Latvia's Friend

Latvia’s Favorite Knitter: Jette Užane (1924-2007)

2007-07-22T23:47:00.001-04:00

When she died in March, Jette Užāne received obituaries befitting a revered author or musician in Riga’s largest newspapers. Instead she was a severely handicapped farmwoman with no formal education. Several years ago, when I asked Latvian friends in Riga about their traditional folk mittens, they repeatedly said, “The best ones are made by Cimdu Jettiņa.” This is an affectionate name (using the diminutive form). “Little Jette of the mittens” might be a literal translation.

Jette Užāne rarely left the farmstead her parents built in the 1920s in the Dzerbene district of the Vidzeme countryside (northeastern Latvia). Like all good Latvian farmsteads, it had a name: Lejnieki (place down in the valley). Jette was born in 1924 during the first independence period for Latvia (1920-40). She was the second of six children.

Her grandmother noticed that the 4-year-old was bending over holding her arms stiffly at her side. She was eventually taken to a specialist in Riga who diagnosed tuberculosis of the spine (I believe it's called Pott’s disease). Jette spent two years at the sanitarium at Krimulda. After returning home, she fell ill again after having been to school only twice. Within a few days she couldn’t move anything but her fingers and was taken back to Krimulda. This time she stayed at the sanitarium until she was 12 years old. She was taught reading, writing, and basic sewing skills.

Back home, confined to a wheelchair, Jette was given yarn and knitting needles and shown how to cast on and turn a heel by her mother, who said, “Why are you sitting here without working? Knit something; the other children have bare feet.” After many pairs of socks, Jette turned out her first pair of mitten at age 13. Soon it only took her a day to knit a pair and she began knitting for everyone in the family as well as mending their clothes.

Jette tells this story about the colorful pair of mitten she made for her grandmother, expecting her praise: "I asked, 'Well, aren't they beautiful?' Grandmother answered, 'They are not yet beautiful, daughter. They are colorful.' With a trembling voice through my tears, I asked, 'Lukstinmate, what do the mittens need to make them beautiful?' Grandmother answered, 'Beautiful, daughter, is only black, white, and gray.'"

But Jette kept her passion for colors and her talent was soon recognized. She was quite expert at replicating ethnographic designs, sometimes varying colors. At the end of the 1940s, Jette’s mittens appeared at shows in Riga and Moscow. She knit a series of dolls in folk costumes, and in 1960 she was awards the Soviet honor Master of People’s Handicrafts.

Jette’s siblings moved away—her sister Velta went to Canada and her brothers married and had their own families. After her parents died, Jette remained on the farm living by herself. It was only in the 1980s that she began experimenting with her own designs. Because of radio, television, books and other reading material, she still felt a part of the outside world.

In the 1970s she created her first mitten cycle. It was called Gadalaiki (Seasons of the Year) and she created a pair of mittens for each month, which had a tone and ornamentation that was coordinated with the other months in that season [July and September are shown right]. Although the surface designs on the mittens look embroidered, she knit everything—limited by the yarn that was available to her.

Other mitten cycles followed: trees [see here frost on the poplars above), flowers, Latvian folk symbols, characters from the national epic, Lačplēšis, the bear-slayer [see here Spidola at right, which Jette claims to have unraveled 5 times before she got it right], family members (father is below) , fairy tales [blue is at the end of the posting]—and even copies of paintings by her favorite Latvian artists (such as the spring thaw scene by Purvitis, painting and mittens can be compared here).

In 1988, on the eve of Latvia’s second independence, Jette knit mittens called “perestroika,” “Popular Front,” and “Three Stars”. In fact, she was to receive the Three Stars medal herself from President Guntis Ulmanis in 1995.

During the 1990s, many excursion groups came to Jette’s home to see her mittens and bring her yarn, books, and flowers. In later life, Jette was no longer able to sit up and knitting became nearly impossible. Before her death at age 83, several of the museums in Riga have exhibited some of her mittens .

In a book about her (Preses Nams, 1997), the interviewer asked her to explain her approach to knitting as a creative art. She said, “I soon lost interest in following the strict geometrical patterns of traditional Latvian ethnographic designs and wanted to make something more complicated and original. When knitting those designs I was only moving my fingers. I couldn’t knot myself into the designs. Some knitters are satisfied with repeating these patterns correctly, and they are numerous. But I took on my own designs as a responsibility. It gave me satisfaction to first find the right colors, go to sleep with incomplete thoughts and wake up (usually around 4 am) with solutions, It was a way to escape my troubles.”

The Ethnographic Museum, which we will be visiting, next weekend, has a number of Jette’s mittens in its collection. I've asked that we be given a special showing of them.

Last posting--see you Saturday!

Riga Featured in Sunday Travel Section

2007-07-22T16:54:00.001-04:00

In case you didn't realize what an "in" place you are going to, check out the front page of the Washington Post travel section for today (Sunday, July 22). It is summarized at the Post website along with 4 rather strange photos of 1) a street in Vecriga, 2) the Russian Orthodox church, 3) a woman wearing a strange hood and lighting a candle (huh?), and 4) the Baltic sea coast (possibly somewhere in Jurmala, which we will be visiting next Monday).

Ideas for Gifts to Buy In Latvia

2007-07-20T16:47:00.000-04:00

Since I wrote that posting about money several months ago, the U.S. dollar has gotten a little weaker. Today it is worth 0.508 of a Latvian lat. One lat is worth nearly 2 US dollars is an easy way to figure prices. Still, there are many nice and reasonably priced gifts to pick up in Riga and an abundance of shops and outdoor vendors to purchase them from. Some are closed on Sunday, but not all. The Ethnographic Museum, which we will visit Sunday morning, has a gift shop with reasonable prices, as does Lido Atpūtas Centrs, where we will have dinner. And everything will be open Monday. I’m preparing a list of some of the nicest shops to bring in case you’d like to refer to it (as well as some restaurants and museums).

What are some possible gifts?

Amber jewelry is a special favorite. It comes in various qualities (polished or rough) and colors (from almost white to dark brown, but most commonly it’s honey-colored). Amberison, an online jewelry shop, proved some ideas about how to tell the difference between genuine and artificial (plastic). In the Art Nouveau district, check out Ambra at 7 Alberta iela.

Linen from Latvian flax has been produced for centuries. It is much cheaper here than elsewhere in Europe. Shops carry tablecloths, placemats, napkins, pillow covers, bed linen, women’s clothing, and more. (Garage in Berga Bazārs even has a special linen room.)

