that would defining marriage in heterosexual terms in the next election. All of these challenging news items, seem to be occurring far away and in my imagination their stories enter Estonia airspace only through the magic of cyberspace and radio waves.  (Side note: In the US, the recent hurricanes made BBC headline news but, sadly, the many American poltical travesties that seem to primarly oppress marginalized groups have not merited BBC attention.) 


To add to this impression, it is gloriously spring. Daylight is increasing in huge increments- it is light by 4 am and we can see clear, sharp shadows at 10 pm.  The lilacs are just beginning to bloom, tulips are coming (in colors and varieties I am not used to seeing in the US), white candle-like chestnut blossoms point sky-ward from a green leafy base and the world is filled with a pallette of greens set in a bright blue-sky background filled with puffy scutting clouds. 


However, as I read student journals, I what see beneath the surface of most of my students is deep, unnamed trauma and sadness.  I am touched and tearful as I read their journals. One student follows an area of body pain that they had 'forgotten' but never addressed directly.  Her discomfort takes her to the deeper memory of a bus accident and of a grandparent who died while pushing her to safety.  Someone else connects with childhood memories of a father who returned from deportation to Siberia (by the soviets) a different person- silent and withdrawn. And who committed suicide about a year later.  Other students focus only on happy thoughts at all costs.  Grieving, for them is a sign of personal weakness to be avoided, even in private.  Others are harnessed with expectations of personal perfection- and often seem to expect tirades of shame and criticism from their teachers (or me) when their perfect standard is not full met.  For many of my students, trust and safety seem to be new experiences for them, and their journals simultaneously reflect their deep hunger for being valued and seen and a reluctance to be hurt or disappointed, as they have been, so often in the past.   


But my students also courageously dive into the deepest, darkest parts of their stories and beings in a way that is rare in other classes or settings where I have taught.  For most of my students, my sense is that life is a struggle to be conquored and they meet their hardest challenges and memories head-on at full speed. I wonder how they have already learned this, at their relatively young age (aplogies to those of you out there, for whom this is not a young age- but for me it is). I find myself reminding them, over and over again, that it is normal to feel sad when a parent dies, when a friend suicides, when people or the world disappoints you.  And that you are not a failure as a human being, if you take time to pause and find a way to acknoweldge those feelings.  


I led a workshop for therapists on trauma, and one man wonders if it is any value in returning to work on  painful experiences from the past.  My first thought is to reluctantly agree with him, but then I ask him about happiness in his life, and close relationships.  Within a few sentences, he is sharing his observations that in addition to avoiding hard feelings, he is also unable to feel the pleasant ones, or feel intimacy and trust with another person.  His comment reminded me, once again, of how hard the journey out of trauma is, and that it is often the anguish  and longing for other emotions and experiences that keeps most of us walking this particular path.


I also was talking with a student who graduation project is called 'Where is your Paradise?'. The film shows several mummy-wrapped dancers standing statue-like in the middle of a busy downtown intersection.  This alternated with brief glimpses of them, similarly attired on a solitary rock next to grey roiling sky and sea, and also in an opulent green meadow filled with yellow flowers. The film ended inconclusively...the dancers remained wrapped in their shrounds and in the last scene they are still being buffeted by wind from the shifting grey waters.   I asked my student where paradise was for her? What was she wanting to share with us, through her work?  How she would answer her own question? She answered that she did not yet know, and that paradise remained something ephemeral and distant...outside of her daily grasp and possibly unreachable.... somewhere in the green flower-filled field. 


Her answer, reflected my sense of so many of the people I meet here- on the surface they are strong, resilient, intelligent, curious, unflinching, but under this surface lies unnamed and untouched darknesses. In someways it parallels the seasonal dance of light and dark in this part of the world.  Spring ands summer arrive in glorious but brief abundance. It is as if everyone changes personality and disappear to their 'summer home' somewhere in the country (on an island, by a lake, in the woods...it doesnt matter where...but it is green and away from people and urbanization).  Summer is short but intense with almost constant sunlight (We walked home last night at 10:30 and, if we had wanted, we could have easily read outside in Vabaduse Valjak). But then winter, with its longer darkness, cold and ice arrives and it is as if summer never existed.  


