Listen to the words spoken by Latvian diplomats at émigré community functions.They choose their words carefully. There is the obligatory thank you for the role that post-war exiles played in the restoration of Latvia’s independence and for their later support of Latvia’s NATO membership drive.

But that’s all history and the question what have you done for me lately begs an answer. The size of the exile, now the émigré community in North America is dwindling. Politically it is a spent force. With the mass global movement of the peoples, the émigrés have become a minority among minorities and would be unable to come close to repeating the political activity of more than twenty years ago during the collapse of the Soviet Union. The politicians in Washington and Ottawa know it. So do the politicians in Riga.

Yet the émigré community and its leaders have an aggrandized view of their role on the political stage in Latvia. The motivation may be genuine, a desire to add value and help Latvia emerge from the long tail of Soviet occupation but it is too easy and self-gratifying to pontificate from safe havens abroad.

There are those who have returned and the results are mixed. Among the most successful is popular ex-President Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga. Less fortunate are the leaders of the World Federation of Free Latvians (PBLA) who over the past twenty years have tried to use the organization as a springboard onto the Latvian political stage. In between you have around five thousand expats ranging from retirees to idealistic youths many of whom have been in Latvia since the 1990s. Those who have survived successfully have done so by tossing out their parachutes and taking Latvia on its own terms. Among them you can find lawyers, software developers, professors, media figures, bankers, restauranteurs, pilots, a few ambassadors, entrepreneurs, some politicians and civil servants.

Nevertheless, 5,000 expats from the post-war diaspora of around 150,000 is not a lot. Economic, social and psychological factors – successful careers, pension concerns, proximity to family, children and grandchildren, access to medical care, lack of language proficiency in Latvian and unfortunately in Russian. Many have grown up or lived in the West and just feel different, that they really don’t fit in. The émigré community is there and its leaders need to pay attention even though what’s happening in Latvia seems more exciting and sexier.

It’s all about numbers. Let’s stick for the most part with the United States although things are playing out no differently in Canada or Australia, the other large overseas dominions.

According to USA census data, there are approximately 80,000 Americans of Latvian descent. ALA has mailing addresses for 12,000. The Latvian Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (LELBA) reported that in 2011 it had 8,826 baptized members, down form around 15,000 in 2000 and 28,000 in 1975. American Latvian song festivals attract up to 5,000 spectators and participants. ALA reports that there are around 500 students who attend after-hours Latvian schools across the USA, about 100 who participate at the Garezers summer high school and around 30 who attend its West Coast equivalent Kursa.

Let’s work the numbers the other way. To make the math simple, let’s assume that the 80,000 Americans of Latvian descent are uniformly distributed between ages 0 and 90.

They forget that even among those arriving from Displaced Person camps after the War, many stayed on the periphery or even dropped out preferring to integrate. They would do well to consider the generational issue when they complain that “jauniebraucēji” don’t turn out. The established émigré community is old while the new immigrants are young.

In her Master’s degree thesis “Defining Boundaries Between Two Immigrant Waves from Latvia: A Study of Latvian Supplemental Schools in the US” submitted to the University of Minnesota in 2011, Ilze Garoza, herself a recent arrival, presents the definition of forced migration proposed by migration scholar Nicholas Van Hear. It is the process “when individuals or communities are compelled, obliged or induced to move when otherwise they would stay put”, further adding, that “the force involved may be direct, focused or indirect, covert and diffuse…where departure from the homeland has been inflicted by an external force”.

Given that economic conditions in Latvia rather than wanderlust are by and large the trigger for the exodus, the notion of forced migration uncovers common elements between post-war exiles and the current emigration. The example of the British Isles shows that interest among immigrants in building and sustaining a community exists. Points of engagement with the old émigré  community are possible and must be found. However expecting them to roll into the structures of the established community to play a subservient role, is not realistic. That is not partnership. And do for example any national émigré organizations provide information or advice to immigrants from Latvia?

Priority number one is Latvian language training – basic, intermediate and advanced for elementary school children, teenage youths and adults. It needs to be web-based and interactive, accessible anywhere and anytime be it in the privacy of the student’s home or in the classrom of a heritage language school. It cannot be dependent on émigré community parent-teacher volunteers who are pressed for time, have little formal pedagogical training and whose Latvian language skills are not necessarily up to snuff.

An undertaking of this sort is beyond the abilities of the émigré community. It must be a partnership with institutions in Latvia. A glossy graphic-rich well-written Latvian history book in English targeted at high school students abroad would be money well spent. A similar text on Latvian geography in English would also be a welcome addition.

Making Latvian culture accesible to all is another priority. Latvian dancers, choirs, opera singers, artists and actors regularly tour émigré outposts around the gobe. They need to be promoted, not just within the Latvian community but externally to wider audiences. Latvian films are being shown at European Union film festivals in North America and elsewhere. At a recent festival in Toronto, The Return of Sergeant Lapins was screened. While not exactly Cannes material, the film was interesting and the neat thing was that of the more than 200 in attendance, about half were non-Latvians and they did not appear to regret turning out. The result? Positive connections.