Wooden objects and toys – Local craftsmen turn out all sorts of appealing items. My favorite shop that has gifts made in the Latvian countryside is Koka Varde (Wooden Frog) at 31 Lāčplēša, a few blocks above our hotel.

Leather goods – Wallets, address books, boxes, book cover, etc.

Colorful knitted items – Sweaters, mittens, gloves, hats, headbands. My favorite source for Latvian mittens is Tīne, an outdoor stand in the courtyard of the Small Guildhall in Vecriga, which has some of the nicest at better prices than the shops. (There is also another shop called Tīne at 2 Valņu, which has a huge selection of many kinds of gifts on two floors, but it is not as inexpensive as the outdoor version. (Incidentally, in Latvian tīne is a box where you keep your needlework.

Art Nouveau souvenirs – Silk scarves, ceramics, books, copies of some of the faces on the building façades (see earlier posting about Art Nouveau buildings). A shop at 9 Strēlnieku specializes in these souvenirs.

Riga Black Balsam – Since the late 18^th century, this dark beverage has been considered an elixir by the Latvians. It’s made from a secret recipe and contains 24 different infusions of roots, foliage, blossoms, and buds. A website created for last fall’s NATO Summit provides more details.

Silver jewelry – Some really nicely designed rings, necklaces, and bracelets—both Latvian folk designs and modern—are available in many shops.

Collectibles – Antique shops carry icons, coins, books and Soviet memorabilia, such as military medals and busts of Lenin.

Christmas tree ornaments – I forgot to tell you that Riga claims to have had the very first Christmas tree (eglitis) in 1510. A number of craftspeople make charming little tree ornaments from natural materials (such as acorns, birch bark, and reeds). Two of them should be at the Ethnographic Museum on Sunday—I can show you where to find them.

What Should I Bring?

2007-07-18T10:55:00.000-04:00

Let’s see, what to pack? Have you been wondering if the weather will be hot, cold, sunny or rainy in northern Europe at the end of July? The answer is “Yes.” It could be all of the above. You’d better prepare for layers to add and remove. When I was in Riga at the end of May, it was practically tropical. It was sunny in the morning, rained in the mid-afternoon, and then got up into the 80s and humid by evening.

My sources in Riga tell me that most of July has not been nearly as warm as May was. Last week the average high was 68 and it rained on three days and was cloudy the rest of the time. Today (Tuesday, July 17), however, the high was 84, but it felt like 88 because of the humidity. Some sunny days are in the forecast for most of the week with average highs around 70. There is hope.

Norway hasn’t been faring any better. Both Oslo and Bergen have been rainy and a bit cooler than Riga. I’ve heard from Arnhild, who has been up in Tromsø (500 miles north of the Arctic Circle). She’s been having 24 hours of sunshine every day and says it’s been the best weather in Norway. This evening (Tuesday) she returns to Oslo, and I guess we’ll have to watch and see if she brought some rays with her. In case you’d like to check on Riga, Bergen, Oslo—any other international cities in Fahrenheit as well as Celsius, I’ve linked this posting to the Weather Network.

The Seven Sleepers: Latvia’s Ground Hog Day

To predict the weather for our stay in Riga, we may have to rely on the special rain prognostication date of Friday, July 27 (the day before our tour begins). It is called Septiņu Gulētāju Diena (Feast Day of the Seven Sleepers). According to legend, if it rains then, it will rain for the next 7 days and/or the next 7 weeks. (Although, like all good legends, there are variations in the forecast. That rare Latvian, the optimist A. Zālīte, claims if the sun shines on July 27, then it will shine for 7 days.)

After a Latvian told me about this folk belief, I had to go online in search of an explanation (since my husband the historian was clueless): Who were these 7 Sleepers? The web did not disappoint. It took me to Wikipedia, Wilson’s Almanac, and even The Catholic Encyclopedia where I learned about the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus. Yes, the legend concerns seven young Christian men (once saints but downgraded to martyrs in recent times), Ephesians from Asia Minor (modern Turkey), who were walled up in a cave by the Roman Emperor Decius (249-251) because of their faith. A mason found them in 479, still asleep. In fact, Rip van Winkle-ishly they thought they had been asleep for only one night, instead of 229 years. Various adventures ensue—amazement that Christians are no longer persecuted; that when they try to buy bread with their pocket change, the coins are so ancient that the baker suspects them of having found a buried treasure, etc. Eventually a church was built over the cave and every year the feast of the 7 Sleepers is observed on July 27.

A similar story is included in the Koran—where the men sleep for 309 years and are accompanied by their dog, Kratim (who became a great philosopher once he woke up).

The legend circulated in Greek, Latin, Anglo-Norman poetry--and has even been found in an Old Norse fragment. Maybe Arnhild, whose Ph.D. thesis was on medieval Norse ballads, can enlighten us when we see her.

How this relates to the weather in Latvia is beyond me. The Germans also have a proverb about Seven Sleepers Day (Siebenschlafer) related to rain. Since I plan to arrive in Latvia on Thursday and will be implanted in Riga on July 27, I’ll be able to give you an eye-witness report when we finally meet on Saturday.

Note: There should be two more postings before I leave. Please keep watching.

Art Nouveau (Jugenstil) in Riga

2007-07-11T22:51:00.000-04:00

Around the turn of the 20^th century, Riga was booming. Between 1897 and 1913, the population grew 88%, reaching 530,000 in 1914. It was the 5^th largest city in the Russian Empire and 3^rd largest in the Baltic region (after St. Petersburg and Warsaw). The walls and fortifications around Vecriga (the old city) had been torn down, and the city was expanding and modernizing.

A ring of boulevards arcing around Vecriga was developing, and stone buildings were replacing the wooden ones. When we stay at Hotel Latvija this month, we will be located near the heart of all this development between Brivības Boulevard and Elizabetes Street.

The style of the new buildings (1898-1905) reflected the latest in European architecture of the time—in Paris and Brussels it was known as Art Nouveau, while in Munich it was called Jugendstil. Characteristics of this movement were the asymmetry and vertical, curvilinear lines. On Riga buildings plants, animals, shells, human masks with grotesque expressions, fantastic creatures, and Greek gods are some of the decorations on the facades, over the portals, encircling windows--and surprising passersby.

One of the most famous buildings in Vecriga is called the cat house because of the two wrought iron cats balancing atop two of the small towers. Wrought iron was a popular material as well as stain glass, enamels—interior decorations that resemble the Pre-Raphaelites' (Beardsley or Morris) art. In the US the closest counterpart, arriving a little later would be the Arts and Crafts movement.

