Many Latvians think of Siberia as a wintry hell that swallowed up thousands of their compatriots during Stalin’s rule. However, in a much less known story, this vast territory is also home to the village of Lejas Bulāna, a place that can probably claim to be the longest surviving Latvian diaspora settlement in the world.

While most Latvians in the West arrived in the same migration flow in the early 1950s, those heading to the East have been a much more varied bunch. During World War I, much of the population of Latvia fled to Russia to escape the invading Germans. Some of them couldn’t return to their homeland after 1918, while many committed communists willingly stayed on. The post-revolutionary Latvians in Russia published newspapers, ran schools and theatres, and provided numerous high-ranking officials in the Bolshevik regime, who were massacred in the purge of the 1930s.

Quite a few who survived the 1940s deportations from Latvia chose not to return home after Soviet leader Joseph Stalin’s death and are still living in Russia to this day. They were joined by thousands of others in the 1960s and 1970s who moved east to take up jobs or join spouses.

The residents of Lejas Bulāna trace their roots back well before these migrations. Their ancestors must have passed on some tough genes, because after almost a century and a half, its 140-odd people still speak the language of their ancestors and have preserved traditions that have died out even in Latvia itself.

Gathering the faithful

The foundation of Bulāna is a tale of sinners and saviours. Long before the creation of the Soviet Union, many people from the Western provinces of the Russian Empire were being deported to Siberia for real or imaginary crimes. By the mid 19th century, the spiritual authorities were becoming concerned about the souls of this scattered flock.

About 1845 the Moscow Lutheran consistory sent a minister by the name of Sederholm to make a survey of their co-religionists in exile. After a journey of some 15,000 kilometres he concluded that it was impossible to minister to such a widely scattered group, and so in 1851 the Russian government ordered that in future all Lutheran deportees should be settled in the Minusinsk district around the southern reaches of the Yenesei River. In 1858 several Latvian and German families settled on the banks of a Yenesei tributary, the Kebezh River, which the people of Bulāna to this day refer to by the very Latvian name Lielupe. Separate Finnish and Estonian villages were also founded in the area.

The people living in Bulāna today are mostly the descendants of these 19th century colonists. Time has erased most memories of these beginnings, but most think that their ancestors came from Kurzeme, the western province of Latvia. One old woman remembers her grandmother recounting how it took her a year to walk to Bulāna.

More can be learned from the memoirs of Jānis Driķis, a teacher in Bulāna at the turn of the century. Driķis wrote that the driving force behind the establishment of Bulāna was a German minister named Kosman, who for three summers travelled from Irkutsk to oversee the colony. He was an energetic man who taught the villagers to build houses, brought in school teachers and tried to correct the wayward path of some villagers who drank away the horses and seeds they had been given for farming.

Kosman said he wished to settle in Bulāna full time and asked the villagers to build him a house and tend some fields to support him. But they objected to what they saw as a reintroduction of German and baronial authority—and sent him packing. Occasional clashes were reported between the German and Latvian residents of the village, but after a few generations it seems that the Latvians assimilated their neighbours.

Other ministers followed Kosman, none of whom had an easy time. One problem was a shortage of women. Because few deportees were allowed to bring their spouses with them and exiles were considered as being divorced from commitments back in their homelands. The villagers refused to have Russian brides and so when groups of deported Latvian women were brought in, both genders were lined up facing each other and instant weddings conducted.

Early in the life of the colony gold was discovered in the nearby Sayan Mountains. Many young men departed to seek their fortunes. Driśis describes the short, turbulent lives of the miners, most of whom returned to Bulāna from the diggings in autumn, caroused away their money, and were indentured by leaders of mine gangs who paid off the drinkers’ debts in return for work.

However, the land proved to be a more durable resource. The rich black soil and short, hot summers of this area allow the growing of many crops, including sunflowers and watermelons. In addition to these natural advantages, Driśis wrote that the sturdier pioneers, often those deported for trivial offences, thrived away from the dominating German landowners in Latvia. Free to chop timber and use meadows where they pleased, the settlers began writing home that they had found a land “where milk and honey flows.” Free settlers began moving in. According to the 1897 Russian census, the village had 910 inhabitants, of whom 786 were Latvians. In that year in Western Siberia as a whole there were 6,768 Latvians, 4,082 Estonians and 2,038 Lithuanians.

This census also reveals the relatively high education level of the Latvian colonists, with 69 percent of men and 60 percent of women aged 20 to 29 being able to read. Fifty-five percent of the Latvians were farmers, with 16 percent engaged in mining or metallurgy.

Credit for the high educational standards may go to the village school established in 1860 and to the church opened in 1886. Both these institutions survived the horrors of the 20th century and are crucial to community life today.