Which came first, the earthly seasonal pattern of light and dark? The historic journey these people have had for so long, of being invaded, conquored and oppressed by a larger- land hungy power (Sweden, Germany, Russia, the Soviets)? The cultural personality of northern Europeans in general (having lived, taught and worked for so many years in Minnesota with its large Scandinavian population, I feel a strange familiarity with the personalities of my Estonian students and colleagues.) Or perhaps other factors that have shaped the people of this nation.  And, so far this question remains unanswered for me.


And with this entry, we are off to Helsinki for the weekend. Nagemiste 

Copenhagen and Aarhus: Part II

Barbara wrote recently about our week in Denmark, where she was attending a three-day conference. In this blog I'm going to add a few more photos of our time, and my own adventures while she was busy.

Barbara's reading in the cozy flat (4th floor; we seem to be drawn to developing legs of steel by our choice of apartments--but the views are great!). This was our first time getting a place to stay through "AirBnB," which connects people willing to rent their spare room for a few days to those of us who are passing through and who wish something less expensive and more homey than hotels usually offer. Our Copenhagen flat was a nice one, lots of interesting design features without being fancy (I was reluctant to leave!). We even had the place to ourself.

We also enjoyed our neighborhood, which had a lot of immigrants (with a variety of small cafes, fruit and vegetable shops, and other small businesses) from the Middle East and South Asia (note the barber shop in the photo to the left, the "Salon Bagdad," the "Halel" butcher shop farther on, and a Middle Eastern sweet shop behind that. After months here in Tallinn, with many days when I saw no one less white than Barbara, we felt "at home" in a familiar way. We had several good lunches at Turkish buffets, and enjoyed a brief conversation with the imam ("pastor") of the Turkish mosque and his wife.

Barbara noted that Copenhagen was some weeks further into spring than we had so far reach when we left Tallinn, and it was lovely to feel the warm breezes, see the flowers, walk through a neighborhood street party, explore the botanical gardens and parks--some of which featured statues of famous Danes like Soren Kierkegaard.

I also spent time myself exploring the local bookstores, especially around the university area. The photo to the right shows one of the cafe bookstores popular with young folks there, though a close look seems to show them all absorbed in their laptops rather than the books nicely shelved above their head (!).

Denmark is known as among the most "green" countries in the world, with perhaps the highest percentage of its energy use produced by renewable sources. At least a small part of that must be due to Copenhagen's good (if expensive) public transportation, complemented by bicycle mania. Bicycle "parking lots" typically are found in many squares, near transit stations, and the trains. Bicycle use is encouraged by the fact that the city seems to be almost flat (and just above sea level, which would give it an additional motive to fight global warming), and the fact the bicycle "lanes" are actually set apart from (and between) the center lanes for cars and the sidewalks for pedestrians--so bicyclists have a dedicated lane on all larger streets, perhaps eight feet wide, for their own use (rather than a narrow painted one). This seems to work out well, with hundreds of bicycles zipping by, though there is some challenge for the foreign visitor who's only used to watching for cars.

Some among our loyal readers may be wondering at the lack of mention so far to Copenhagen's famous "Little Mermaid" statue our in the harbor. We did not actually see it, so instead I

include the photo below of "My Little Mermaid," along one of the famous canals (sometimes we felt like we were in Amsterdam!).

The day we walked along the canal, the street above it was packed with locals and visitors eating (lots of seafood!) at the many outdoor cafes, soaking up the warm sunlight and listening to the occasional musical groups.

We ourselves were often seeking less expensive places to eat. As I've mentioned, Copenhagen seemed quite pricey to us (though I expect this may be typical of the several northwestern European countries we'll be visiting before we return to Minnesota). We sometimes wondered how the various immigrant groups could manage to flourish, and whether their earnings could cope with the kinds of prices the more affluent native Danes would more easily afford.

While Barbara was at her workshop, I hopped on the bus to Denmark's "second city," Aarhus (a journey which was actually half on a ferry). Tabassum, someone I'd known long ago as a student at St. Olaf (graduating in 1997) had married a German mathematician, and they and their two children were living there. She extended a warm welcome should I be able to come and visit, and I had a wonderful visit with the whole family--catching up a bit on the past 14 years, and in effect getting to know each other in a new way.