This week the weekly English language newspaper, The Baltic Times carried a story about the Retro Tram now shuttling tourists around city center. Of course, for those who like to walk, we’ll be planning some strolls to look at some of the amazing buildings—not only from the Art Nouveau era but also the medieval city and the later National Romantic style the followed Art Nouveau beginning in 1906.

What Do They Speak in Riga?

2007-07-10T21:44:00.000-04:00

Quite a variety of languages, actually. The official language of the country is Latvian, believed to be one of the oldest Indo-European languages--along with its only living relative, Lithuanian. The two are not close enough for be mutually intelligible though. Beginning in 1908, Latvian adopted the Roman alphabet; its nicest quality is that it is usually pronounced (with first syllable accented) the same way it is spelled. The letters q, w, x, and y are missing but some diacritical marks are added to some letters that contribute additional lengthening and palatalizing sounds (for example ā, ģ, ķ, š and 6 more) making 33 letters in the Latvian alphabet.

If you enjoy linguistics, this link to The Latvian Institute provides more details about the language. At the end of this post, I’ll provide some useful phrases that you could put on a crib sheet and bring on the trip, if you are so inclined.

In the country as a whole, there are about 1.4 million native speakers of Latvian, but more of them are in the countryside and not in Riga. During its days as a major Soviet city, Riga developed a non-Latvian speaking population because of the large influx of workers from elsewhere in the USSR. In fact, in 1989, shortly before the re-emergence of independent Latvia, nearly 65% of the population of Riga had Russian (or another Slavic language) as their first language. Through emigration that percentage has dropped to about 54% Russian and 46% Latvian speakers today.

Since our hotel, Reval Hotel Latvija, is now Estonian owned and seems to be a favorite with Estonians, Finns, Swedes, and Norwegians, we’ll be hearing a lot of the other guests speaking those languages, too. And since we are arriving in the middle of summer, we can expect lots of vacationing Europeans. Many Germans trace their roots to the Baltic Germans who arrived in the city in the 13^th century and didn’t leave until forced out after the First World War. Since Ryanair has daily flights from London to Riga starting at £35, we can also expect to hear lots of British English spoken as well.

And English is definitely coming on fast as the favored lingua franca. Knowing English is a prerequisite for employment at Hotel Latvija and for working in the many shops and services catering to tourists. Still, it’s nice to be able to utter a few pleasantries, count to ten, and ask some basic questions in Latvian. Incidentally, the stress goes on the first syllable unless indicated otherwise and a line over a vowel means it’s long:

Yes / No Jā / Nē

Hi! Sveiks (it can also be used when parting)

Goodbye Uz redzēšanos

Good morning Labrīt (stress on 2^nd syllable)

Good day Labdien (stress on 2^nd syllable)

Good evening Labvakar (stress on 2^nd syllable)

Good night Ar labu nakti

Please /You’re Welcome Lūdzu

Thank you Paldies (stress on 2^nd syllable)

OK Labi (literally “good”)

Excuse me/Sorry Atvainojiet

Do you speak English? Vai jūs runājat angliski?

How much does it cost? Cik tas maksā?

Please write it down. Lūdzu uzrakstiet.

I don’t understand. Es nesaprotu.

Help! Palīgā!

Go away! Ejiet prom!

NUMBERS

0 nulle

1 viens

2 divi

3 trīs

4 četri

5 pieci

6 seši

7 septiņi

8 astoņi

9 deviņi

10 desmit

Wednesday: A Preview of Riga's famed Art Nouveau architecture (see example above)

Can you buy yarn in Riga?

2007-06-24T16:03:00.000-04:00

Finally someone asked me a question!

In a later posting, I’ll offer some suggestions about shopping in Riga and ideas for gifts to bring home. You will see lots and lots of hand-knit mittens and socks for sale throughout Vecriga, but I believe I’ve walked every cobblestoned street in that section of the city and can state categorically: there is not a single yarn store.

I turned up two mildly interesting stores (not far from our hotel), a tiny shop that carries a limited stock of local Latvian yarn as a sideline amid suvenīri, and I saw on the bus but not did not visit one other on the highway heading out of town. That’s it—other than a couple stalls at Central Market on Saturday mornings (too early for most of us to have arrived).

Bottom line: You will probably be disappointed if you decide to wait to buy the yarn for any of the trip projects in Riga.

Both Lia and I have hunted for yarn shops during several extended visits to the city. The following shops are the only ones the two of us found—or even heard about. We suspect a conspiracy: those knitters who turn out the mittens and socks for the souvenir vendors don’t want to share their wool!

Dzija (this means “yarn” in Latvian and that is the only name I saw on the sign outside this shop). Located at 11 Merkeļa (middle of the block between Barona and Marijas across the street from the Russian circus), about 3 blocks from our hotel. The yarn shop is downstairs in the basement. Most of the yarn is Italian, but they have good prices and a large inventory. Several bins are filled with bags of 10 or more skeins at bargain prices. I also got small steel double point needles here (size 0, 00, and 000). The staff is Russian and so are all of the knitting magazines and patterns. If you have been looking for a quantity of yarn to make a sweater, bring along your pattern because this might be a good place for you.
Adele. Located at 30 Gertrudes (middle of the block between Terbatas and Barona, 5 blocks from the hotel). The shop is street level and sells both yarn and yard goods. Some interesting yarns, but all of them are imported mostly from Italy. Patterns are in Russian and German. I didn’t see many bargains. It’s a smallish shop and not nearly as well stocked as what true yarn lovers consider “a find”.
Dāvanu dizains (“Gift design”). Located at 1 Inženieru, a 1-block long side street between Merkeļa and Raina next to the main building of the University of Latvia. This is a teeny souvenir shop that only carries Latvian yarn as a sideline. You can see in the window from the street, but you have to go into the building to reach it. I bought some of the yarn. It comes in 100-gram (unwound) skeins, 100% Latvian wool, light sports weight, just right for mittens, bags, and socks and costs LT 1.10 (about $2) per skein. BUT there were only a few colors and a grand total of only 20 skeins in one pigeon hole. I got the card and e-mail address, and I plan to write to the manager, telling her some serious knitters will be in town on Monday, July 30, and encouraging her to stock up on that yarn from Limbaži. It was well spun.
Illustives. I haven’t visited this one, only saw it from the bus window on the way out to the Ethnographic Museum (which we will be visiting Sunday morning). The address is 390 Brīvības (definitely not walking distance). If possible, I’ll try to check up on it before you all arrive and see if it’s worthy of us.

