The museum was founded in 1993 with a mission to educate the public about the 51 years of occupation during the 20th Century by the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic, (1940-1940 and again from 1944-1991) and Nazi Germany (1941-1944) It is located in Rīga in a building once known as The Corner House, the former KGB Headquarters. It took ten years to renovate the old KGB building..
I copied the following notice and photos from a Facebook post by the Museum of the Occupation. of Latvia. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about the timing of the attack. The parenthetical comment is mine. The translation from Latvian is by Google Translate.
Turning against the Latvian Occupation Museum is turning against the Latvian state
on the night of February 28 around 1:00 a.m. On the first floor of the building of the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia, a window in the office of the director was broken and a lit bottle of incendiary mixture (aka Molotov cocktail) was thrown.
This is not only an attack on the Museum, but also on the foundations of the Latvian state, the Constitution, and the truth.
The museum continues its work!
To learn more about the museum, I have included a link to a Wikipedia article.
This is a message that I copied from a Facebook private message post. It was shared with me by a Latvian friend who is friends with this lady, Maija.
On Saturday my cousin called from Latvia and asked that we, here in the USA, write letters to House Republicans, former President Trump, and anyone else in a position to help, and ask for the continued support for Ukraine. Because if Ukraine falls, so will our Baltic states. My relative was formerly the Minister of the Interior of Latvia, a general in the Latvian Armed Forces, and a law professor. To hear him saying that he fears for the future of our Baltic countries and asking for the help of as many Americans as possible made my blood run cold. He has always been positive and upbeat, but not now. There is great fear in our Baltic states of once again being taken over by Russia and destroying our lands and people. We only have to look Ukraine to see the future destruction in Europe if Putin is allowed to continue unabated. I ask you to spread the word among all you know and write letters in hopes of making a difference in the current lack of support from the USA government. I ask you to reach out as far and wide as possible. The situation is very serious in the lands of our birth, our parents or our ancestors is in deep crisis.
Maija
Latvia was part of the Russian Empire for two hundred years. Between the end of World War I and World War II it had 20 years of freedom. The Soviet Amry invaded during the Second WorldWar. Forty-five years of oppression followed.
Latvians in their homeland and Latvians of the diaspora all over the world fear that Russia will invade again.Who, if anyone is going to stop them? If the United States allows Ukraine to fall, Latvia and the other Baltic States will fall, too. President Biden has vowed to help but the Republicans in Congress are digging in their heels.
Par of Latvia’s struggle for freedom.
Soviet tanks in Riga. January 1991. Will it happen again? The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics may be gone but Putin’s voracious appetite for power is not.
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In the Northern Hemisphere, the 21st of December (this year) is the day when the sun begins its long journey north. It’s the shortest day of the year and the longest night. Almost imperceptibly at first, the days grow longer. It’s the triumph of light over darkness.
The Latvian sun symbol. There are many variations.
The return of the sun is greeted with many rituals in Latvia and the other Baltic States,, Estonia and Lithuania. The people of these countries were the last pagans of Europe. They weren’t Christianized until the early 13th Century. Pagan traditions and beliefs remain strong. Not everyone is willing to admit this fact.
In the following video the group, Tautumeitas presents a modern version of the ancient tradition of masking and using the power word Kaladu to help light overcome darkness. I was unable to find a fitting translation of the word Kaladu.
The sun goddess, Saule, ensures the fertility of the earth, represented by grains and grasses. Like the Summer Solstice, the Winter Solstice is a fire festival.
My heart breaks for the many refugees in the world today. Like the poor, it seems that refugees will always be with us. Despite what the Bible says, too many people who claim to believe the directives in the Bible don’t want to take in refugees.
Wandering like ghosts.
It’s decades since my parents and I were refugees from the Soviet invasion of Latvia. Such refugees were known as Displaced Persons. Latvians called themselves “DeePees.” My initials. I’m a refugee of sorts again. Forced from my home because, like so many people all over the country today, I couldn’t afford to pay my rent. I’m fortunate enough to have been taken in, to have a roof over my head and food to eat. For which I am eternally grateful. That’s not the case for everyone.