Hell on Earth

After the ravages of World War I and the Russian Civil War, Bulāna never regained its previous population level. In the early 1930s the Communist collectivisation drives forced the farmers out of their freestanding homesteads and into the village proper. The wealthier ones, or those who had simply earned the ire of the authorities for one reason or another, were deported to the far north of Siberia. The old people in the village remember the early years of collectivisation as times of slavery and hunger, as they were forced to work for no pay and could be punished for hiding food from the commissars.

The village church was converted into a social club after its steeple was torn down. Religious books were destroyed. And the saying that he who burns books will soon burn people came to fruition, as Stalin’s mass purges decimated the Latvian population in Russia. Bulāna also fell victim with dozens of men taken away on trumped-up charges and shot.

At least 147 people were executed or deported from Bulāna in the 1930s. Simultaneously, teaching in Latvian at the school was banned, as were all Latvian-language books.

World War II also cut a swath through the village. In the early stages of the German invasion of the Soviet Union, Latvians were not conscripted into the Red Army because they were considered a suspect group by the regime, but this policy changed toward the end of 1941 as the military situation worsened. Starting with the battles near Moscow in late 1941, most of the young men from the village were killed fighting on various fronts. Two surviving veterans still living in Bulāna, Aleksandrs Melbārdis and Roberts Atklībers, both spent a few months in Latvia towards the end of the war when their units were stationed there.

The old villagers remember the years after Stalin’s death in 1953 as a time of relative peace and prosperity. Bans on peasants leaving their villages were lifted and people were paid for their work on the kolkhoz.

And despite the horrors, the village managed to keep its Latvian identity. This was partly due to Bulāna’s isolation: the nearest town of any size is about 25 kilometres away. Until about 20 years ago no roads led to Bulāna, just pitted tracks that became unusable in bad weather.

But most of the credit must go to the women of the village. They maintained songs and folklore and spoke Latvian to their children at home. In the absence of ministers, old women conducted Lutheran services at funerals and christenings. Despite living in an officially atheist state, every single child was baptised, a tradition that continues today even in families where one parent is Russian.

In fact, the people of Bulāna identify themselves as strongly with their religious faith as with their nationality. Lonija Tomane, the village librarian, said that until about the 1950s there was strong family pressure on children to marry other Lutherans, so that ethnic Germans and Estonians were acceptable spouses, but Orthodox Russians were not. Bibles printed in Latvia in the 18th and 19th centuries and hidden during the Stalinist book burnings can still be found in the village.

Hard lives

Lejas Bulāna is not only still in existence after 143 years, but its culture has preserved some traditions that have disappeared in Latvia itself.

Naturally, some Russian words and phrases have become a part of the villagers’ vocabulary, but the dominant language is still that of their ancestors. The Bulāna dialect is clearly understandable to speakers of standard Latvian, but shares some features of the tongue spoken in Ventspils district in northern Kurzeme. Endings of words are chopped off in speech, and there are no genderized pronouns (both males and females are spoken of as viņš, or “he”). Another oddity is that some German words are substituted for Latvian ones, for example, gapele instead of dakša (fork) or ķisenis instead of spilvens (pillow). These words may have been picked up from the Germans who lived in Bulāna in its early years, or it may be that the language in Bulāna has retained elements of speech common in Latvia in the 19th century, when German cultural influence was strong.

Although they complain that their memories are fading, the old women still know many songs. Lots of them are folk tunes that would be familiar to Latvians elsewhere, although the melodies and inflections in the voices have local variations. Another idiosyncrasy is the celebration of Jāņi, Midsummer’s Eve, which still involves Latvian traditions such as bonfires and cheese-making, but takes place two weeks later than in Latvia, in line with the Julian calender that was used in the Czarist Empire before 1917.

However, while Bulāna has done exceptionally well to preserve its past, its future may be bleak. This is largely because the economic decline of Russia since the late 1980s seems to have hit this village especially hard.

Back in Soviet days, the local collective farm employed most of the people, but it has been a failure in the transition to capitalism. Low prices for crops have meant that it makes just enough money to buy seed and fuel from season to season, and just 10 people work for it, often without getting paid. Lack of transport and distances to markets have prevented individuals from selling their crops.

Virtually the only other cash in the village is from pensions and from the salaries paid to the school teachers, which are meagre and frequently in arrears. The people grow all their own food. Life moves to a cycle of planting, weeding, harvesting and milking. The village is electrified, but most houses have hand-operated wells and outside toilets. Alcoholism is a serious problem.