That’s it. Arnhild asked me to make a full report since she says knitters will always go looking for yarn even when you warn them there are no great yarn stores in the town. I’ll be happy to show you where these few are. They all should be open all day Monday (from 10 am until we leave for the ferry) but not Sunday.

Here are a few terms to help you read yarn labels:

dzija = yarn

adīšana= knitting

vilna = wool

kokvilna = cotton

lins = linen

zids = silk

sintētika = synthetic

adāmadatas = knitting needles

zeķu adāmadatas = double-point needles

sastāvs = yarn content

svars = weight (50 gr, 100, gr)

garums = length (in meters)

Fragments of mittens unearthed during archaeological digs prove that mittens have existed in the Latvian region since the 15^th century. Knitting needles have been discovered even in the 14^th century layer of excavations. The artist’s rendering shows the oldest remains of a 15th century mitten and glove found in excavations in Riga and restored by the archaeologist Anna Zariņa.

Midsummer's Eve

2007-06-23T14:07:00.000-04:00

When Arnhild and I first sketched out plans for this trip, she e-mailed me a first draft of the itinerary. She had us arriving in Riga today, Saturday, June 23. I went ballistic, sending her a speedy response that of all days June 23 was NOT the right one for first- time visitors. How could I explain that St. John’s Eve is the biggest, most widely observed holiday in the Latvian calendar, and that every red-blooded Latvian would be off to the countryside to celebrate—probably until Tuesday (when we would already be arriving in Stockholm)?

Fortunately, Arnhild was able to redesign the schedule. But you can’t claim to know anything about Latvia unless you have a nodding acquaintance with the green market, Līgo, and Jāņi, and pundeles. We have just passed the summer solstice on Thursday (6/21) when pre-Christians of northern Europe marked the longest day and shortest night. The outdoor green market, held yesterday and today in Riga and in cities and towns throughout the country, is the place to buy your St. John supplies: homemade beer, cheese, medicinal herbs for the year, flowers plaited into wreaths for the young women, wreaths of oak leaves for the men (especially for special guys named Jānis –John, who are also celebrating their name’s day), birch besoms for the sauna, meijas (garlands of flowers, tree branches, and herbs for decorating both the inside of country houses, gates, and outbuildings), and even cows get wreaths for the occasion!

The most important Midsummer plant, however, is the mythical blooming fern. According to legend, this magic flower only opens tonight, St. John’s Eve, in the darkest part of the forest. Traditionally, searches for these ferns are conducted by pairs of young men and nubile maidens, none of whom have documented any finds--despite “looking” all night.

Līgo is the characteristic refrain for the thousands of folk songs Latvians sing on June 23 about the sun, the sky son Jānis or Yanis, the hosts of each farmstead—Midsummer’s “mother” and “father” who are greeted in song by the celebrants (“Jānis’ children”) as they go singing Līgo, Līgo from farm to farm and doing lots of eating and drinking at each stop. Here is a Līgo that’s well known (note all the ligos (your basic “tra-la-la”) between each line):

Sieru, sieru, Jāņa māte, Give us cheese, Jāņi mother,
Līgo, līgo

Tev bij govis laidarā; You have cows in your barn
Līgo.

Alu, alu, Jāņa Tēvis, Give us beer, Jāņi father
Līgo, līgo,

Tev bij mieži tīrumā You have barley in your fields.
Līgo!

As soon as the sky darkens, bonfires are built on hillsides. Macho types sometimes jump over them to ensure prosperity and fertility, although this practice is now discouraged by the Latvian Emergency Services. Sometimes pundeles (small barrels of pitch on tall wooden poles) are put up instead and much singing, dancing, and drinking go on around them.

The festivities last all night, and then in the morning before staggering off for a nap, everyone greets the morning sun. Some go skinny dipping in whatever body of water is nearby. Washing your face in the morning dew on the grass is supposed to be particularly beneficial. Then the partying starts up again on Sunday.

Oh, dear. I just checked the current weather report for Latvia. It is now 8:30 p.m. Saturday evening. The sun should set at 10:22 pm and rise at 4:30 am. Currently it is drizzling, the temperature is 59 F (but it feels like 70 F because the humidity is 93%). Those folk costumes can’t be too comfortable. A thunderstorm is expected during the night—so much for bonfires and fern-hunting. Sounds like drinking and singing will have to do this year. Actually that was the situation the two Janis I celebrated there.

Arriving in Riga

2007-06-20T15:04:00.001-04:00

I believe Arnhild has been in touch with everyone about arrival times in Riga, Latvia on Saturday, July 28 (or earlier in some cases). Our bus will be meeting and transporting most of the group.

The Riga airport (lidosta) is about 8 km southwest of the center of Riga. First you show your passport at Passport Control (if there’s a crowd, remember to get in the line for non-citizens and non-EU citizens. Next comes baggage claim (with free carts sitting around that you can use). On the off chance that your baggage doesn’t arrive, go to the Lost & Found Service located in the arrival area and file a report. They will arrange to have the luggage delivered to you at the hotel.

Then pass through customs and security control, which normally goes pretty quickly. If you are going into Riga on your own, you might want to get some local currency at this point. In the airport, some sellers may take euros, but it is not the legal tender. (See my posting “What about money?” [posted on June 5] for information about the Latvian lat.) In the arrival area there is a currency exchange booth, which is open until the last flight comes in each evening. There are also three ATMs throughout the terminal. (The Latvians call them “automats” in case you need to ask where one is located.)

Let me first report what the guide “Riga in your pocket” has to say about getting to town: “A queue of eager taxis will be waiting for you outside the arrivals hall. A typical ride to Vecriga (Old Town) or the city center (where our hotel is located) should cost no more than 9 Ls.” [Actually it was more like 6-8 Ls. in May.]

Then let me add my 2-santim’s worth: The best, most reliable taxi company in Riga is called “Rigas T” or “Rigas taksometris.” All of these cabs are red Renaults, and I am including a photo I took in May of the one that took us back to the airport from Vecriga. If you have a mobile phone and want to call one, there is a toll-free number: 800 13 13.

When you call one, they will take the information (in English) and your phone number. Then they will call to confirm when the taxi is on its way, and they will even give you the taxi’s car number (located in a white circle on the front doors--above it's #74).

Conveniently, Rigas T has its headquarters at our hotel, Reval Hotel Latvija. In fact, if you want to e-mail the hotel ahead of time and ask them to have a taxi waiting for you at the airport, they will provide this service and it will be a Rigas T. They bill your hotel room and you can pay them when you check out. The website for the hotel is http://www.revalhotels.com/en/Hotels/Latvia-Riga/Reval-Hotel-Latvija. The e-mail address is latvija.sales@revalhotels.com, the telephone number is +371 (country code for Latvia from the US) 777 22 22, and the fax number is +371 777 22 21.

