Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania -- So far from God, so close to the Russian Federation. A decade of independence and loving it! The latest word from 800-year-old Tallinn; medieval but wired.
Google bombs TALLINN -- Reading your referral logs is always entertaining. I make one oblique reference in an earlier post to "valedictorian speeches," and that's half my google hits for the last two weeks.
Looking at it, though, its line -- "Don't feel guilty if you don't know the names of all the Baltic states. Most Journalists I know don't know the names of any of the Baltic states. Despite what you were told in school, it just doesn't matter. (Unless, of course, you live in one of the Baltic states.)" -- certainly isn't as funny as it was eight or so years ago.
For those of you searching for your Piret Järvis news, I ran into her on the street a couple weeks ago. She says she's moving to Germany on a temporary basis.
For the Googlers for "hot Estonian women," well, we have them, but at this site, we don't HAVE them.
The 'White Book' on the occupations of Estonia is released TALLINN -- After 12 years of work, an Estonian state commission has recently released its report on the impact of the Soviet and Nazi occupations on Estonia, which lasted more than 54 years in total in the 20th century. The report, called the "White Book," is now just starting to be distributed. As detailed in the Baltic Times:
According to the report, during the first Soviet occupation from 1940 to 1941, Estonia lost about 48,000 people. The three years of German occupation resulted in the death of about 32,000 citizens of various nationalities, including 929 Jews and 243 Gypsies who were either killed in concentration camps or in battle. During the second Soviet occupation, which lasted from 1944 to 1994, Estonia lost nearly 121,000 people. In all, the country lost about 180,000 people, or nearly 18 percent of the population.
The second Soviet occupation of Estonia caused $100 billion in losses to the economy, and the Soviet army caused $4 billion in environmental damages, the report stated.
Vello Salo, the head of the commission, has come up with a unique proposition for balancing the ledger. Siberian Light has the details.
If you are interested in learning more about this period of Estonian history, the year-old Museum of Occupations in Tallinn has a series of films devoted to the three occupation periods. You can watch them in three video formats from this web page.
Latvian rock n' roller killed in car crash TALLINN -- Gundars "Muminš" Mauševics, the bassist of the Latvian band Brainstorm, died in a car crash this weekend, the Baltic News Service is saying.
Too bad. Brainstorm (Prata Vetra in Latvian, I think), has probably been the Baltics' best, and most widely recognized rock n' roll band for several years. They took third place in the Eurovision song contest in 2000, and have opened for bands like Depeche Mode, the Cranberries, and the Rolling Stones.
I never picked up one of their albums, but I had a Latvian girlfriend a couple years ago who had several. I'd describe their sound as reminiscent of Rush, at least of what I remember of Rush. A lot of their tunes are in English, so you might check 'em out.
His car crashed on the Riga-Jelgava highway sometime on Sunday. The Riga county police are quoted as saying it was likely that he had been speeding and failed to make a sharp turn that the road made in that place. His Audi ended up in a peat bog.
Mausevics' apparent speeding aside, I love a lot of things about Latvia, but driving there is definitely not one of them. I've found few countries more frustrating. The street signs are small when viewed from streets, and roads are poorly marked. Turns are usually marked just meters from the actual turn, which means that more often than not, I would miss the turn, and have to turn around and circle back.
I spent a week down there over New Year's, and after the second day, I decided that I felt so unsafe, I wouldn't drive anymore at night, limiting me to about five hours in the middle of the Baltic winter.
Latvia has one of the highest automobile fatality rates in Europe. Our business dean, Kalle Tiiter, was killed in a head-on collision in February outside of Riga coming home after doing some recruiting there.
Catch-up TALLINN -- There's a saying in Estonia. There's really no summer, just three bad months for skiing.
I've been trying to spend as much time as I can in the out-of-doors in the daylight, which is becoming less and less of a problem since we're quickly headed towards white nights territory. Here's a quick photo recap:
The government decided to organize thousands of volunteers to plant trees in May in order to celebrate Estonia's accession to the European Union. Even being the anti-EU curmudgeon I am, I grabbed a bucket of pine trees and a spade, and sported the good Ol' Glory, with some of my admiring bucket brigade.