This has led to rapid depopulation. With the school only running to the ninth grade, the pupils complete their education at boarding schools in the surrounding towns. The lack of jobs means that most of them never come back. Only a few children have been born in Bulāna in recent years, while the lack of available spouses means that those few young people who do stay usually intermarry with Russians or Estonians. In most cases, the language spoken in these mixed families is Russian.

Many people in the surrounding districts trace their origins to Bulāna, but they are rapidly being assimilated into the mainstream of Russian society. For example, in the town of Yermakovsk, about 50 kilometers from Bulāna, about two thirds of the population of 5,000 are of Latvian or Estonian descent. But the lingua franca between these people is overwhelmingly Russian.

Also, ironically, fewer people from Bulāna are moving to Latvia now than in Soviet times. Earlier, transport was cheap and people were guaranteed jobs and housing wherever they went in the Soviet Union. Today, the Latvian government does provide no-cost visas to Russian citizens of ethnic Latvian origin, and some money for relocation expenses, but afterwards the migrants have to fend for themselves in a struggling economy. Latvia does not have the means to support them, in contrast to the German government which has spent large sums on repatriating its ethnic minority in Russia.

However, Bulāna is being helped by a factor which at first glance might seem to be its biggest threat: the surrounding Russian population. In recent years, four families belonging to a religious cult that worships a guru named Vissarion have moved in after buying abandoned houses from the kolkhoz (see sidebar). The Latvians in Bulāna are mistrustful of these folk who are both Russians and non-Lutherans, but in everyday life the two groups get along well enough. Three of the cult members teach some subjects at the school, and their children willingly attend Latvian-language lessons with the other youngsters.

The attitude of the Russian authorities towards Bulāna is also quite positive. Local newspapers and television programs have run stories praising its interesting history and culture. The 140th anniversary of the school in July 2000 was attended by numerous dignitaries from as far away as Krasnoyarsk. There is official support for teachers from Latvia who teach extra Latvian language lessons alongside the standard curriculum, which is taught in Russian.

The local Lutheran church is also a force for the good. Lutherans in Russia are a tiny minority, but they have a seminary in St. Petersburg that has trained ministers who now run an active parish in Krasnoyarsk. These Russian-speaking clergymen regularly visit Bulāna to hold services and organise Christian camps for the village children.

Reunion

The last decade has also seen increased contacts with Latvia. Although the links were never entirely severed, they were strengthened in 1975, when two young adventurers literally rode into town. Ingvars Leitis, an historian and journalist, and photographer Uldis Briedis set out in that year to cycle from Rīga to Vladivostok. They told the authorities this was their way of paying tribute to the great Socialist Motherland, but their real agenda was to visit the sites of former Gulag camps and older places where Latvians had settled. Leitis says he was stunned to enter Bulāna and find not an archaeological site, but a living community.

He made several documentary films about Bulāna that were only screened in the late 1980s. Two other film makers, Vaira Strautniece and Andris Slapiņš from the Juris Podnieks Studio in Rīga, also documented the life of the village in the mid 1970s.

The contacts increased during the independence drive. A theatre group from Saldus in western Latvia paid a visit in 1989 and in that same year two young teachers from Latvia arrived to spend a year working in the local school. These educational missions have continued up to the present. Strautniece organised a trip to Bulāna in 1991 by folklorists, philologists, ethnographers and other academics, whose studies were published in a comprehensive book about the village.

The Lutheran church in Latvia has also taken an active interest in Bulāna. A semi-clandestine visitor in the early 1980s was Juris Rubenis, who is now a prominent social commentator and the pastor of the Torņkalna Church in Rīga. Jānis Vanags, the Lutheran archbishop of Latvia, held a service in Bulāna in the summer of 2000 and has promised that pastors from Latvia will make annual visits. This year is the third in succession when the teachers going to Bulāna have come from the Svētā Gregora Christian Academy in Saldus; a young missionary from this school is also preparing to set out to work with the village alcoholics.

Despite its problems, Bulāna has lived through much worse times, and may very well survive into the foreseeable future. Its people’s courage, resilience and pride in their heritage can be an inspiration to Latvians elsewhere in the world.

Sydney, with approximately 4 million inhabitants, is Australia’s largest and oldest city. The first migrants came to Australia from the British Isles and were soldiers and convicts. They unfurled the Union Jack on Jan. 26, 1788, in Farm Cove, now known as Sydney. This date now is commemorated as Australia Day.

Sydney has always attracted immigrants, particularly from Asian countries such as Hong Kong and Vietnam, due to the pleasant weather and the harbour, which makes the city one of the most beautiful in the world.