I thought of this topic because I found a verse by a Latvian poet along with my translation. This is the time of spirits in Latvia and many other countries. This seemed like as good a time as any to write this post. Officially, the International Day of Refugees is June 20 but for too many people, every day is Refugee Day. This is also a time of Thanksgiving. A time to be grateful that we have homes and sustenance. It’s a time of sharing. So, I’m sharing one of the few things I have to share–this post and this poem.
Even if it’s not a physical fire that destroys a home, it feels like it.
“Refugee”
Behind me, the road fades into darkness,
my home burns, the bridge collapses
And all we the living become ghosts.
Like a wind-driven grain of sand
I drift through foreign lands
without work, without rest, without kin.
,,Bēglis”
Aiz manis tumsā zūd ceļi,
deg mājas, un sagrūst tilts.
un visi dzīvie kļūst veļi.
Kā vēju vajāta smilts
es klīstu pa svešām vietām
bez darba, dusas un cilts.
_Velta Toma (1944)
1944 is the year Estonians, Latvians, Lithuanians, and many others in that part of Europe became refugees because of the Russian invasion of their country.
When the bridge is destroyed and you can’t go home, a new bridge must be built.
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I’ve been so obsessed with my own concerns, such as where I’ll live after August 31, that I forgot about the anniversary of The Baltic Way until a social media post reminded me.
On August 23, 1989, at 7 p.m. approximately two million people in the Baltic States joined hands to form a human chain that reached from Vilnius, Lithuania, through Riga, Latvia, to Tallinn, Estonia. A 675m (420 mi) long chain to bring the world’s attention to the 50th anniversary of the Molotov-Ribbentrop a non-aggression treaty between the Germans and the Soviets. A pact that violated international law. An agreement that also divided Finland, Poland, and Romania. Because of the pact, Germany could start WW2 on September 1 and allowed the Soviet Union to invade the Baltic States and occupy them for more than the next fifty years.
A few links in the Human chain.Peaceful, unarmed individuals, including children.
We take so much for granted in the United States and the rest of the Free World that we may allow freedom and democracy to slip through our fingers. People prattle on about Nazis, Communists, and Fascists without knowing what those words mean. People who have no idea what real oppression is. And others who think that not voting is a good way to protest against candidates they don’t like or are simply too lazy to get out and vote and then complain about their lousy lawmakers who got elected. How did that happen? It’s an insult to those who have suffered under these repressive regimes.
My cousins, who live in Riga were there. They had to drive nearly 30 km (18 mi) to find a place to park. I wish I could have been there. I might have cowered in fear when the plane flew overhead, expecting to be strafed at any moment but it was just recording the event.
It was also known as The Singing Revolution. Flowers and songs, not guns.
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(Yes, this is a repost from last year. My post, “Lights Out!” explains why I’ve been distracted. The only thing that has changed is that more and more Latvian communities are participating in White Tablecloth Day)
(Thank you to my friend for allowing me to use her photos. She prefers to remain anonymous. You know who you are)
On May 4th, 1990 the Supreme Council of the Latvian SSR adopted a resolution “On the Restoration of the Independence of the Republic of Latvia”, turning a new white page in the history of Latvia. The White Tablecloth Festival celebrates the anniversary of Latvia’s renewed independence after decades under Soviet rule.
A clean new page is understandable but why a white tablecloth? The cloth was chosen as a symbol of national pride, unity, and self-confidence. On feast days tables are traditionally set with a white linen tablecloth. Latvian friends, neighbors, and families all over the world, those in Latvia and the Latvians of the Diaspora in their adopted homelands are encouraged to gather together as one family to celebrate Latvia’s renewed independence with reverence and joy.
The white tablecloth also symbolizes that Latvia’s break with the Soviet Union was achieved relatively peacefully through diplomacy with the occupying power.
Except for social media I’ve been out of touch with my local Latvian community. I’m not even sure if they’ve adopted the White Tablecloth Festival. I learned about it just the other day when a friend in Ohio shared photos of her Latvian community’s celebration of this anniversary.