Preservation of émigré history is also a priority. LNPL set the bar with its 1995 publication Latvieši Lielbritānijā which chronicled the history of Latvians in Great Britain. Aldis Putniņš has published a number of scholarly works about Latvians in Australia. “Mutvārdu vēsture” is an oral history project that uses audio and video to document stories of the Latvian immigrant experience in North America. But beyond that, the history of the émigré community is poorly documented.

The community has recognized the need to preserve its material archives albeit in a haphazard manner. While materials have been gathered, sent to local archives, shipped to Latvia, many more sit in boxes in dusty storage rooms. The April 2012 seminar hosted in Minneapolis by ALA on understanding archival work – selection, collection, cataloguing and storage as well as setting guidelines for community archival work is timely and the content needs to be disseminated widely. The seminar dovetails nicely with the “Latvians Abroad” museum and research centre being established in Latvia by expat émigrés. ALA is investing some serious money in the archival project. Kudos!

This article appeared in Jauno LAIKS nr. 2 2012 and is to be continued.

A group of Latvian history enthusiasts just spent three days dwelling on the past—and considering how to preserve it for the future.

For me, one of the most exciting aspects of the Conference on Latvian Diaspora Archives and Material Culture (Trimdas latviešu archīvu un materiālās kultūras konference) was learning about digitization of Latvian collections—and the challenges this poses.

The conference took place April 12-14 at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis. It was organized by the American Latvian Assocation, the university’s Immigration History Research Center, and the Latvians Abroad – Museum and Research Centre (Latvieši pasaulē – muzejs un petniecibas centrs).

The conference brought together archivists, librarians and museum workers, both professionals and volunteers. About 60 participants and speakers attended the conference, coming from around the U.S. as well as from Latvia, Germany and the United Kingdom. They talked a lot about their work, and also received practical advice on how to process and manage collections.

Haven Hawley, director of the IHRC, described how digitization of archival material often is misunderstood. People have two wrong assumptions about digitization, she told the audience on the last day of the conference.

First, people assume that everything in an archive will be digitized and made available online. Second, they assume that after digitization, the original is destroyed. Neither is true, Hawley said. Digitization is a labor-intensive process. It takes time and money to scan archival material. Plus, that material sometimes is restricted, meaning that it cannot be placed online for anyone to see.

Digitization of Latvian archival records and publications, both in the homeland and abroad, is expanding. Several speakers explained the work their institutions and organizations have been doing. As it turns out, there’s plenty to explore.

Aivija Everte of the Latvian National Library noted how the first efforts by the institution to digitize collections date to 1999, but the real work to create a national digital library began in earnest in 2006. About 20 collections are now available in digital format, from periodicals, to images, to audio recordings.

Everte highlighted four collections:

• The very first collection to be digitized was that of composer Jāzeps Vītols. Unfortunately, because of copyright restrictions the collection is only viewable from within the libary’s internal network.
• Latviešu Dziesmu svētki (1864–1940), a collection of posters, postcards, photographs and books that tell the story of the song festivals so important to Latvian national identity. Everte especially noted that the collection includes a completely digitized version of exile author Valentīns Bērzkalns’ monumental history of Latvian song festivals, Latviešu dziesmu svētku vēsture: 1864–1940. It’s interesting that his second volume, which examined the history of song festivals in the exile, has not been digitized.
• Periodika.lv contains digital versions of 40 newspapers and magazines published from 1895 to 1957 in the Latvian, German and Russian languages. Although she did not mention it, another valuable online collection is Mantojums, which contains digitized versions of quite a few newspapers from the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
• Zudusī Latvija, a collection of digitized drawings, postcards and photographs about forgotten places in Latvia. The collection covers the period from the late 19th century to today. The National Library, Everte said, will expand the project to include the post-World War II exile and is now looking for images that help illuminate such aspects as life in the Displaced Persons camps and cultural activities in the exiles’ adopted countries. Further information about what the library seeks is available from the Zudusī Latvija project coordinator, Ginta Zalcmane (ginta.zalcmane@lnb.lv).

Inese Kalniņa of the Latvian State Archive told the conference about several of its digital collections:

• Perhaps the most popular is Raduraksti, a collection of church books beginning with the late 18th century. It is a wonderful resource for anyone researching family history.
• The Latvian State Archive of Audiovisual Documents (Latvijas Valsts kinofotofonodokumentu arhīvs) gathers photographs, audio records, film and other materials that document Latvia’s history. Among films that can be viewed on the site is one documenting Russian Czar Nicholas II’s visit to Rīga in 1910.
• A number of digital exhibits, such as “Aizvestie,” a look at the 1941 deportations from Latvia, and “Latviešu strēlnieku piemineklis laika lokos,” which examines the history of the imposing statue in downtown Rīga honoring the Latvian Riflemen.

Ints Dzelzgalis discussed the work behind ALAIDD.org, the website for the American Latvian Assocation’s Immigration Documentation Database (Amerikas latviešu apvienības Imigrācijas dokumentācijas datubāze. The database is meant to gather evidence about all the different exile organizations in the United States—some 3,000, past and present, according to Dzelzgalvis. Visitors can find information on many of these organizations, as well as digitized documents.