In the photo below, Tabassum is getting the two kids ready to go to kindergarten. Denmark is one of the Scandinavian states with extensive "social welfare" policies--health insurance for the population, good quality child-care and kindergarten provided from the age of 6 months for parents who wish it (who can also take off much of a year with pay after the birth of a child), and so forth--all in exchange for a tax rate around 50%.

I appreciated having part of a day with Tabu to explore Aarhus, while the rest of the family was off doing their thing, including lunch at her favorite inexpensive Thai cafe, and exploring the architecturally impressive art museum. Time with the kids gave me a chance to revive (from some place long set aside) my German (which the household shares)-- since I have the vocabulary of about a three year old, I found we could get along just fine, using English to fill in when necessary (the kids know something of four languages at this point, and they haven't even started "real school" yet!).

In the photo on the right, I'm seen with my inner child (for whom I can now stop searching!) (but perhaps running from instead?). This incredibly (and eerily) life-like work is featured in the art museum in Aarhus.

I also had some time on my own to wander around Aarhus, including the Cathedral (in the photo on the lower left), a wonderful old church. My visit was enriched by a soloist who was practicing her music for a later time--her voice soared through the entire sanctuary. I also visited the Women's History Museum nearby, and particularly liked trying to figure out both the parallels and the differences between the women's movement in Denmark and in America. (Note also the cartoon below the photo of the cathedral--not from this museum but rather from the Workers' Museum in Copenhagen--which captures some of the growing consciousness among women in the modern era, many of whom were finding that even voting, educated, and working women needed more hands to accomplish their tasks than they had!)

The last two photos (and sorry these are not in the order I'd originally intended--I seem to be technologically challenged when writing these blogs!) are on the lower right. One is the steeple of the church (imitating a Near Eastern ziggurat) which is next to Christiania, the long experiment in more or less anarchistic community life found in Copenhagen. I wandered through it early one morning, when residents seemed to be getting the day set up, having their coffee, talking in small groups (under prominent signs forbidding photography, hence I have no photos of my visit to share). They've run into troubles with authorities over drug use, but it was interesting to me as both a sociologist and a child of the 60's that this kind of experiment has survived this long.

And the lower photo is one Tabu took of me when we biked to a lake near the family's house, and found a peaceful morning, lakebirds, and gardens awaiting. Till next time! Bruce

Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen......

We have just returned from Copenhagen (Denmark) and six days of travel into the future: Because Copenhagen is about 3 seasonal weeks ahead of Tallinn, we were suddenly in a place that was ‘hot’ with blooming tulips and trees covered with large dark green leaves.  We were in Copenhagen so that I could attend a workshop on somatic-based Attachment approaches, but early on, our plans expanded to i a few additional days of exploration and time for Bruce to visit an ex-student and her family currently living in Arhus (I will leave that part of the story for him to tell.)

Copenhagen town hall

Coffee kiosk and bikes-typical street scene

Our journey to Denmark was quick and easy- first, a short walk downstairs to the tram- a block away from our apartment. Fifteen minutes later we are at the small Tallinn airport.  After zipping through security, we board our plane (which  offered drinks and fresh baked chocolate chip muffins even to us cheapo economy passengers) and land in Copenhagen 1.5 hour later, after flying over glistening water and hundreds of islands.  Then a city train to Copenhagen central station and, after wading through hoards of people (Danes seem to be shorter, wider and much more casually dressed than Estonians, a challenging adjustment) we walked 20 minutes to Vesterbro, the ‘new/cool’ working class neighborhood and the apartment that was to be our 'home' for a few days.
As we walked,  I happily notice that we were passing through a neighborhood with many small Middle Eastern and Turkish shops and food stands, as well as men with large mustaches, hijab-covered women and lots of small children in a rainbow of clothing colors.  As we walked we soon learned to be careful of the bikes speeding by and to not walk in the bike-lanes, (which looked like sidewalks) if we wanted to avoid an accident.  The apartment, gotten through airBnB-a website that connects folks who have places to rent with people who are looking for a place to stay, was quiet, elegantly basic and filled with light.  After finding a local bakery for some substantial bread, tomatoes and coffee we settled in.

The historic 'touristy' canal

Kayaking on the canal..