In all, Estonians have planted more than a million trees this month, in a country that is already 50 percent forest. I was assigned an area about 30 kilometers north-by-northeast of the city of Haapsalu, near the village of Variku. The previous patch of forest had been wiped out by a lightning strike about five years ago. Four hours, and a hundred saplings later, I was given a certificate signed by Prime Minister Juhan Parts thanking me for my services as a fellow "countryman." Heh.
This is the ranger who oversaw our efforts, along with his dog, named "Monica Lewinsky." No joke. After our planting stint, he fed our group of about 15 some delicious stew and dark bread. Well, after planting trees all day, it seemed like the best meal in months.
On our way back to Tallinn, I shot this picture of an abandoned collective farm. Leave the capital, and these dot the Estonian countryside like empty beer cans, giving Estonia a certain post-apocalyptic charm.
No visit to the countryside would be complete without a stop at the beach. Unlike Latvia, which has some very nice sand, Estonian shores generally aren't fit for serious beachcombing. We amused ourselves by pitching rocks at the boulders in the water for 10 Estonian kroons a hit. I came out ahead, so it was officially a good time, in my mind.
The next week, I went over to Helsinki, Finland, for a day to use the university library. It was good to get out of the country for a little bit, although spending money in Helsinki is a case study in sticker shock. For example, I stopped by a McDonald's for a Coke during the lunch hour, and noted that a Big Mac meal will set you back about $8.
I admit over the last couple of years I've developed a Estonian-like loathing for Finns, which, if you live in Tallinn, you regularly encounter in the form of the vodka tourist. Since Finnish taxes on alcohol are so high, the Finns come to Tallinn to stock up, get drunk, rowdy, and puke all over Old Town; basically indulge in the bad public behavior that you wouldn't do in your own country. I guess I know what a Mexican living in Tijuana thinks of Americans.
Since EU accession, it's actually gotten worse, as the 5-liter limit on alcohol has been raised to 30 liters, so you see many Finns with collapsible carts stocking up for serious inebriation. The night of EU accession, every hotel room in Tallinn was booked, a great segment by Finns anticipating the drop in alcohol limits.
The Estonian-Finnish relationship is a complicated one, I think best summarized from the Estonian perspective in this article by Toomas Hendrik Ilves, Estonia's former foreign minister, in the Helsingin Sanomat.
Anyway, spending the day in Helsinki was a good reminder that vodka tourists aren't the majority of Finns, who are, generally, gracious hosts, if standoff-ish in their Finno-Ugric way. Living in Estonia with their cousins, I'm quite used to that. The day I was in town was the national day of celebration of Finnish culture, and I caught a little street theatre by these performers on one of the main streets.
The most interesting thing I've been up to in the last couple of weeks has been tagging along on a documentary film shoot. Two Americans, Jim and Maureen Tusty, are in Estonia this summer, teaching a course as adjuncts at our university. But their primary focus is on shooting a film on Estonia's "Singing Revolution" of 1988-91 that freed it from the Soviet Union. You can click here for a PDF version of one of their movie flyers.
I have experience in television news, but have never seen a film being shot firsthand. So since I have an interest in the medium, as well as Estonian history, I've been tagging along on some of their shoots, which will wrap up with the Estonian song festival on July 1-4.
Sunday we all went to the university city of Tartu for a interview with Marju Lauristin, a professor of journalism at that school. Marju's family history is an amazing one. Her father was a communist who helped establish the Estonian SSR in 1940. He was later arrested and shot for his efforts. In the 1980s, Marju was one of the founders of the Popular Front, one of the groups that helped push Estonia towards independence.
The interview was supposed to last a couple hours, but Marju was a good sport when it turned into nearly four, since she was at every major event of the independence drive in both Estonia and Russia. I'm sure that in the film edit she'll be heavily featured. I felt like I should have gotten course credit for listening in.
I shot this last picture in the back seat of the car on our trip home of two of the film's assistants, Katrin and Anu. Anu looks befuddled because it was dark when my flash went off. Four pictures, and this was the best one.
Summer fun's just begun TALLINN -- Not a lot to post right now; been gone a lot lately, enjoying the warm temperature and the 18-hour daylight. The university's summer session is already two weeks in.
I rode my brand new Schwinn bicycle up the coast about 15 kilometers on Saturday. Sunday I went with a group to plant pine trees as part of Estonia's attempt to plant two million new ones in the month of May. There have been a lot of fires in the last few dry summers, and it's a national project to mark Estonia's entry into the EU. Pictures up when I get them.