Finally, Maija Hinkle talked about the Rīga-based Latvians Abroad museum project and its website, lapamuzejs.lv, where visitors can examine photographs of a number of objects already collected. Hinkle especially highlighted the new Internet exhibit, “Latviešu pēdas pasaulē,” which features six objects and tells the story behind each one. (Disclaimer: In addition to being a speaker at the conference, I also played a role in the Latvians Abroad exhibit.)

All in all, it was an impressive showing of what already is available online. The enthusiasm of conference participants suggests we will be seeing more in the future.

A final word

This is my last column as editor of Latvians Online. A couple of months ago, I decided to step down from my position to devote more time to other interests, including my academic research. Daina Gross, who has served as associate editor, takes over as editor. I will continue as a special correspondent. The past 12 years have taught me much about the global Latvian community, as well about the Latvian presence on the Internet. I thank all who have supported Latvians Online and who will continue to do so in the future.

Although the ground is typically still snow-covered and frozen, the spring equinox, called Lielā diena or Lieldienas (The Great Day or Days), marks the middle of spring in Latvian folklore. On this day, March 21, night and day are of equal length.

Despite the empty cupboards at the end of winter, this is a happy holiday. The sun plays a large role at Lieldienas. Everyone celebrates its return and the lengthening days, marking the sun’s victory over darkness. At Lieldienas Latvians eat all kinds of round foods to signify the sun. Breads and sweets are baked in round shapes; puddings and head cheese are made in round molds.

And just as at the Christian Easter feast, Latvians eat hard-boiled eggs at Lieldienas. In many cultures, the egg symbolizes the beginning of life, of the world, and in this case, of a new year.

Ask anyone of Latvian descent, and you’ll hear about eggs wrapped and boiled in onion skins. The result is an array of absolutely beautiful brown, yellow and orange marbled tones. But red cabbage, turmeric, birch leaves, bark, moss and other natural dyes are also used. The dyed eggs tend to have earthy colors. Some people scratch designs into dark colored eggs, but they traditionally do not create intricately colored and decorated eggs like the Ukrainians.

Before you eat an egg, you should find another person with whom to “hit eggs.” Hit the ends together, and usually the person whose egg breaks gives it to the other person to eat. Some families play the other way around: the person with the unbroken egg keeps playing the game until his or her egg breaks, and only then can they eat it.

Spring really is in the air, and people cannot resist anything green. They like to bring lilac branches into the house a week to 10 days before the celebration to force leaves or to sprout oats or wheat berries in shallow dishes. And of course, what would a Lieldienas celebration (or Easter, for that matter) be without pussy willows—pūpoli—in a vase? (Hence, Pūpolu svētdiena, the Latvian name for Palm Sunday. Many of the pre-Christian Lieldienas traditions have been transferred to Christian Easter celebrations.)

Other outdoor traditions should be noted, too. One is supposed to wake up before dawn and wash one’s face in running water, such as a spring or stream. Unfortunately, often the ice has to be broken first and the water is really cold. This is to ensure that you will not be sleepy the coming summer. Also, water is said to have special healing qualities on the morning of Lieldienas. Then, climb the nearest hill and, as the sun peeks over the horizon, greet it with songs. If the sky is clear, this is truly a wonderful sight!

On your way back home make lots of noise to chase all of the birds away. This tradition finds very ancient roots in the belief that birds are the bringers of illness and misfortune. Those who did not wake up early receive spankings with switches and pussy willows. But these spankings are not meant to hurt; instead, they are supposed to bring health and alertness.

Perhaps the most widely practiced tradition associated with Lieldienas is swinging. Much attention is paid to where the swing is hung, as well as to who pushes the swing. The swings are often so huge, that two people at a time climb on and swing while standing up. Everyone is supposed to swing, even if it’s just a couple of slow swings back and forth, to ensure fertility in the coming season, but also so that the mosquitoes won’t bite all summer. The onlookers sing constantly: “Iešūpoja, ielīgoja, kas iekāpa šūpolēs?” (Swing, swing, who climbed onto the swing?). They make up the next verses describing the person on the swing, sometimes praising him or her, sometimes poking fun at or chiding the person. It is a good idea to have a few hard-boiled dyed eggs in your pocket, so that you can “pay” the person who pushes you. This is also a time for young people to flirt.

It’s also worth noting that for the die-hard folklorists in Latvia, the exact date the spring equinox is celebrated changes from year to year. For example, this year – 2012 – the folkorists will be celebrating the pre-Christian Easter celebration on 8th April, the same date this event will be marked on the Christian calendar. This could be for practical reasons, as the 21st March, the date of the spring equinox falls in the heart of winter.

Lieldienas is for the most part a morning festival, although the holiday used to be celebrated for three or four days, as was customary for big celebrations. The day gets off to a very early start, and by the time the meal is finished, it’s not even close to noon.