For the first three days, we spent our time wandering and exploring different neighborhoods, from touristy canals with colorful historic houses to gritty working class neighborhoods filled with recent immigrants from Somalia, Iran, Turkey, Beirut and more.  We wandered into a nearby Turkish Cami/Mosque and were immediately greeted with an offer of tea.  As we sipped, the imam’s wife arrived (her English was better than her husband’s) and we talked about the experiences of the Muslim community in Denmark. According to her, all was fine, although I am not sure how true  this might have been. 

We also went to several museums, some abundantly overwhelming and other underwhelming. The most impressive exhibits were the Davids collection of Arabic art, a multi-story house filled with fabrics, paintings, calligraphy and other art objects of amazing beauty and variety. We could probably have spent several days exploring and admiring the beauty of the extensive collection.  We also went to the Danish National Museum and zoomed through an entire floor of Danish history and culture in the few minutes before it closed for the day.  We visited other museums were less impressive. The Jewish museum seemed small and superficial, despite its creatively designed building (the rooms were a stylized form of the Hebrew work ‘mitzvah’ which means good deed.) Historically, the Dane were one of the few nations where all of its citizens protected its Jewish population during World War II by everyone wearing a yellow star.  I was curious to know what cultural values led to this historic action? I also wondered how the Jewish community and other immigrant/ outsiders were currently viewed. However, these topics were not addressed.

Paintings in the National Art Museum

The National Art Museum was also somewhat underwhelming.  The building itself was expanded by leaving the old building intact and with a separate but connected structure that was made of glass walls to allow the outside in.  Inside, paintings were displayed in a giant ‘Victorian-styled’ patchwork, making it impossible to see many of the actual paintings.  Another museum we visited also seemed to be ‘viewing challenged’, with dim lighting and walls colored pink or blue or green. 

I am still curious about life now in Denmark, especially for those who are newcomer or ‘gers ‘(The term that is used in the Torah for people who live in or near your community but are not originally from your community.)  While 6 days is not enough to begin to understand the Danes, there was a lot that I found challenging.   My random impressions made me wonder how easy it is to adopt Denmark as a new home, despite its modern, developed European society. To start with, both Bruce and I were boggled by the cost of eating out and also of public transportation. While food-market prices seems somewhat in-line with what we were used to in Estonia, restaurants are incredibly more expensive-even for kebab stands. Similarly, public transportation is cheap but only if you are around long enough to use a 10-trip clip-card.  However, individual tickets are incredibly expensive. Although many metro stops are fully automated, if you don’t have coins to pay for your tickets you are out of luck. (At one point trying to rush to the airport, we realized there was no way to change our paper money to coins and were rescued by a local woman who offered coins for our bills.). 

wifi in the park...life is good!!!!

I was struck by the comments of a older local Jewish woman. She seemed exuberantly ecstatic to meet someone else who was Jewish and immediately said she felt drawn to both me and another woman who was at the workshop who was a therapist from Israel.  The Danish woman also commented, at one point, upon seeing the local rabbi crossing the street, that the rabbi was one of the bravest men she knew, because he wore a kippah in public. I am not clear what part of her comment came from her own sense of danger/trauma in her world and what was a mirror of a larger danger, but it was strange to hear her words in the middle of a busy, modern Danish intersection filled with people, bikes, trams and cars.  In the workshop I was attending, there seemed to be a natural split between Danish locals and the 4 or 5 of us from outside of Copenhagen.  No one came up to introduce them self by name or start a conversation.  While this might have been due to shyness, I felt like an outlier and some of the other non-Danes I met seemed to feel the same way.  This pattern seemed to fit what I have read about Danish responses to more recent Muslim immigrations but not with Denmark’s historic World War II response to threats to its Jewish community.  Of course, I don’t speak Danish and was only in one city for almost a week so these are only simplistic impressions, but in subsequent conversations with some local Estonian colleagues,  my impression that Denmark was be a hard place to feel at home was confirmed.

Old town building in Copenhagen

Speaking of home, our time in Estonia is coming to a close and I am noticing confusion about where my home actually is.  When I picture home, it looks a lot like our Tallinn apartment and only after a few seconds do I have images of our backyard or bedroom in Minneapolis.  Living in a smaller space, with much less clothing and belongings, what I have in Minnesota seems excessive- I mean, how much can anyone wear anyway?  