Sydney’s first Latvians

The first Latvians arrived in Sydney before World War I. Many Latvians participated in the 1905 revolution against the Russian Tsar, and had to leave their home country to escape deportation to Siberia or a lengthy jail term. Quite a few of them found Sydney to be a suitable city in which to live or at least a place for a temporary stay. The number of Latvian escapees from Russia was sufficiently large to form a small society known as Sidnejas Latviešu pulciņš. This little Latvian organisation had a lofty aim: to establish a library with Latvian books, journals and newspapers that may be too expensive for individuals to purchase, and to develop as far as possible the intellectual and moral life of its members, as well as those of non-members. The pulciņš accepted as members all Latvians living in the Sydney area. The group existed until 1926.

In 1930 the Latvian government appointed the Sydney-sider Norman MacLeod as the honorary consul for Latvia, with Kārlis Nicis as his secretary. Nicis, who had recently left Latvia, was the main organiser of two annual events for the Latvians of Sydney: the celebration of Latvian Independence Day on Nov. 18 and Līgo svētki, the traditional midsummer festival.

Between the world wars the number of Latvians in Sydney changed very little. But after World War II, quite a few Latvian refugees came to Australia from the Displaced Persons camps of Germany. If the Latvians of Wollongong and Newcastle were included, then Sydney formed the largest Latvian community in Australia.

Displaced Persons arrive

The newcomers developed an active social and cultural life. Sydney initiated a Latvian Cultural Festival (Kultūras dienas), which was later staged annually and hosted in turn by Latvians in all the capital cities of the states of Australia. In 1955 the Latvians of Sydney also initiated the Australian Latvian Theatre Festival and in 1964, the Australian Latvian writers’ seminar (Rakstnieku dienas). Unfortunately, the last of these writers’ seminars took place in 1992 due to a lack of new authors who write in Latvian.

In 1951 the Sydney Latvian Society (Sidnejas latviešu biedrība) was formed. It still thrives and is the centre of most Latvian activities in Sydney. Each month the Sydney Latvian Society publishes an information bulletin called Ritums, which covers all the Latvian cultural, religious and sporting activities in Sydney and keeps its readers informed of the main events in Latvia. The newsletter is subscribed to by over 800 Latvian families, not only in Sydney, but also in other parts of Australia. Before Latvia regained its freedom in 1991, the society also published books in Latvian.

The main centre of Sydney’s Latvian cultural and community activities is the Latvian House (Latviešu nams) owned and run by the Sydney Latvian Society at 32 Parnell Street, Strathfield. This building complex also houses the Latvian consulate and a Latvian bookshop. In the late 1990s the Sydney Latvian Credit Cooperative merged with the Australian Latvian Credit Cooperative of Melbourne. An office is still maintained in Sydney and is housed in the Latvian House.

Numerous other organisations use the facilities of the Latvian House for rehearsals, meetings, performances and various other activities. On Saturday mornings Latvian children go there to improve their Latvian language skills and to learn about the country where their grandparents were born. The Latvian House is home to both the Sydney Latvian Society’s primary school and its high school. In addition, until 2005, matriculation classes in Latvian were held in the Strathfield Girls High School buildings nearby, as part of the New South Wales Department of Education and Training’s School of Modern Languages program. This opportunity to learn Latvian as a matriculation subject ceased in 2005 because student numbers dropped below a certain level nationwide.

Two Latvian choirs are active in Sydney. A men’s choir, Sidnejas latviešu vīru koris, meets for rehearsals at the Latvian House every Monday night. A mixed choir, Sidnejas latviešu jauktais koris, meets every Tuesday. For many years there were two folk dancing groups in Sydney, but due to a lack of new dancers, only one still exists. Jautrais paris, formed in 1950, rehearses every Friday night. Jautrais paris also forms one part of the well-travelled Saules josta ensemble, which is well known by Latvians around the world for its performances incorporating traditional Latvian song and dance.

The Sydney Latvian community is very proud of its theatre company, Sidnejas latviešu teātris, which recently celebrated its 50th anniversary. The stage at the Latvian House used by this group is the largest in the area and is also used by the Strathfield Musical Society for staging various operas and musicals. The artistic community, united under the Association of Latvian Artists (Australijas latviešu mākslinieku apvienība), holds art exhibitions for groups of Latvian artists or individuals within the Latvian House complex.

Another group which has been very active in the Sydney Latvian community and has its own club and bookshop at 49 Stanley St., Bankstown, is the Latvian Welfare Association “Daugavas Vanagi” and its ladies’ auxiliary. Since Latvia restored its sovereignty the association is mainly concerned with helping families and old soldiers in Latvia. The organisation’s membership outside Latvia consists mainly of World War II veterans and their families, hence both membership and their activities are gradually declining.