It’s about time more attention was paid to this important holiday which usually gets little notice compared to Latvia’s original Independence Day. November 18th has been celebrated by Latvian exiles in their new countries. During the years of Soviet occupation, such a celebration was illegal in Latvia.
Buffet at the Latvian Center in Cleveland.
Whenever Latvians gather to celebrate there is always lots of food. On this special occasion in Cleveland, there were also speeches (hardly a unique occurrence) recitations of poetry, shared memories, and stories about what it means to be a Latvian. They also saw a video about the dedication of a monument to a Latvian freedom activist who died shortly before renewed independence became a reality.
Intricate drawnwork (Dresden work) embroidery.
The day before the party participants were invited to bring heirloom tablecloths that were handmade by their mothers and grandmothers to be displayed on the walls of the Latvian Center.
Crewel embroidery on a linen tablecloth.Textile works of art. Some might even have been brought along when fleeing from the Soviet invasion of Latvia in 1944.
Of course, human nature being what it is, especially Latvian human nature, not everyone is eager to embrace the White Tablecloth Festival. Some people think it’s silly because white tablecloths are used for every celebration that involves feasting (all of them) Others prefer the name Renewal of Independence Day. I think White Tablecloth Festival is more of an attention grabber.
Glory to Latvia!
Whatever it’s called, May 4th is a day to celebrate the restorations of freedom.
As we celebrate we are all hoping that there will soon be a day for Ukraine to celebrate renewed peace and freedom.
Glory to Ukraine!
To clarify any misunderstanding. I am not collecting money for Ukraine. I prefer to leave that to long-established and respected organizations such as CARE, Save the Children, World Central Kitchen, Doctors Without Borders, and other charities. These donations are compensation for me for my work on the blog, researching, writing, editing, and illustrating. I apologize for not making this clear.
Illustration by Jēkabs Bīne (1895 – 1955) To me he looks a bit like Attila the Hun. The back-to-back E is one of Ūsiņš symbols. He and his horses are the bingers of the sun
You would expect that the day honoring the god of spring would be the equinox on March 20th. However, Ūsiņa diena (Ūsiņš day) is celebrated on April 23. I don’t know the reason for this discrepancy. So, I’m not late in writing about this deity.
Paradoxically, Ūsiņš Day is considered to be the beginning of summer.
In Latvia, spring is known as the blossoming time (ziedonis, also used as a man’s name)
Ūsiņš, in Latvian mythology, is the god of light, spring, bees, and horses, as well as the god of spring. He brings green grass to fields and new green leaves to trees.
In Latgale province Ūsiņ Day, traditions continued into the beginning of the 20th century, while in Kurzeme and Zemgale it died out in the second half of the 19th century.
Ūsiņš Day was the first day of the season that horses were turned out to pasture. It was an ancient tradition for the young men of the homestead to go sleep in the pasture to protect the horses from both wolves and thieves. In order to keep warm, the horse herders built fires and slept by them on pine boughs or sacks of straw brought from home. Since they were Latvians, they also sang many songs. In case of rain, they built little huts out of branches. Horse pasturing could continue to Martiņ diena (Martin Day) when Ūsiņš became Martin, the god of autumn and still was the god of horses.
Ūsiņšwas the protector of horses.
The most important of Ūsiņš Day symbols is a colt. The symbolism can be interpreted in several ways–as the power of the deity, human energy, and vitality, and as a phallic symbol of generative vitality.
A yellow horse represents the energy of the sun.
This is also a horse market day when horses are bought and sold.
I’ve always loved horses so this is a good excuse to search out and include pictures of them.
Scholars don’t agree as to the origins of the name Ūsiņš. Some argue that the name comes from the German husing, a.k.a. spirit of the home. Perhaps from the Russian word усень that Google translated as fall without specifying whether it was a noun or a verb. Others claim that the name derives from the Egyptian god, Osiris, or from the Sanskrit ŪŠA, which means dawn.
One thing I can tell you is that the Wiki translation of Ūsiņš to English does not mean “whiskers.” It’s an understandable, albeit silly mistake. The Latvian word for mustache is ūsas. Similar, but not the same. Why would anyone think the god of spring and light would be called “whiskers”?