I'm heading off to Helsinki for a day on Wednesday after teaching all day tomorrow. More soon, with photos.
While I'm gone, check out one of the most disturbing -- and mesmerizing -- blogs on the Web, Awful Plastic Surgery, which documents in full how entertainers have mutilated themselves lately.
Graduation day TALLINN -- Saturday was don the cap-and-gown day at Concordia University. This year's ceremony was at the Russian Drama Theatre off of Freedom Square, next to the town hall; a beautiful building full of the ornate design and artwork you see a lot of in St. Petersburg.
We had a small graduating group than in year's past; we'll probably have double the number next year. A lot of speeches that basically went: European Union -- new beginning -- graduation -- new start -- yadda yadda. There were FOUR valedictorian speeches from the different schools, incidentally all of them Latvians. One of the valedictorians represented himself and another for our new political science degree. I thought he gave the only memorable address, linking his new wisdom teeth that came in this week to getting his diploma.
For a professor, the day is basically dressing up, following the person in front of you in line, standing up when everybody stands up, and sitting down when everybody sits, getting your picture taken with your graduates and their family. After several of these, I've about got the Estonian national anthem nailed, although I still only understand what half the lyrics are about. We had bad, wooden benches to sit on stage this year, so when all the professors would stand up after an hour of speeches, the entire row would go "ooohhfff" as knees finally got to unlock. I'm afraid that I can't sit on anything like I could 10 years ago.
Here are some photos from the day's festivities. Click on the picture for a bigger view:
Here's our motley band after the graduation ceremony was over. Each flag in the background is hung representing the particular students in the graduating class. You can see the Turkish flag on the far right; we had the wife of the Turkish ambassador to Estonia graduate with an MBA this time around. No Stars and Stripes this year, but that should be corrected next May.
After a six-hour break, the real fun began with the annual graduation party, held this year at a new bar, McCools. The back room was set up for our party, music provided by a band of professors called "Payback," which played a good set of rock n' roll from the past 30 years. Our party had the back room of the bar; the front was full of bunch of Brits having a stag party, but the groups circulated back and forth pretty freely by the end of the night.
When I showed up fashionably late about 9:30, the graduation committee that had been working night and day to make arrangements to set up everything from the party to the diploma printing had already bellied up to the bar, after their own impromptu party at one of their flats:
Here's a couple of our graduating Latvian students. The one on the left, Dita, was the valedictorian for the law department, and has been accepted into the master's law program at Harvard. A woman with prospects:
This is Anna, an Estonian who graduated from the business school a couple years ago, and now runs a media consulting firm in Tallinn:
Here's Kristel, the assistant to the dean of media. She had a reaaaallly good time Saturday night:
I went out to the main room to refill my glass with some liquid refreshment, to find that Kristel had been egged on by the graduating committee for a little bar-top dancing:
Kristel suddenly realized it was one thing to get up on the bar, a totally different thing to get down. No one was hurt, however, and I eventually got my glassed topped off, so it was all good:
Here are a couple of our current students, both Latvians in the political science department, who should graduate next year. Maybe one of them will be the next Vaira Vike-Freiberga. I wouldn't be surprised:
One more shot, of one of our media graduates, and a business graduate. Both said they lined up gainful employment in the last week:
At the end of the night, the graduating students gave their professors their own awards. Since I voted for George W. in 2000 (which makes you about as close to a Martian as one can get in Europe), I was bestowed a "Bushlover" certificate, although I'm wondering if it didn't have other subtext.
Another 100 graduates successfully unleashed on the world. Good times.
TALLINN -- It's now about an hour until Estonia, the Baltic States, and seven other Central and Eastern European countries join the European Union.
There was a small concert given in Freedom Square, and there are already some sporadic fireworks being shot off (including some idiot on my block who just set off every car alarm in a kilometer radius).
There isn't much going on in the way of organized celebrations. There was a small choral concert in Freedom Square in Old Town tonight, and there will be a ceremonial flag-raising tomorrow afternoon. It appears from Estonian television that other capitals had much more extravagant shows.
But, for the most part, I would describe the mood here as one as apprehension. No one really knows what the implications will be for EU membership for Estonia.