I am also trying not to think to much about the fact that it is mid May and a month from now, we will have moved out of our sweet apartment permanently, and be on our way to Amsterdam.  From there, we will have a brief transition day before we head  to Ireland, Scotland, France and, finally back to the Netherlands and then home.  I am sad and acutely aware of the brief amount of time we have left  in this delightful city and country.
 I don’t like good byes, but the count down is beginning… we are starting to make lists: what things do we want to do/visit/travel to/experience or eat before we leave.  Soon it will be the last time that we pay rent, or do laundry or a multitude of other small daily events that are unique to our being here (and that I never would have thought I would miss or be nostalgic about).  We are starting to think about boxes to be sent home, local crafts to purchase and -of course- saying many good byes.  We will be leaving despite the many wonderful things we will be missing-  Tallinn will be hosting a song festival in July, there are dance and theater performances throughout the summer and of course we will miss the the experience of  ‘white nights’ of midsummer (although we will be in Ireland at that time).  I am already feeling very sad. 

local cute Scandinavian guy...quite suave.. 

Riga and Tartu: Part II, from Bruce

In her last post, Barbara captured much of our experiences recently in Riga (capital of Latvia, and largest city in the Baltics) and Tartu (Estonia's "second city" and site of its oldest university). But I'll add a few more words and photos about our time there. These two trips are part of a flurry of traveling we're doing as we near the end of our time in Estonia; a week in Copenhagen (Denmark) and time in Helsinki (Finland) are following, both prompted by Barbara's involvement in workshops, and will (of course!) be the subject of later posts (for those of you who are still hanging in there as at least occasional readers).

As usual, our travels have included at least some time in historic churches. This is almost always about more than just seeing (an often magnificent) church building, or lovely windows.

It's also about theological disputes, the impact of the Reformation, the rise of new social classes, rival empires, and new ideas about how to build and use large interior spaces without some of our modern machinery or tools. The first photo above shows two stained-glass windows at the Dome Church in Riga; local nobles play an important role among the religious figures who are portrayed. When the church was still Catholic, those who were buried in it were long-serving priests and church officials, but after the Protestant Reformation and the transformation of the church to Lutheran control, it seems the rising merchant class was able to be buried

in the church itself (evidently something that carried a lot of status) by making large donations (those who are sociologically inclined may hear echoes of Max Weber's ideas about capitalism and the "Protestant Ethic"!).

The second photo, of the children, illustrates a different part of church life we encounter: the way in which local people participate in church life. These kids--well, to be more accurate, the girls--were being shown how to make sure they had put on their headscarves correctly before going into the large Russian Orthodox cathedral, to be respectful in the sacred space (as does Barbara when we enter Orthodox or Muslim "space.") Inside the cathedral itself, I was struck both by the beauty of the interior, but also that, since Easter, several Orthodox churches we visited have had the door standing open to the inner sanctuary, making visible space and an altar that is not ordinarily seen by the congregation--something unusual enough in our limited experience to have a theological meaning we haven't yet learned.

But, on more mundane matters, the third photo, above, illustrates (if additional proof were needed beyond earlier postings) that people in this part of the world love their cakes and pastries. This is one of a number of small but busy bakeries one finds in the Old Town in Riga in which both locals and tourists happily find something to munch. But it was also just getting warm enough in Riga (at least by mid-day) to enjoy the newly-set up outdoor tables by the myriad of cafes, as seen in the photo to the right.

Workers were busy everywhere putting in low wooden platforms on which diners sit.

And, of course, one of our favorite places to see and sometimes to buy and eat tasty things in the Baltics is at a local "turg" or market. These are the large daily markets found in most eastern European cities where there are dozens, sometimes hundreds, of small booths, arranged in different areas, or even different buildings (for fruits and vegetables; for meat and sausages; for fish; for cheese and dairy products; and often for shoes, clothing, and other specialty items). Many, perhaps most, of the people who are in charge of each shop are women, including the butchers, so these markets provide work for hundreds of (often older) women.

Barbara has a particular love for such places, and she's shown in the photo below to the left at the rather vast Riga turg (this is only one of five covered areas, not to mention outdoor tables).