In the unlikely chance that the cabbie doesn’t know where Hotel Latvija is, tell him (or rarely her) its 55 Elizabetes.

By bus

If you are really adventurous and you don’t mind schlepping luggage up and down the steps of a bus, Bus no. 22 (a bargain at 30 santims) goes from the far side of the airport parking lot to the train station (about 10 blocks from our hotel) every 20 minutes. Good news: the express bus no. 22A goes to the Orthodox Cathedral (less than one block from our hotel); bad news: it runs on an erratic timetable. But, if you’re really adventurous…

Skābenes—A Summer Taste

2007-06-16T18:25:00.000-04:00

If you belong to a CSA and receive a greens share, some times in June you may find in your box (next to the kohlrabi and Jerusalem artichokes) a bunch of sorrel. The first time I saw some, I thought it looked like turnip greens and put it in a salad (which is perfectly fine).

In various parts of Europe it is highly prized. In France it is pulverized to make an elegant cream soup. But unassuming Eastern Europe sorrel soup is a beloved (and quite tart) summer staple in Latvia. It’s filled with bits of dill, hard-cooked egg, lemon, carrot, onion, potato, sorrel, and wherever else needs using up. And it’s also memorable.

Tonight I started off with a hot version of skābenes zupa (as the Latvians call it). Afterward I put the leftover soup in the frig, and next time around (after adding more salt and pepper), it will be served cold. I think it’s even better that way—definitely refreshing on a hot evening. The season for sorrel only last a couple of months, and Latvians claim it has lots of wonderful properties—it can ward off scurvy, bring down a fever, and is rich with potassium and vitamins.

Here’s my version of the soup. But it’s one of those things that can be added to and subtracted from depending on what’s lurking in your vegetable drawer.

Chop up a yellow onion, a clove of garlic, and several carrots. Melt a dab of butter with some canola oil and brown these root vegetables in a big pot.
Add about 8 cups of stock—beef broth, vegetable water, whatever has some flavor. Turn it down once it boils. Cook the root vegetables until they’re nearly soft.
Meanwhile, in a separate saucepan, bring some small new potatoes to a boil in water flavored with chicken bouillon. Simmer for 15-20 minutes until the potatoes can be pierced with a knife. (This added step is a little different. Most recipes add potatoes to the stock along with the root vegetables, but I don’t like what potatoes do to soup—they turn mealy and soak up a lot of the broth. So I only add them to each bowl of finished soup and save the leftovers separately to add to the cold soup).
Next add ½ lb. of chopped sorrel and spinach to the broth along with small amounts of chopped parsley, chopped dill weed, salt, and pepper. Only bring the soup back to the boiling point and then it’s done.
In each bowl, before ladling in the soup and adding potatoes, place some hard cooked egg slices and a lemon slice in the bottom. On top of the bowl of broth just before serving, add a dollop of sour cream with more chopped dill weed.

That’ll do it; I think it’s really good. Now then, what to do with that Jerusalem artichoke and kohlrabi? Perhaps you have some suggestions. My daughter Brenda, my blogging advisor, tells me my “Comment” setting has been turned off. I’m sorry if it’s prevented anyone from having their say, and I’m remedying the situation as of this posting. So let me hear from you.

Incidentally, in case you are a fan of yoga, you might be interested in the blog of this aforementioned daughter, who is a fine yoga teacher and the writer of the blog “Grounded Thru the Sit Bones: Some yoga thoughts, some yoga practice ,” which recently celebrated its first anniversary. If you click on the link, it will take you to Brenda’s latest posting, which also happens to contain this photo of my handsome grandson, Eamonn, last week.

Kur ir tualete? (Where's the restroom?)

2007-06-10T14:44:00.000-04:00

Among my family members, I have developed a reputation as a seeker and finder of public restrooms—a sniffer-out of WCs (ugh). Actually, I developed this skill back in 1993 when we spent 6 months in Latvia, during the time when it was part of the post-Soviet “Wild, Wild East”. Finding a decent water closet wasn’t easy. Locals were reluctant to answer the question “Kur ir tualete?” when a westerner asked them. In the foreign languages department of the University of Latvia where I taught, my female colleagues at first warned me that the WC in our hallway was in poor condition because of the philosophers—all males! What they meant was that the toilet had long ago lost its seat; there was no paper, no soap, no towels, and only a trickle of cold, rusty water from the sink. Apparently members of the philosophy faculty were so lost in deep thoughts they didn’t notice the horrible stink of this hell hole.

I’m happy to report the bathroom situation in Riga has improved immensely since then. After numerous visits to the country, I can provide a list of places where WCs are available to the public and some hints about procedures to follow.

Hotels and restaurants are still the best bet for finding clean, free restrooms, although if you are not a patron, some may be reluctant to show you where to go. Our hotel, Reval Hotel Latvija, has fine facilities just around the corner from the reception desk (near the children’s play corner at the restaurant).

Next come public buildings, such as museums, the University of Latvia main building on Raiņa bulvāris, and the city hall on Rātslaukums (directly across the square from the tourist information office). The airport also has free WCs—but the Central train station doesn’t. It is like most public toilets in the city: you have to pay a small fee when you enter. Usually a woman is guarding the door. First you pay her, then she gives you a scrap of toilet paper, and you proceed. Since the pittance for this privilege varies, it’s best always to have some santims, Kleenexes, and moist towelettes in your pocket. At the train station and up on the 4^th floor of the ritzy new shopping center Galerija Centrs, the price is 10 santims. In Vermanes dārzs (near the flower stalls at the Terbatas entrance) and near the Laima clock (Brīvības and Aspazijas), the price is 15 santims. And to accommodate the tourists frequenting the beer gardens in Līvu laukums (toward the corner near the Cat House) the price is 20 santims.

Signage for these facilities is not completely standardized, although many have “WC” or “tualete” and then an indication of whether they are gender specific or not. Women’s restrooms might be indicated with only an “S” for sievietes (women), “D” for dāmas (ladies), or a triangle pointing up. Men’s facilities could be designated with either a “V” for vīrieši (men), “K” for kungi (gentlemen), or a triangle pointing down. Those triangles seem to be particularly popular.

What About Money?

