RIGA, Latvia

RIGA, LATVIA

A small town - but the largest city in Latvia. The Baltic countries are amazingly beautiful - the Baltics include the countries of Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia. All of these countries were once part of the USSR before the Berlin Wall fall and the Iron Curtain was lifted. The landscape is amazing – each country has approximately 40 % forest – everything is very green – and there is evidence that autumn has arrived with cold wind, sun and stark temperatures, and colorful leaves. The stylish Europeans are out – scarves, high boots, gloves, and hats… I am envious that I am living out of a small carryon bag with no room for anything except my American t-shirts and 2 pairs of jeans.
The biggest surprise that I have encountered is the tragedies and experiences of the Baltic people. Each country was formerly occupied by Russia and the atrocities, genocide, death, and destruction resulting from Russian occupation leaves a very serious mark. Old soviet style block buildings sit amidst newer sky scrapers. Square, concrete, dark… many in desperate need of repair. In Lithuania and Latvia the architecture rivals that of Prague. Art Noveau is the theme – think old Victorian houses in San Francisco but better. Lion heads, Greek Gods and varying shades of pink, purple, orange, brown, and grey line the streets. Trollies from the 1950’s line the streets and it seems that every town has an old KGB headquarters. Riga was no different – but they had even more… Riga is home to the Museum of occupation - giving a detailed account of what Russia has left behind.
I remember on my first trip to Europe when I visited the old German concentration camp Dachau…. Hundred of thousands of people died here in the furnaces and gas chambers. You enter the camp through the original iron gate that every prisoner and victim of the holocaust passed through… the words “Albiet Mach Frei’ – work will set you free – coldly incscribed in in Iron stare you in the face. As you enter the museum of occupation you are met with a similar feeling. Your stomach coming up through your throat – detailed accounts of people being loaded into train cars… shipped off to work camps and never being seen again. The uniforms worn by the people of Jewish faith… the infamous star… you ticket to death, pain, suffering, and difference. The thing that strikes me most is that these atrocities are not much older than 50 years… Neither are civil rights in the USA. Try that on for size…
Anytime you travel I think you cannot help but think about stereotypes or compare. It is so interesting when people tell me that I am not like other Americans. How so… I find it comical that we have a preconceived notion about someone – before they even open their mouths. And how often are those preconceived ideologies true. How are they formed? How are they broken… how are they reformed?