For many years one of the most popular events attracting visitors from within and outside the Latvian community has been the annual exhibition of the craft society, Sieviešu rokdarbu kopa Sidnejā. This group comprises mainly women who are experts in Latvian handicrafts. The membership of this group is both aging and decreasing as young Latvians have little time for organised participation in craft activities.

More activities for older Latvians

As the average age of Sydney Latvians increases, a growing number of activities are being organised for retirees within the community. The most popular of these are the monthly gatherings for seniors, known as “Senioru saieti,” that include lectures, film viewings, social events and excursions.

In Sydney, as in many Latvian communities, there are a number of active academic fraternities and sororities. The joint gatherings of both the fraternities (Korporāciju kopa Sidnejā) and the sororities (Studenšu korporāciju kopa Sidnejā) take place in one of the many rooms of the Latvian House.

Sydney has two Latvian Lutheran and one Catholic congregation. The oldest Lutheran congregation, Sidnejas ev.-lut. latviešu draudze, has a church (St. John’s) designed by Latvian architects and built by members of the congregation. The church is located at 30 Bridge St., Homebush. Behind the church is a hall that hosts a Sunday school and is the venue for various events mainly run by the congregation. The minister for this congregation is the spiritual leader of the Latvian Lutheran church in Australia, the Rev. Dean Colvin McPherson. The second Lutheran congregation, Latviešu ev. lut. Vienības draudze, shares the Uniting Church (on the corner of Morwick Street and The Boulevard in Strathfield) with other congregations. The minister is Pastor Raimonds Sokolovskis.

Since the death of its priest, the Latvian Catholic congregation has mostly been integrated into the local Australian Catholic congregations.

The administration of the Latvian Federation of Australia and New Zealand (Latviešu apvienība Australijā un Jaunzēlandē) and the associated Cultural Fund rotates every three years between the three main Australian cities: Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney. Currently, Melbourne is the seat of this umbrella organisation, which oversees and coordinates the political and cultural activities of the Latvian communities throughout Australia. Sydney, which held the post from 2000-2002, will take over this role again in 2009.

Radio broadcasts in Latvian can be heard on the multicultural Special Broadcasting Service (SBS Radio 2 on 97.7 MHz FM) from 4 p.m. to 5 p.m. on Wednesdays and from 5 p.m. to 6 p.m. on Saturdays. The SBS broadcasts are transmitted alternately from Melbourne and Sydney.

Also active in Sydney are various local sporting groups. Olimpija organises regular golf and novuss tournaments. Spars and Daugava are particularly active in basketball, with Spars currently fielding two men’s basketball teams in regular competition as well as running regular training sessions for junior players. The New South Wales Latvian Sporting Association also organises annual swimming carnivals and tennis competitions for Latvians living in the Sydney area.

Latvian youth still active

Although the Sydney Latvian community is undoubtably aging and activities organized by the Latvian House mainly cater for senior members, the Sydney Latvian Society actively encourages and promotes youth activities. With musically-talented Viktorija Mačēna at the helm, various musical activities are held at the Latvian House annually and national youth gatherings both from a cultural and musical perspective have helped the younger generation to develop a strong sense of pride in its heritage. The younger generation’s involvement in Sydney Latvian Theatre performances is also noteworthy. The Latvian Society has a very welcoming and open attitude toward the youth in the community and may serve as an example to others as an organisation that embraces the ideas of its younger members.

Why did Latvians come to Queensland? Unlike many other migrant groups seeking a better economic life, Latvians came here to escape oppression by foreign rulers in their native land in two distinct phases—as a small number of individuals prior to World War I and as part of large groups during a concentrated period from 1948 to 1952.

Individual Latvians settled in Australia in the 19th century, but significant numbers arrived only after the 1905 Revolution as political exiles. The 1933 census records 427 Latvian-born persons living in Australia, of these 80 in Queensland. A Latvian organisation may have existed in Brisbane around World War I. If so, it did not last and there is little written evidence of this first wave.

Postwar immigration and settlement to 1990

Latvians, together with Estonians and Lithuanians, were the first ethnic groups in the large postwar immigration wave of “displaced persons” from Europe that started in 1947. It has been estimated that some 17,000 persons born in Latvia, and a further 2,500 persons born elsewhere but of Latvian origin, settled in Australia between 1947 and 1952. Including prewar settlers, by 1952 about 20,000 Latvians were living in Australia.

Queensland was a less popular destination than the southern states because many feared its hot and humid climate. Probably about 1,500 people of Latvian origin came to Queensland, though a figure of 2,000 has also been mentioned. They started to arrive in 1948 and settled mostly in or near Brisbane, but in smaller numbers also in Rockhampton, Mackay, Townsville, Cairns and Mount Isa. The early years were primarily spent in establishing a new life, attaining economic security and buying or building a home.