2007-06-05T16:31:00.000-04:00

Although Latvia is now a member of the European Union, it has not yet met the convergence criteria necessary to convert to euros. The national currency is the lat (LVL 1 = 100 santims). In 2005, the peg rate of lat to euro was set at 1 EUR = 0.702804 LVL (and it remains close at 0.69435 with an economy described as “overheated.”) GDP growth last year was 11.6%. Inflation this spring has been at 6%, and fear exists that the currency may have to be devalued. To check exchange rates for the lat online, go to http://www.oanda.com/convert/classic.

As of June 1, the exchange rate to our currencies is as follows: 1 LVL = $1.93851 USD; 1 LVL = $2.05354 CAD; and 1 LVL = 0.97623 GBP. So an easy way to remember (at least for me) is that the lat is worth nearly twice as much as a US or Canadian dollar and is almost the same as a pound. But for the Norwegians among us (with their powerful kroner), 1 LVL = 11.66675 NOK (1 NOK = 0.08571 LVL).

BTW, although Sweden has joined the EU, it was not converted to euros. Therefore in Stockholm, we’ll have to convert to kronas (currently 1 USD = 6.91200 SEK.

Back to Latvian currency: with 100 santims to 1 lat, the coins are 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, and 50 santims, and 1 and 2 lats. Bank notes come in denominations of 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, and 500 lats.

To convert currency, look for booths marked “Valūtas maiņa,” but always check the posted buying and selling rates before exchanging. I noticed one booth is at the airport between the arrival gate and customs. Our hotel, most restaurants, and shops generally accept Visa and MasterCards. There are many ATM machines (called “Automats” by the Latvians) throughout the city including 4 at the airport and 1 in the lobby of our hotel (across from the reception desk, below the circular staircase to the Conference Center). As Arnhild mentioned, ATMs are the most convenient way to change money and give the best rates. Traveler’s checks can be cashed at many banks.

Time Heralds Riga

2007-06-04T21:07:00.000-04:00

To learn a little about the current economic situation of Riga, take a look at this week's Time Magazine feature about the Baltic states. According to my husband (who scrutinizes developments in his native land carefully), Purvis' account is generally accurate. It neglects mentioning, however, the great disparity between the economic success in Riga and the poverty of rural parts of the country. Also between younger and older people.

Name Days (Vardadienas)

2007-06-03T20:23:00.000-04:00

If you know anyone with the first name of Dailis, Inta, Intra, Jūnijs or Sintra, be sure to phone them today (June 3) and wish them a happy name’s day. Latvia is one of many countries that enthusiastically observe this practice.

The associations between the days and the names have arisen for many reasons, but primarily because the Roman Catholic Church held a festival for a saint of that name on that day. For instance, the church feast of Saint Michael is on September 29, and as a result that is also the name day for Mikeļis or Mikus (Latvian versions of Michael). In some countries, one's name day is more important than one's birthday, and sometimes gifts are given. In Latvia, frequently the celebrant will bring refreshments to the office on his name day. One of the most popular treats is a pretzel-shaped sweet bread called kliņģeris, also used as the Latvian birthday cake (the link will take you to an online recipe). In the foreign languages department at the University of Latvija where I taught as a Fulbrighter, on someone’s name day my colleagues sat down between classes to eat kliņģeris and chocolates filled with liqueur—washed down with coffee and a shot of brandy or Rigas Melnais Balzams. (I found it a little hard to teach a 90-minutes class afterwards. I'm not going to devote a posting to balzams, but it's something you need to know about to fully appreciate Latvia--another link)

On someone’s names day, colleagues arrive with flowers, sweets, and small presents. Celebrating name days at home is not as popular as celebrating a birthday, although it may vary depending on the period of time between one's birthday and name day.

Each year the Latvian calendar is printed with name days marked. Just for fun I looked to see how many of the members of our traveling group might have names days. Here is what I found chronologically:

January 6 Arnita (is that close enough to “Arnhild”?)
January 16 Lija (Lia)
March 19 Jāzepina (Joey)
April 18 Laura
April 30 Linda
May 28 Vilhelms (Bill)
May 30 Jean
June 24 Jānis (John/Jack)
July 3 Bonita (Bonnie)
July 25 Jēkabs (Jimmie)
July 26 Anna, Annija (Anne)
July 27 Marta (Martha)
Sept. 20 Lisa
Sept. 21 Debra
Oct. 17 Karīna (Karen)
Oct. 17 Karola (Carolyn)
Nov. 19 Elizabete (Elizabeth)
Nov. 25 Katrīna (Cathy, Kathleen)
Dec. 3 Barbara
Dec. 15 Jānet
Dec. 30 Davids, Davis (David)

Those without a name day have several options for celebrating. The Latvian name-day calendar is updated at one or two-year intervals; anyone can suggest a name for the calendar, usually by sending an application to the State Language Center. The Center tries to spread new names out so that not more than 3 or 4 are celebrated on any particular day. Meanwhile, any name can be celebrated on May 25 or February 29. (So those are your options Cheri, Marcia, Mardelle, Øyvor, Sharon, Shelby, and Shirley!)

Legend of the 15th-Century Founder of Riga

2007-05-14T13:08:00.001-04:00

(Mostly based upon an entry in Riga 2001, a local publication commemorating the city’s 800^th anniversary)

In ancient times, before Riga had been built, a very large man named Kristaps (the Latvian form of Christopher) built himself a hut on the right bank of the Daugava River. He earned his living by carrying people across the river on his back (or in some versions, in his ferry boat). They disembarked at the spot where Riga now stands.

One night Kristaps awoke to the sound of a child crying on the left bank of the river. He waded over, picked up the mournful babe and began carrying him back across the river to the hut. With each step, Kristaps found that the child became heavier until by midstream only with the greatest of effort could Kristaps made it to shore. [Explanation: The babe was really the Christ Child in disguise but he was bearing the weight of the sins of the world.]

With his last ounce of strength, Kristaps laid the child on the rug in front of the hearth in his hut and dropped off into an exhausted slumber. In the morning Kristaps awoke to discover that the child had disappeared, leaving behind a coffer filled with gold. Kristaps was a humble man and from this treasure, he spent not a centime (in Latvian coinage, santims is 1/100^th of a lats) until his dying day. Then he gave all the money to build Riga near the spot where his hut once stood.

Kristaps = St. Christopher

In church legends, St. Kristofor (Kristaps/Christopher) was a giant from Canaan who lived in the 3^rd century AD. He spread the Christian message of love and died a martyr’s death. In Greek, Christophoros means “one who carries Christ.” In 15^th-century Riga, St. Kristaps became the beloved patron saint of sailors and others employed in the merchant trade [probably a parallel with the St. Christopher’s medal worn by travelers everywhere even today].