Ūsiņš Dayis the first day of the plowing season.
To ensure the fertility of his fields the farmer gets up early and plows the first furrow before dawn, while naked. (is all of Latvian mythology about sex? It was an agrarian society so of course it was) It’s important not to look back as he plows (maybe so his wife won’t distract him)
The first furrow must be plowed in the middle of the field. After the first three furrows are plowed it’s time for a special holiday meal, which includes eggs (!) In the evening of Ūsiņš Day, the farmer shares his holiday evening meal with the horse herders out in the pasture.
A sleepover with horses. It’s also a day for horsing around. The day is supposed to be greeted with noise like thunder,
Ūsiņš Day, a day for green. Your donation in support of my work would be greatly appreciated. Thank you!
Māra by Ansis Cīrulis, 1883 – 1942 The goddess is referred to as Dear Māra or Beloved Māra.
Many of the ancient deities were female.
At the top of the hierarchy was a trinity of deities, two of whom were female. Dievs, the male, was the top-ranking deity, the father of the world. Laima, the goddess of fate was one of the three. Māte (Mother) Māra is considered to be the feminine side of Dievs, the mother of the material world. She and Dievs are like yin and yang. Latvia is known as Māras zeme (Māra’s land) The other, minor goddesses are Māra’s assistants or different aspects of her being.
The River Gauja is the longest Latvian river. It flows only within Latvija’s territory and so can be considered a symbol representing all of Latvia.Māra is also the mother of waters, the sea mother.
Māra is the protector of women, childbirth, and children who are considered to be gifts from the goddess. She is the giver and taker of life. At death, she takes the person’s body, while Dievs take the soul. However, she does not determine the length of a person’s life, that is up to Laima. One of Māra’s many aspects is Veļu Māte, the goddess of the underworld, and mother of spirits. Different facets of her personality are mother and protector of cattle, mother of milk, mother earth, mother of the people, forest mother, mother of fields, and mother of flax. She encourages cows to give rich, creamy, abundant milk.
Since cows give milk it makes sense that the mother of milk would also be the mother of cattle.
In Latvian folk songs, dainas, Māra is depicted as doing women’s work–grinding grain, milking cows, or churning butter.
All the animals that are sacred to her are black–hen, toad, grass snake (a harmless creature), viper, and beetle. She can turn herself into any of them. All are associated with the realm of the dead. She is associated with the serpent cult, the chthonic fertility deity.
Mārais depicted as wearing green or gold garments sitting in a willow, by a spring, or on a rock i the middle of a brook.
Māra’s cross, also known as the cross of crosses, is the symbol of completeness, for the home, and fire. It is sometimes drawn on loaves of bread and carved into sacrificial rocks and on fireplaces.
One of Māra’ssymbols.
Some scholars argue that the name Māra derives from the name Maria, a version of the name Mary. They take it to mean that she is the same being as Mary the Mother of the Christian God. However, she could just as easily be the Hindu goddess of death, who is also called Mara or Mata. The similarity of names shows the Indo-European roots of the Latvian language and culture, both much older than Christianity.
Another of Māra’s symbols represents the earth and her role as the earth’s mother.
It’s important to have this particular symbol of Māra at weddings to ensure the couple’s fertility.
The horizontal line of the triangle symbolizes the earth. The other two lines point to the direction where the sun rises (NE) and sets (NW) at the summer solstice. Māra’s many symbols include a simple horizontal line which represents the earth and a zigzag which symbolizes rivers.
When Māras triangle is unified with Dievs triangle, which is turned the other way, they represent balance and harmony.
Māras various symbols are used in arts and crafts of different kinds, weavings, ceramics, wood, and leather work.
Māra, Mārīte, and Mārīta are popular women’s given names. Māras Name Day is March 25th.
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The title of the book is Kriksis Trimdā in English Kriksis in Exile. My latest read.