Many had to study, while holding down other jobs, to have their previous qualifications recognised or re-established. Parents had learnt that education was the only thing of value that could be carried by a refugee or migrant. Children were therefore encouraged and assisted to obtain a good education, preferably at the tertiary level and leading to a professional qualification. Despite coming to Australia without capital and belongings, Latvians quickly and successfully adapted to life in Queensland and became reasonably secure economically.

Latvian community life commenced as soon as a few hundred people had arrived. The first Lutheran church service for Latvians, attended by 54 people, was held Nov. 24, 1949, albeit in German. On Jan. 14, 1950, a Latvian choir was founded. The first church service in Latvian was held in March 1950. The Brisbane Latvian Association started work in January but was formally founded on April 15, 1950. A second Latvian congregation was established on Oct. 14, 1951. Soon both congregations ran a Latvian school on Saturday mornings, which later merged into one school. A Latvian folk dance group was started in October 1951 and youth educational courses in October 1952. A Queensland branch of the worldwide Latvian Relief Society Daugavas Vanagi was established on Jan. 30, 1952. Within two years all essential religious, educational, social and cultural activities were fully operational.

Over the years other groups developed: Boy Scouts and Girl Guides, associations of university students and graduates, basketball and volleyball teams, and the Okers group of painters. Several theatre ensembles emerged, first under the wing of the Brisbane Latvian Association, then of the Latvian Relief Society Daugavas Vanagi, and most recently of the Latvian House-Saule Ltd. They have performed plays by Latvian authors, but also translations of plays from English and other languages. Independent theatre groups also have been active. Youth music ensembles have performed Latvian folk or popular music. The Brisbane Latvian Association’s library, a literary group, two private Latvian book and craft shops, and a book publisher fostered other aspects of the Latvian community’s life. Gradually a Latvian section developed in Hemmant Cemetery as people of Latvian origin were buried there.

Since 1953 the various organisations and groups have held quarterly meetings to coordinate the calendar of community events and to tackle common tasks. Newsletters were produced separately by the larger organisations to keep members informed, but since 1985 a joint newsletter, Brisbanes Ziņotājs, serves this need.

In the early years local Australian Lutheran congregations provided not only moral support but also made available their churches and church halls for Latvian services and community functions. In time, however, it was felt that the Latvian community should have its own premises. For this purpose a registered company, Saule Ltd., was formed Oct. 22, 1955, to secure funds and acquire a suitable property. On Sept. 1, 1960, the purchase of a former Seventh Day Adventist Church in Buranda was completed. It was quickly altered to provide a stage for theatrical performances and space for a library and gave a new physical focus for the Latvian community. Later the construction of the South-East Freeway enabled additional land to be acquired for future enlargement of Latvian House, but these plans took a long time to reach fruition. Helped by a Queensland government grant, the extended and improved premises were finally opened on Oct. 31, 1987. Latvian congregations continued to use existing Lutheran churches, particularly the Nazareth Church in Woolloongabba.

All these activities served the internal needs of the Latvian community, but also provided a vehicle for forging links with the wider Australian community. Thus, one of the first engagements of the Latvian choir was to perform at a Lutheran gathering in Toowoomba Town Hall in March 1950, and the Latvian folk dancing group regularly performed at many community events. Soon the Latvian community took on an even bigger task—the staging of the 4th Australian Latvian Arts Festival in Brisbane in December 1954. This festival, held in rotation in the various capital cities of Australia, has since been staged in Brisbane on seven other occasions in 1958, 1962, 1970, 1975, 1981, 1988 and 1993.

Outstanding individuals

Many dedicated people have given long years of voluntary service to the Latvian community and, in acknowledgement of their contribution, Latvian Community Prizes have been awarded to 49 people. The following have also received Commendation Awards from the Latvian Federation of Australia and New Zealand for service to the Australia-wide Latvian community: Andris Auliciems, Arvids Biela, Andris Francis, Osvalds Freibergs, Valdis Gertners, Irēne Kūkums, Jānis Kūkums, Ēriks Ozoliņš, Oskars Rudzītis, Arnis Siksna, Māra Siksna and Paulis Sprincis.