As I've written in previous blegs, I wouldn't have supported accession if I had a vote. I see the current EU apparatus as being undemocratic, removing political power and accountability to areas out of Estonians' reach.
But the young people I teach and work with, general are in favor, looking forward to the job, schooling and travel possibilities out of the country. They've adapted well to the post-Soviet environment, much better than their parents and grandparents have. To anyone under 30, this is a move that will broaden their horizons.
It will take years to see whether EU accession is a good thing, but there's no doubt that a line's about to be crossed.
The witching hour approaches TALLINN -- It's about an hour and a half until Estonia joins the European Union. Russia is getting ready:
PSKOV, Russia, Apr 30, BNS - A member of the lower house of the Russian parliament, Alexei Mitrofanov from Vladimir Zhirinovsky's Liberal Democratic Party, has warned residents of this northwestern Russian town about hungry people from new European Union member states Estonia and Latvia.
Prices will dramatically rise in the two Baltic states after their entry into the EU and will in future be three to five times higher than in Pskov, the deputy declared at a press conference in Pskov on Friday.
Because of that, the European comrades will soon feel compelled to visit the Pskov region on Saturdays and Sundays to stock up on sausage for the week ahead, he said.
The lawmaker, who visited the region adjoining the two Baltic states ahead of governor elections, added that the regional authorities are neither politically nor economically prepared for the onslaught, the Pskov news agency PLN reports.
I won't be one of the poor, the tired, the huddled. Honey-nut Cheerios (I've missed you, friend!) arrived in Tallinn a couple weeks ago, and I've been hoarding.
The Baltics' Y2K moment Translation:Purchase panic -- 'Don't forget that left of the TV is salt and right of the TV is sugar.'
TALLINN -- According to Pravda, it's back to the future in Estonia. Apparently, the country's standing in bread lines again in a "Renaissance of the Soviet times".
Well, there is a lot of shopping going on, that's true. The Viru center, or "Viru keskus" has reopened after a year's renovation and a 700 million krooni expansion (about $57 million) that connects it to the Viru hotel outside of old town and the Kaubamaja department store. Food courts, a grocery store, more than 100 shops of all descriptions -- it's as nice as any mall I've ever been in. The place was packed over the weekend (click here to see a pre-opening photo of part of the mall). Not exactly Soviet era.
There has been a run on some staple goods in Estonia and Latvia the last couple weeks. A new Baltic Russian-language channel, Pervyj Baltijskij kanal, out of Latvia, reported in a news segment that some goods, like sugar and the rock salt that Balts use for canning mushrooms and such, will be many times their current price if available at all.
It's not true. Commodity people report in the news that the price of salt is supposed to drop after EU accession on May 1. The price of sugar might go up a couple of kroons (maybe 10 cents a bag) due to the mechanations of EU subsities. But there are no shortages.
There was some early hording due to the rumor, though, but as the cartoon above shows, the meme has moved into the joke category.
The grocery stores are playing it up as well in a bid to move product. I decided to do my heavy shopping at City Market near Tallinn's port to avoid the Viru Keskus crowds, and found this stall of staple goods, like potatoes, salt, sugar and rice. The sign over the table reads "Eurofever!"
UPDATE: Tall Blond comments on her April 17th entry. She didn't find the sign as funny as I did.
TALLINN -- Estonians, Latvians, Lithuanians, Russians, and a Swede thrown in there somewhere ... this is my Introduction to Mass Media course at Concordia University just before today's final.
Topics for the exam -- radio and television development, media ethics, public relations and propaganda, and media economics, as well as an essay question related to Thomas Friedman's "The Lexus and the Olive Tree: Understanding Globalization". We covered communication theory and newspapers in the first half of the semester.
I insisted on this group photo before the exam -- I'll bring it out when they graduate in a few years and see how they've changed.
The best thing about teaching freshman is they're good listeners, and not jaded enough to think they know it all. The worst thing about them is they can be gullible, which from my point of view, is also a good thing:
Student: "Professor, how much time do we have left for the final?" Me: (looks at watch) "Oh, about seven minutes." Class: "Ohhhha!" (mass scramble through the exam) Me: "No, that was a joke. You still have an hour and 10 minutes." Class: "Grrrr ...."
Posting will probably be light this week as I figure out which of these flowers of Baltic youth I need to fail.