In some ways these markets seem more part of this and other areas we've been to (including the Middle East, and Southeast Asia with both its day and "night markets"), than of Western Europe or the U.S. These are areas where western style "supermarkets" with pre-packaged foodstuffs and a self-serve attitude are relatively recent, and a large proportion of the local population shop at their traditional markets, especially older folks (I've noticed on the tram in Tallinn how all the older women get off at the stop for the Keskturg (Central Market), while all the teenage girls get off at the stop for the shopping center!

Back to Riga's Old Town. The photo below is of the completely-restored Blackheads Hall, an important organization of influential men in several parts of the Baltics during medieval times. It's rather dazzling to see, but also amazing to realize that it's not the original building, which was destroyed in (I believe) World War II bombing, and yet (like Warsaw's old center) painstakingly recreated. (The medieval, historic areas of European cities can have a rather fairy-tale like appearance and charm, yet the realities of 20th century wars and genocides often lie not far beneath the surface.)

Another area of Riga we were amazed by are the streets where some of the finest examples of Art Nouveau architecture and decoration may be seen. Evidently Riga has more Art Nouveau buildings than any other city in the world (who knew? I wasn't sure what "Art Nouveau" even was!). Whole buildings are works of art, yet sometimes it's the details, as in the photo above, that caught our eye. So much attention was spent on details those actually living in the buildings would not see most of the time, but which would be admired by passers-by. And some of the most interesting details were up near the top of a building, 4-5 stories high!

We were in Riga because Barbara was doing three workshops at a dance conference, arranged through the U.S. Embassy there (she loved seeing what others in her field in this part of the world are doing!). While she was being useful, I would wander off on my own to see more. I liked the museum of Latvian history (full of stuff! pre-historical Latvia! Early ways of life! At heart I'm a bit of a geek.) And (as in Lithuania and Estonia) an important part of the story of Latvia is of the subjugation of the local population by armies bringing Christianity to "pagan" northern Europe around 1200-1300 (the faith was spread not only by devoted church workers but also at the point of a sword). The Germanic armies would eventually usher in German control of the land and the emergence of a German-based nobility and landed elite, with a local peasantry which was increasingly bound to the land as serfs, gaining their release only in the 1840's.)

The basket (photo above) of traditional Latvian work with wool and linen (made by hand from flax) at the museum was part of the story of the daily lives of the peasants--dress, folk songs and dance (as in Estonia, there's a particular rich tradition of folk songs, of which literally thousands have been collected), and the kinds of weaving and knitting by which women might distinguish themselves (the very finest mittens--mittens were essential in the far northern winters--would be part of her wedding things, proof of her talents, and never to be actually worn).

More modern artwork, from the 1960's-1980's, is shown in the photo above to the left, at the Latvian Artists' Union, in a retrospective show of their art from the late Soviet period when new ideas about art were coming in from abroad, and artists were increasingly finding ways to express their ideas without too directly challenging political orthodoxy of the time. Like religion, art seems to be about more than art--reflecting not only individual artists, but broad social trends, political events, the introduction of new techniques and media, and so on.

I'll conclude a perhaps too-long posting with three photos. The one on the lower right is a concert by the Chicago Children's Choir, a group of young people from many different backgrounds but sharing a love for music and a message of love for diversity who wowed an audience of local folks in Riga. They shared the stage with the Girls' Choir from the same Dome Church at which the stained-glass photo above was taken. (The following evening they gave a concert with Bobbie McFerron from the U.S.)

And the last two photos are from Tartu, in southern Estonia. Barbara was invited to do a workshop there with teachers at a school for children with special challenges, but we also had some time to look around. One stop was the greenhouse--with the orchid in the photo below left. After a long, cold winter, it was amazing to feel warm, moist "tropical" air as we stepped inside, to a greenness not seen for some time! Wow!

And the final photo is from Tartu's Old Town, in front of their town hall--right in the area of their old university. Two students are swept up in more than their studies, doubtless much to the delight of many. And that's all for now. Thanks for reading! Bruce

Spring and Road Trips

Riga- Old and New

Riga Dome Church 

Spring has definitely arrived in Tallinn…later blooming bulbs are appearing, adding bright touches of red and yellow which contrast the rapid transition to shades of green.  Winter coats have disappeared- although I still stuff a beret in my pocket and wrap a small scarf around my neck-just in case the wind is from the water.. What is most amazing is that in early May, the twilight extends until 11 pm.  The season of ‘white nights’ is approaching, when everyone stays outside singing and drinking around huge bonfires. Supposedly on St. John’s day (June 24^th), there is a tradition of leaping over the burning fires- no one seems to remember why (we will unfortunately be gone by that time- although I doubt that I would be able to stay awake that late into the night.).