Some outstanding individuals have also received Australian and Queensland awards. Ēriks Ozoliņš was awarded a Medal of the Order of Australia in 2000 for service to the Latvian community, particularly as a composer for and conductor of the Brisbane Latvian Choir. He conducted a male octet and choir from 1950 to 1953, and the Brisbane Latvian Choir since 1953. In the 1980s he also started to compose choir music. Latvian choirs in Australia and overseas have included his compositions in their repertoire. Earlier he received the Queensland Migrant Service Award in 1993 for his service to the Latvian community, in particular for the creation of harmony and goodwill and the preservation of Latvian heritage through his outstanding contribution. Jānis Kūkums received the Queensland Migrant Service Award in 1988 for service to the Latvian community. He was involved in the work of many Latvian organisations, being the president of the Brisbane Latvian Association for 36 years, its vice president for seven years and the Queensland vice president of the Latvian Federation of Australia and New Zealand for 27 years. He was also the chairman of the organising committee of three Australian Latvian Arts Festivals in 1954, 1958 and 1962. His work extended beyond the Latvian community and for over 10 years he took part in the New Settlers League of Queensland and The Good Neighbour Council of Queensland.

The Premier’s Award for Queensland Seniors who have rendered outstanding service to the community has been awarded to Maksimilians Sprīvulis (1992), Paulis Sprincis (1995), Jānis Kūkums (1996) and Tālis Lundbergs (1999) for their many years of work in the Latvian community.

Several individuals of Latvian origin have made a significant contribution in the arts: Andris Toppe as a ballet dancer and choreographer; Jānis Balodis as a playwright, in particular exploring the lives of Latvian settlers in his trilogy of plays “Too Young for Ghosts,” “No Going Back” and “My Father’s Father.” Ināra Švalbe, a ballet dancer, has also directed a ballet school for many years, was the founding director of the Australian Youth Ballet which performed from 1978 to 1990, and in 1985 was made an Officer of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to dance.

The community today

After 1952 there were very few additional Latvian migrants, but the number of persons of Latvian origin grew for some time as younger generations went through childbearing stages. However, it has been almost impossible to provide meaningful estimates of the size of the Latvian community in subsequent years due to several complicating factors. Census data records only “Latvia-born” persons, though recently it also records people who speak Latvian at home. Even were it possible to relate these two sets of figures, it would still be hard to quantify the total Latvian community because many Latvia-born persons no longer speak Latvian at home and take no part in the Latvian community. According to research by Aldis Putniņš, in 1981 Australia had 18,800 mono-ethnic Latvians (first-generation Latvians and all subsequent generations whose parents are both Latvians) and 12,000 people of part-Latvian descent, with some 2,340 (7.6 percent) living in Queensland. In the 1986 Census 1,941 Queenslanders stated that they had Latvian ancestry, even though only 732 people spoke Latvian at home. In the 1996 Census there were 1,918 people of Latvian origin (758 first generation and 1,160 second generation), but of these possibly only about 500 still speak Latvian at home.

Census records of Latvia-born people in Queensland show that their number has declined from 1,179 in 1954 to 1,083 in 1961, 980 in 1971, 918 in 1981, 885 in 1986 and 758 in 1996, despite a small increase to 913 in 1991. It is interesting to note that the proportion of Australia’s Latvia-born people living in Queensland has steadily increased from 6.8 percent in 1954 to 9.4 percent in 1996 probably due to retirees moving here from southern states. About 58 percent now live in Brisbane, with smaller communities in the Gold Coast (109 persons), Sunshine Coast (45), Wide Bay-Burnett (35) and Cairns (22). Almost all Latvia-born are now aged 50 years or more. People in Latvia have been able since 1991 to freely travel to Australia, but they have mostly come to visit friends and relatives or to study. The Latvian community in Queensland is therefore unlikely to increase through future emigration from Latvia, but may continue to receive a small inflow of retirees from other Australian states.

As a result of the above factors the Latvian community has gradually become smaller and older in its composition. Following the exciting community foundation phase in the 1950s, and a period of consolidation during the 1960s and 1970s, the community was slowly moving into an established routine of activities in the 1980s. However, in the period from 1988, starting with the surprising birth of the independence movement in Latvia, the political struggles to escape from the Soviet Union, the restoration of Latvia’s sovereignty in 1991, and concluding with the first elections for Latvia’s Parliament in 1993, the community received a new boost to its political, cultural and social life. As events unfolded in Latvia, monthly meetings were held to inform the community of these developments. Political demonstrations and actions were held jointly with local Estonian and Lithuanian communities to enlist the support of Australian politicians and communities for the cause of Baltic States’ independence. A joyful celebration by the Baltic communities was held in a packed Latvian House in August 1991 when this had been achieved.

This was followed by several years of renewing links with people and cultural and political life in Latvia. Much effort went into providing humanitarian aid to the homeland in the form of parcels of food, clothing, medicines, and books. Financial assistance was also given for the restoration of churches, cemeteries and memorials, and the establishment of the Occupation Museum commemorating Latvia’s years under Soviet and German occupations. These activities gave renewed purpose to the Latvian community and once again involved many second and third-generation people who had distanced themselves in previous years. In 1992 an Australia-Latvia Friendship Society was established and continued until 1995 as a focus for those who had only recently become aware of their Latvian origin or links. Several younger members of the community went to Latvia to help in the rebuilding of the country’s political and economic life and some may settle there.