Some of my followers are Latvians but probably many of them don’t speak, let alone read Latvian so why should they or anyone who is not Latvian care about a Latvian children’s book? Hopefully, my post will prompt people, no matter what their language to pick up old childhood favorites and read it again. Or perhaps to get a children’s book they never got around to reading.
Many adults turn up their noses at the prospect of reading a children’s book. Not me. I read Charlotte’s Web as an adult because students in my college English class raved about it. When I read the book, I understood why people of every age love it. I also read The Wind in the Willows when I was all grown up and every one of the Harry Potter books. Good writing is good writing, no matter who it’s meant for.
The water rat is right, “There is nothing–absolutely nothing–half so much worth doing as messing about in boats.”(The Wind in the Willows)
What prompted me to pick up my old book was disappointment with some of the books for adults that I’ve read lately. Books with holes in the logic of the plot. Books with way too much detail. A book that included the description of a character’s digestive issue. It was boring even before it got to that point. Books with cardboard characters. Redundancies. The last one I really liked was a book I re-read before last Christmas, Abide With Me by Elizabeth Strout that’s about a widowed small-town minister.
The exiled dog and his boy enchant me as much now as they did when my father and I took turns reading chapters to each other when I was in elementary school.
Lassie: “Tommy’s in the well!” Lassie alerts the family.
Kriksis: Tomiņš (Tommy) has been captured by Russian soldiers. Kriksis to the resscue.
Was Tommy in the well a real episode? I don’t remember.
If Kriksis in Exile were in English it would probably give some people a heart attack and get banned. I don’t remember being traumatized by it even though my family and I were exiles. I’d probably already been traumatized by overhearing the stories of their and their friends’ experiences during the Second World War. When someone, like my parents, who were refugees in Germany, survives the bombing of Berlin, you have a different perspective of reality.
The first chapter shows forest animals, all of them friends of Kriksis, struggling to define war. War is terrible noise. War is fire falling from the sky. War destroys mole’s house. They wonder, should they hide deep in the ground anyway? Can war follow them into the ground? Owl has seen war and tells about it to Raven who explains it to the other animals. War is humans fighting each other. Firing guns the size of logs. Flying machines with wings as long as trees are tall, dropping huge bullets on everyone. War is Russians trying to steal land that doesn’t belong to them.
Where is Kriksis the animals wonder? He is smarter than all the rest of them put together. He is not just their friend, he is their hero. He will know what to do. The forest is on fire and Kriksis rescues many of his friends by carrying them on his back as he swims a river. All the animals speak the same language. A language that a boy can understand but adults can’t.
It’s not until much later in the book, after many adventures, that Kriksis, having lost his family. who fled the war, meets Tomiņš who has also lost his family, not to death but to exile.
How is it that a child of exiles can find such a book enchanting? Maybe because of the stalwart dog and his loyalty to friends, both the other animal and the boy. Because of the dog’s intelligence and ingenuity. Because of Tomiņš and Kriksis motto, “We are not ones to be afraid. that helps them survive the perils of war and exile. There’s also the charm of dog and boy understanding each other so well.
I don’t remember how old I was when my father and I read about Kriksis and Tomiņš maybe eight or nine. Unlike with a couple of other books, we read it cover to cover. One book we never finished was a Latvian book called Legends of Christ. Once we got to Maundy Thursday. I refused to read more. I knew what would happen on Good Friday and did not want to read about it. No way could I be persuaded to continue.
Despite the subjects, war, and exile, there is no graphic violence in Kriksis in Eixle but when the boy and dog wind up as exiles in Germany they see buildings with shattered windows, buildings with no roof, and piles of rubble in the street. On their journey, they experience hunger and sleeplessness. Somehow, I survived hearing about all that.
From a book of wonder tales by the author of Kriksis in Exile.
When I finish reading, Kriksis in Exile, I think I’ll read some of my other Latvian books. It’s gratifying to know I can read my native language more smoothly than I expected. There were only a couple of words I didn’t recognize. And I was reminded of the charms of the Latvian language with all its declensions, conjugations, and terms of endearment.