These past few weeks have also been a time of multiple road trips, providing us an opportunity to see more of the region. (Although the idea of a road trip feels a bit like an oxymoron. Aren’t we already ‘ on an extended road trip’ in Tallinn?  What does it mean to on  a road trip from a road trip? And what or where is home anyway?)

 Spring road trip #1- I was invited by the US embassy in Riga, Latvia to teach several classes and workshops for ‘International Dance Day’.  We hopped the 4-hour bus to Riga, arriving a day early to explore and see how the city has changed since our last brief visits 14 years ago. 

Orthodox Cathedral

Art Nouveaux Building 

First impressions: Riga is a big city.  It is charming, bustling and quite different from Tallinn in many ways. The older part of Riga is laid out with several wide, green, and well-used parks.  The Daugava River runs through the middle of the city and there is also a smaller moat that provides additional trees and grass for public hanging out. We explored the old town and visit churches as well as the Orthodox Cathedral, which had been beautifully renovated. Its inner sanctuary was filled with colors dominated by pastel blues, pictures of saints and many ornate metal-covered saint icons, fronted by stands for prayer candles. (No pictures were allowed, unfortunately). Next on the spiritual buildings tour, we visited the beautifully renovated synagogue where I remember attending Yom Kippur services 14 years ago. (Unfortunately, we were unable to make it back for services this time.)

Our walking continued, the decorative Art Nouveaux district, is next to the old townand  filled with elaborate, ‘wedding cake’ buildings.  Each building was unique and elaborately covered with stucco sculptures of plants, animals, dragons, cloth-draped men and women and lace-like decorations filling all remaining available space.  Even without a map, it was easy to find the buildings, you just needed to follow the hoards of tourists, walking with cameras out and peering upward.  

Two boys being creative....

Next, the Latvian Art Museu housed in a large mansion with double, ornately carved curved staircases. What is most interesting about local modern art museums is to see how local artists responded to major art trends Impressionism, Fauism, Romanticism, in ways the uniquely reflect their own heritage and culture.  The day we were there, we saw children and adults drawing pictures in front of a photo exhibit, and  we also chatted with a group of young people who were ‘fixing water damage to some of the museum rooms’ as part of the city-wide ‘fix-up Riga day’. Of course, we went to Riga’s  ‘famous’ airplane-hanger central market and wandering around made me wish I have a kitchen so I could buy the fresh produce and cook it up.  It looked like you could get anything at the market –veggies, fruits, fish, meat, cheese, spices (some hard to find in Tallinn,, dried legumes,  flowers, plants for gardens, fresh baked bread and cakes, to name a only part of what was available.  The action was lively, primarily in Russian and the products were more varied and artistically laid out than in Tallinn. 

International DMT dinner

In addition to the sights, I loved meeting and doing some workshops and supervision with members of the Latvian DMT community. I also got to teach a workshop for local choreographers and one for the larger dance community (45 people in that last workshop…whew !!!).  I was impressed by the depth and openness of these wonderful people.  They moved from deep places and asked thoughtful questions. I was also pleasantly surprised by how far both the DMT community and the modern dance community have come since soviet times.   An added bonus to being in Estonia, is that I get to meet dance/movement therapist from all over Europe, including, Germany, Prague, Great Britain, Finland and of course the Baltics.  It is fun to meet with various colleagues and share our work, perspectives and struggles. 