The importance of these external concerns and endeavours has gradually lessened as life in Latvia started to proceed in a more normal manner, and the Latvian community has refocused on its local life and issues related to a significantly smaller and older population. Gatherings of retirees have supplanted more youthful social functions of earlier times, and events are held more often during daytime than at night. A ramp has been constructed at Latvian House to allow easier access for the elderly and disabled.

Consequently the nature of community life has changed recently, but it has also generated new kinds of activities. One of the most popular are monthly meetings sponsored by the Home and Community Care Resource Centre’s Community Options Program, at which senior citizens are informed about issues of concern to them. Perhaps as an outgrowth of these, a senior citizens folk dance group was formed and gives regular performances of dance, song and humorous skits.

The community organisations

Almost all essential community organisations were established between 1950 and 1952, several have celebrated their 45- and 50-year anniversaries, most still exist today and a few have been created more recently. A summary of Latvian organisations (with foundation dates stated in parentheses) and their activities is outlined below.

• Brisbane Latvian Association (April 15, 1950) holds regular literary and social meetings, and represents the Latvian community externally. It also has a library of more than 3,000 Latvian books and periodicals.
• Brisbane Latvian Association Choir Beverīna (Jan. 14, 1950) gives one or two concerts a year and participates in other community events, as well as in Australian Latvian Arts Festivals.
• Queensland Latvian Evangelical Lutheran Congregation (Nov. 21, 1987) was formed by amalgamation of two earlier congregations, Brisbane Latvian Evangelical Lutheran Congregation (May 21, 1951) and Brisbane Latvian Evangelical Lutheran Māra Congregation (Oct. 14, 1951). Monthly services are conducted by a deaconess from Sydney or by lay members.
• Latvian Relief Society Daugavas Vanagi, Queensland Branch (Jan. 30, 1952) holds regular social and recreational events and raises funds for various Latvian community needs in Australia and for aid to Latvia.
• Latvian House – Saule Ltd. (Oct. 22, 1955) owns and maintains the premises at 24 Church Court, Buranda, which serve as the venue for most Latvian community events.
• Folkdancing Group Senatne (October 1951) was very active until its 50th anniversary in 2001, but has now lapsed. However, a new group, the kokle ensemble Zigrīda Ansamblis, in recent years has given annual performances and participated in other community events, as well as in Australian Latvian Arts Festivals and Youth Festivals.
• Crafts Group (Feb. 19, 1984) meets monthly and holds an annual fundraising event for local community needs and for aid to Latvia.
• Senior Citizens Folk-dancing Group Senči (Feb. 12, 1996) gives annual performances and participates in other community events.
• Brisbane Latvian School operated school classes on alternate Saturday afternoons but activity has lapsed since 1999.
• Student fraternity and sorority associations meet occasionally and hold an annual commemoration of the founding of the University of Latvia.
• Latvian Federation of Australia and New Zealand has a Queensland vice president who maintains liaison with local organisations and arranges an annual campaign to raise funds for various Latvian community needs in Australia and for aid to Latvia.

The economic and multicultural contribution

Because Latvians came to Queensland as political refugees rather than voluntary migrants, they were more concerned with preservation of their ethnic origins and cultural heritage than in making their mark in terms of economic prosperity or in the wider Australian community. Their main contribution has been as hard-working and law-abiding citizens, and they have placed few demands on the Australian community, according to Putniņš. Most first generation Latvians and their children have fitted easily into the general community and have achieved economic security. A very high proportion (84 percent) of Latvia-born people own or are purchasing their home, a greater proportion (15.8 percent) than the total population has a degree or diploma, and many (42.2 percent) have managerial, administrative and professional occupations. Amongst them are many doctors, dentists, engineers, academics, teachers and surprisingly about a dozen architects, of whom four had their own practices in 1980s. Builders, retailers and others running small businesses also have been counted among the Latvians, but the main economic contribution has been in the professions.

The Latvians have also made a contribution by accomplishing a true sense of multiculturalism in a uniquely quiet and effective manner. From the early years right up until the present they have preserved their own language and ethnic heritage, largely with their own resources. While focusing on the internal needs of the community, they have continuously also brought their arts, crafts, dances and songs to Australian audiences. They have integrated into the Australian community unobtrusively, clearly demonstrating an ability to live comfortably in two cultures and languages—surely the real essence of a multicultural society.