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It’s apparently a French thing, too. Peter Mayle wrote in his bestselling book, A Year in Provence, that he and his wife closed the deal for the house they were purchasing over a five-hour lunch. It was probably such a short lunch because it was a business lunch. No doubt it’s an Italian thing, too.. Possibly this sort of lunch happens in all of Europe and maybe even South America.
One of my dear friends, a half-Latvian professor of music, is spending part of his sabbatical in Latvia studying the music of an ancient regional culture. This isn’t his first trip to Latvia so he has had the opportunity to make friends. He has also discovered the joys of the seven-hour lunch.
Beer and friends.
When I was in Latvia during the Soviet years of glasnost (openness) I also experienced the seven-hour lunch. Or, it might have been ten hours. I lost track. Hours at the table were nothing new to me. That’s how it was when my parents’ generation threw parties but then it was mostly in the evening. Mostly. Mostly. Often, when the fun times were too good to end a few friends were invited to return the next morning, or afternoon, (depending on how long the previous night’s party lasted) to help finish off the leftovers. The main dish then was meat-filled pancakes called kommorgenwieder derived from the German phrase komm morgen wieder, come again tomorrow.
For me there was no returning the in the morning. I was going home the next day.
Latvians make a tidy little bundle with both ends tucked under.
A vivid memory from my childhood was a celebration at our Latvian next door neighbor’s house. The wife had been a signer with Latvia’s National Opera. She led the guests in a lusty song. It’s sad that there was no such singing at this party. Either my relatives had forgotten the words to our ancient folksongs or the prevailing atmosphere dampened their enthusiasm for singing. On a previous visit to Gaida’s home, I sang a couple of folk songs to her little boys. Songs I had known since I was a little girl. Songs they should have known, but didn’t.
How did that long, leisurely lunch get started? My cousin, my father’s niece, Gaida (guy-dah) who at the time had an apartment in Rīga invited me and the Rīga rellies, including the ones on my mother’s side of the family to lunch at one in the afternoon. We talked, ate, and drank. Repeat. Repeat. Even though it was a time of privation more food and drink kept appearing on the table.
Only a fraction of my tribe. The ones on my father’s side of the family are missing.
At four, I was supposed to meet my mother’s younger brother and his son. They were driving in from her hometown Limbaži, which is about 54 miles (87 km) from the capital. We were to meet at the park across the street from my hotel. That was no reason to break up the party. My cousin, Guntis (soft U, uh), my father’s nephew went to pick them up and brought them over. They’d already me the Rīga crew when they all gathered at my hotel on the night I arrived.
Traditional Latvian black rye bread. I was disappointed that at the time they didn’t have any in Rīga. I had to go back to the USA to be able to get it.
What do you talk about at a seven-hour lunch? We talked about family, of course. The ones in Latvia, the ones in America, even the ones in Australia. But even though my mother had a large family, her grandfather was married three times, anecdotes about the family wouldn’t have taken up so many hours. One of my mother’s cousins, a professor at the University of Latvia gave a welcoming table speech to me. I don’t remember what he said, but I get misty just thinking about it. Latvians tend to give long speeches. Over the years I’ve been bored by too many of them. Pavils’ speech wasn’t very long but from the heart. I surprised myself by asking Guntis to give a speech from my father’s side of the family. I don’t remember what he said, either. Same reaction on my part.
Other than the abundance of food, I don’t remember what we ate. What sticks in my mind is a liqueur that tasted like minty mouthwash. It showed up when the other booze started running low. I confess, I never in my life drank as much nor stay as sober as I did while in Latvia. Adrenaline must counteract the effects of alcohol. Even though I felt comfortable and at home in Latvia, like the rest of us in that tour group from the West, I was constantly aware of the possibility of being followed by a KGB agent. Less for myself that my relatives.
The night of that long lunch was the only time I was drunk. It must have been the minty mouthwash liqueur. Guntis drove me, my uncle, and my cousin back to my hotel where they’d left their car. I remember bawling on my uncle’s shoulder, knowing I would never experience anything like that in my life again.
We had vodka but not Stoli. It has becomean international brand. It might have been been available in stores where only tourists were allowed to shop. Stores where only western currencies were accepted.
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