Town Hall Square in Tartu

Spring road trip #2: Tartu.  Arriving back from Riga I had two days to teach a few classes before hoppingon the bus again, this time to teach a DMT workshop in Tartu, Estonia for staff at a school for children and adults with several mental and physical disabilities. And, of course, we arrived early to explore. Highlights included wandering this small university town- the ‘soul’ of Estonia which was green, easily walk-able and edged by a broad flowing river.   For me the high point of our exploring was going to the Song Festival Museum and spending time viewing films of song festivals going back to before World War II.  I was deeply moved and tearful to hear the songs and stories of how music and dance kept Estonian/Baltic identity and spirit alive. The power of these two creative art forms was a unifying and transformative reality throughout the times of war, invasion and oppression.  For me, the Baltic journey toward autonomy and independence is such a strong contrast to more contemporary struggles for freedom, and, although the lived experience for local people was still oppressive and traumatic, it seems so much less violent.  In conversations about this with local Estonians, I an not sure how much of possibility of the ‘singing revolution’ reflected a different time in history, what was a reflection of Baltic/Northern European cultural characteristics and how much has to do the with what other means were or were not available for that struggle.

Tartu - view from St. Jaani Kirke

Tartu River 

Spring Roadtrip #3: And now we are sitting in the Tallinn airport, to fly to Copenhagen for 6 days. We will have several days to explore and then I will be attending a body-base attachment workshop while Bruce visits a student who currently lives in Aarhaus.  More later…

Food appendices: As spring approaches, the food options are becoming more varied and fresher. Traditional Estonian (and Baltic) food reflects the seasonal options of lands that are located far to the north and so dark and cold much of the year. Estonian traditional dishes include potatoes (which actually have a rich creamy taste and are served boiled and topped with dill for flavor); cabbage in all forms (both pickled and used in place of lettuce or any other green leafy vegetable);  a seemingly infinite range of pork products (with different words to describe each form, cut and age of the pig involved); fresh and smoked fish of many types (although salmon seems to be the default fish product).  The traditional Estonian soup is hernesupp or dried pea soup made with pork (of course) and carrots (NB: the plural of soup is supid –giving rise to many possible puns in English); many types of mild cheese and many different varieties of yogurt, kefir and cultured milk products, often in a range of fruit flavors.  A wide variety of fruit is available, although we are especially enjoying oranges from all over (Spanish blood oranges, Moroccan clementines and Italian juice oranges). I am also making a lot of apple and pear dumplings, wrapped in pastry dough. Finally, Estonia has outstanding dark bread…although we have to search in local markets (turgs) and bakeries (pagars) for the best dense, multi-grained loaves. 

View of Tartu from Fortress Hill 

Beyond local fare there are many different immigrant tastes available. The large and varied Russian population has contributed a special soup called Soljanka- made with at least seven types of meat (usually pork, ham and sausage), tomato, vegetables, plus pickles and olives and served with a dollop of sour cream.  The immigrants from Kazakstan and Azerbaijan contributed all sorts of flame-seared meats or shashliks, usually served with bread and cabbage salad, as well as meat dumplings with sour cream (these are called pirogi, or pelmeni or Russian ravioli, depending on the restaurant). Another basic staple is chocolate and fancy cookies and cakes…its hard to image how people stay so thin when they seem to be constantly meeting friends for coffee and sweets !!!!

Riga Market produce

Pickles and cabbage for sale

Less typical foreign foods are also available, as we have mentioned before, Asian restaurants seem to offer a combination of South Asian (Indian), Chinese and Thai foods…although the flavors are a bit more subdued that you might find in other places of the world.  However, we have also been able to find some incredibly delicious food in our explorations of Tallinn and other cities. In Riga, I had dinner with a few local DMTs and we want to an incredibly elegant French restaurant- with curry and scallion infused butter spread, a rich, dense  fish soup, good quality wine and perhaps the richest beef bourguignon I have ever tasted. In Tartu we went to a Chinese restaurant that, surprisingly, had only Chinese food- and one of the dishes was a spicy sauced eggplant dish—crisp on the outside and meltingly soft on the inside.  We have also found some delicious South Asian/Indian restaurants in Tallinn (most Asian restaurants seem to have cooks/chefs from India or Pakistan).  Of course Japanese sushi is also the big rage everywhere we have gone, and across the street there is a cheap, basic sushi place, complete with Manga films on the wall and waitresses (all are young women) in kitty ears headbands. There are also many pizza and Italian places, although we often opt for more varied options. So, we are not going hungry and it is fun to see spring produce slowing make its appearance in the local stores and markets.

Well, I better leave some details for Bruce, tervitustega (with health…) Barbara