The common folk of Riga transformed the foreign St. Kristofor into their own mythic figure and prefer to claim that he founded the city rather than the powerful German bishop Albert (mentioned in my April 29 posting about the spires of Riga. Around 1590, a replica of Lielais Kristaps (Big Christopher) was carved from a 2.36-meter pine log (i.e. nearly 8 feet) and placed on the bank of the Daugava River. This cherished statue even survived the ravages of the Reformation, when many Catholic artifacts were destroyed. Regardless of their religion, people visited the statue, decorated it with ribbons and floral wreaths, lit candles, and begged Kristaps to protect them from evil.

Today the statue of Kristaps is kept in the Museum of Riga’s History and Navigation (around the corner from the Dome cathedral). In recent years a replicate in a glass case has been placed near the river on 11 Novembra Krastmala. Lielais Kristaps also appears on the reverse side of the 10-lati coin (worth approximately $5).

Kristaps Still Favored by Latvians

The National Film Board of Latvia calls its biannual awards (its "Oscars" to be present again in autumn 2007) Lielais Kristaps. Kristaps remains a popular name for boys, who celebrate their name day on December 18 each year. (There will be more about the name-day practice in Latvia in my next posting.)

Don’t be surprised if you see in various places during our stay in Riga likenesses of the giant with a baby on his left shoulder, a lantern in his left hand, and an oar in his right.

May he also look after us.

Those Famous Latvian Mittens

2007-05-09T21:34:00.000-04:00

My female Latvian friends are mostly English teachers and academics. Two are weavers, although one has sold her loom because she works all the time and it takes up too much space in her apartment. These friends were bemused when I told them that the hand-knit, colorful mittens are among the (few) things Americans know about Latvia. They expected their long tradition of complicated weaving designs would be the premier handicraft, just as Latvians themselves generally believe. For example, a whole floor in the Museum of Decorative and Applied Arts in possibly the oldest building in Riga (c. 1202) is devoted to weaving and tapestries—while mittens only show up in the museum gift shop. Knitting is a prosaic, portable pastime as far as they are concerned.

The person who raised Latvian mitten awareness in the U.S. is another American who married a Latvian (as I did), but who compiled an all-encompassing book on the subject of those mittens. Of course, I’m referring to Lizbeth Upitis, whose Latvian Mittens/Latviešu cimdi first came to knitters' attention in 1981. Its popularity led to a second edition by Schoolhouse Press in 1997, and just last month (April 2007), another printing.

A spin-off resulted when Lizbeth loaned Joyce Williams some books on Latvian weaving (A Joy Forever, Latvian Weaving, Traditional and Modified by Jane A. Evans, 1991, and several Soviet-era Latvian books by Z. Ventaskrast from the 1950s with weaving patterns). As Joyce says in her book Latvian Dreams: Knitting from Weaving Charts (Schoolhouse Press, 2000): “…looking at some of the [weaving] charts…I felt they would make excellent knitted designs.” Between the two of them, Lizbeth and Joyce have published enough Latvian patterns to keep all of us endlessly knitting stranded colorwork mittens, socks, sweaters--and wherever our needles and imaginations lead us.

Latest Latvian knitting news

Those patterns keep showing up. In the recent issue of Interweave Knits (Summer 2007), Kate Gilbert adapted a motif that she found on a traditional Latvian mitten to develop a pattern for a cap in three sizes (child’s, woman’s, and man’s) and three color ways (see pages 45 and 108).

In the same issue, Deborah Pulliam devoted her regular column “Knitted Artifact” to the Latvian mitten-making project for the NATO summit in Riga last fall (page. 9). I had intended to write about this remarkable undertaking in my blog, but Deborah scooped me.

NATO Mitten Project

Latvia was admitted to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization in 2004, hopeful that NATO membership might provide some security from Russia, its large neighbor and past subjugator (which still refers to Latvia as the “near abroad”). The honor of hosting a NATO summit in 2006 led to feverish preparations last summer and fall. Someone in public relations came up with the idea of presenting each of the 4,500 guests at the summit with a pair of handmade Latvian mittens. Knitters from the countryside were recruited and paid $12-14 per pair to knit these devilishly difficult mittens (on 0 or 00 double-point needles). Of course, the knitters rose to the occasion and examples of the results have been preserved online (in a huge zipped file). I’m providing links to postings on the NATO Summit website entitled “The story of a 1,000-year-old Latvian mitten” and “Renaissance of Latvia’s ethnographic mittens.” Also to designs from Mirdza Slava's classic Cimdu Raksti on Latvian mittens and the NATO collection.

In Riga next July I can guarantee that you will be able to buy hand-knit Latvian mittens, gloves, and socks from vendors and shops all over Vēcriga (the old city). Also at museum shops, such as the one at the Open Air Ethnographic Museum we will be visiting on Sunday, July 29. Set in a pine forest next to Lake Jugla on 100 hectares, “museum” is probably not the right word for this re-creation of traditional Latvian country life. Frequently craftspeople (knitters, weavers, blacksmiths, wood carvers, jewelry makers) and folk musicians are doing their thing on summer Sundays throughout the museum.

If you’d like to learn some of the techniques for Latvian mitten embellishments (braids, fringe, cast-on, scalloped and picoted borders), I'll be offering a knitting session during our ferry ride from Riga to Stockholm. I’ve adapted motifs from mittens to a couple of small shoulder bags. Arnhild will be posting samples of the Latvian project on her website with details about yarn and needles.

Spires (and Roosters) of Riga

2007-04-29T11:24:00.000-04:00

When I shut my eyes and think “Riga,” I see ancient church spires. Clearly, I’m not the only one because the logo for the 800^th anniversary of the city in 2001 used a line (almost like an electrocardiogram) for those spires. And for nearly 800 years, four of those spires have been landmarks: the Dome Cathedral, St. Peter’s, St. Jacob’s, and St. John’s churches.

The cornerstone of the Dome was laid in 1211, becoming the headquarters of Albert, Bishop of Riga and founder of the city during German domination. Now it’s slightly sunken from the rest of Dome Square in the middle of Vēcriga (the old, medieval city), and claims the title of largest church in the Baltic States (Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia). After the Protestant Reformation, the cathedral lost much of its elaborate interior. Today it’s famous for the fine organ (Walcker, 1884) and frequent organ concerts. [To check on what might be happening during our visit in July: http://www.music.lv/organ/organs/Riga_Dom.html]

St. Peter’s church (1209) is a Gothic structure with the tallest (405 feet), wedding-cakey spire, which has been rebuilt three times. The first wooden steeple, erected in 1491, collapsed. Its replacement was badly damaged by lightning and replaced in 1721. That one lasted until 1941, when German mortar fire destroyed both the tower and most of the church. The ragged stump of St. Peter’s waited 3 decades during Soviet times before the current steel tower was built in 1973. If you take the elevator up to the observation platform (a custom of Latvian couples on their wedding day), the bird's eye view is great. Admission is about 1.5 Lati, and the elevator is open 10-18 except on Mondays. (Our hotel, the Reval Hotel Latvija, has the other great panoramic view of Riga from the Skyline Bar on the 26^th floor.)

St. John’s church (1234) began as a Dominican cloister. After the monks were tossed out during the Reformation (around 1523), it was a stable for the mayor’s horses, then an arsenal, until the Polish king seized it and gave it to the Jesuits. They were eventually replaced by the Lutherans. Lots of old Riga buildings metamorphosed over the centuries in similar ways. St. John’s was where my husband was baptized in 1941, when the city teetered back and forth between the Nazis and the Communists, before his family fled westward in 1944.

St. Jacob’s (1225-26), having changed hands several times, returned to being the Roman Catholic archbishop’s church in 1922. For me, its claim to fame is having the weather cock with the most character (see photo to the right).

Yes, I’m back to my bird theme again

For the 800-year jubilee of Riga’s founding, the rooster was chosen as the city’s symbol. The ancient steeples mentioned above had a rooster weather vane on top even back in the 1200s. Fires destroyed them frequently, but soon another gailis (Latvian rooster) would take its place. To tell which direction the wind is blowing, look where his beak is pointing.

In Christian folklore generally, I believe, the Devil is supposed to be terrified of the sound of crowing and can’t stand to be seen by the cock. According to legend, the rooster atop the Dome forecast times of abundance and of famine. One side of the rooster was painted black and the other, gold. If Rigans saw the black side, it indicated the doldrums had gripped the Baltic Sea, and no foreign ships could enter the harbor with their goods. But when the rooster flashed its gold side, then the local merchants knew ships would soon arrive, and a good marketing day was in store. Nowadays Riga’s roosters are gilded on both sides—in hopes of good times 24/7. Some of the older birds are still on display inside the Dome and St. Peter’s. St. Jacob’s copper rooster (my fave) has endured since 1736, while St. John’s (now in the eaves rather than at the top) is the oldest, dating from 1680.

Just as country Latvians think their storks are a sign of good luck, the urban Latvians revere their gaili as symbols of alertness, peace, prosperity, and as one writer says, “[they stand] ever vigilant against the Powers of Darkness”--a central Latvian theme. They've even been incorporated into the 1-Lats coin.

BTW, Latvian roosters don’t say “cock-a-doodle-do”. They say “kikerigī” (sounds like kicker-ee-ghee), which never ceased to amuse our daughters--along with Latvian dogs who say “vau-vau,” pigs who say “ruk-ruk,” and ducks who say “pēkš-pēkš.” Our friend the sheep still says “bēēē” (baaaa). Which reminds me, I need to talk next week about knitting in Latvia.

Observing Earth Day: Nest Voyeurs

2007-04-22T11:46:00.000-04:00

"She's laid another egg," my husband calls from his study. "Is that number four?" I shout back from the kitchen. This is turning into a rite of spring. For a second season we've become enthralled by a website from the Rezekne district of Latvia. To promote the rural beauty of the Latgale region, the owners of a horse farm rigged a camera just above the top of a tree on which a nesting platform has been constructed. Every 10 seconds, or 6 times per minute, the camera snaps the activities of the pair of European white storks who moved in this month. The screen goes black during hours of darkness (from approximately 1:00-10:00 p.m. CDT), but all morning long and late at night we can keep tabs on the private lives of the stork couple at the following website: http://untumi.lv/video/Camera1.html

"Untumi" is a Latvian noun that roughly translates as "quirkiness"--an apt descriptor for many Latvian enthusiasms, and one reason I enjoy visiting. This year terse captions in Latvian have been added to the site: On March 28, the male stork flew in (having wintered in Africa) and added a few tufts of grass and twigs to freshen up this previously owned nest. On April 5, the female arrived. Apparently, stork mating is more a matter of finding a good location than attractiveness of the opposite sex. These two also seem happy to participate in reality TV. The first egg was laid on April 13, and every other day another egg has been added until as of April 22, there are 4. Last year's pair had 4 eggs. The chicks hatched in May, were fed by both parents, and finally left the nest sometime in July.

Black Stork: Research subject

An ornithologist friend of ours, Peter Blums, is responsible for getting us hooked when he suggested we check out the website last spring. His expertise in banding ducklings in the Latvian marshes and following their migration patterns drew international attention in the 1990s and led to the migration of him and his wife, Maija, to University of Missouri's Gaylord Laboratory in Puxico about 14 years ago to study U.S. wood ducks with Leigh Frederickson. Peter tells me a European consortium of biological scientists from 8 countries has begun a project to follow the travels of the black storks, who are rarer and less accessible than their white cousins. They also find the forests and peat bogs of Latvia to their liking. By attaching a tiny radio transmitter to one of the stork's legs (see photo), scientists are able to following their flight of 10,000 kilometers southward in late summer and then northward again in spring and glean much more information than they could from banding them. Another website provides details about these efforts: http://flyingover.net/index2.cfm?inc=static&type=fovnat2000pro. The Latvian stork "ambassadors" are named Varis and Maija (and are described when you select "Black Storks ID Cards" from the menu on the left and then click on their silhouettes on the map).

Happily, over the past decade both white and black stork populations have been increasing in Latvia, which now hosts more storks than ever before. Unlike parts of western Europe where wetlands have been drained and pesticides have poisoned the bird's food sources (insects, frogs, the young of small birds), Latvian farmers have encouraged colonies of these waders. Enthusiasts have built substantial platforms (like the one at "Untumi") in convenient places for storks to nest, even scatterings some lime around the platform to make the stork think that another bird has already nested there successfully. One expert warns that the middle of a farmyard is probably not the best place for a platform. Storks eat a lot, and as Janaus says in her guide (citation below), "the white rain they produce over the edge of their nests can be powerful and frequent especially in June and July when the nests are populated with young birds."

Although we probably won't encounter any storks in Riga, no drive into the Latvian countryside is complete without sighting some storks sitting in the fields and atop the haystacks.

Resource for more information (in English) about Latvia's storks: Latvia--Land of the Storks by Mara Janaus (Jumava, 1999). It's a small paperback obtainable in most Riga bookstores from the series on aspects of Latvia's cultural heritage.