Syrian Today, Latvian Tomorrow?

Readers of this portal who have been following news in Latvia will know that for some time now, one of the more passionately (and quite often ridiculously) debated issues in this country has been the European refugee crisis and, specifically, the fact that all European Union (EU) member states are expected to take in their share of the people who have been flooding across the EU’s borders in record numbers in recent times. More nationalistically inclined members of our society have occasionally gone to fairly hysterical extremes in opposing the whole idea — the refugees might be terrorists! They might bring unknown and scary diseases to our country! Bring in one, and he will bring in his whole extended family, and soon we will be overrun by foreigners! Latvia and Latvians are in danger! The white race is in danger! (This last claim, which is beyond ludicrous on the face of it, really did appear on a few posters at a demonstration that was held a month or two ago to say “no” to refugees as such.)

The truth is, of course, that Latvia is not being asked to accept thousands upon thousands of refugees. The truth is that right now the expected number is 776, or 0.00038% of the country’s two million or so residents. Clearly that is not a number that will in any sense destroy the nation or its people. Yes, if the chaos in the Middle East continues unchecked (and now that Russia has made it clear that it is going to take part in the process without any checks or balances whatsoever, it is likely that it will continue unchecked for some time to come), there may be greater numbers of refugees whom Latvia is asked to accept, but even then it will not be millions.

There are several aspects to consider here. First of all, it is clear that not everyone who is crossing the Mediterranean or using a land route to get to Europe is fleeing for his or her life. Plenty of people are simply looking for a better life for themselves, and they are people who are classified as “economic migrants” and, therefore, not worthy of the status of true refugees. Thus, for instance, European countries have busily been sending back home migrants from places like Kosovo, where yes, life is probably rough, but no one is threatened by the kind of annihilation that we are seeing in Syria and the Middle East in a broader sense. That said, I do believe that there is a moral obligation to take in anyone, and let me say again — anyone who manages to escape a territory that is currently being controlled by the so-called “Islamic State.” That is a group of terrorists that goes completely beyond the pale, slaughtering anyone who does not comply with its very narrowly drawn understanding of what “proper” religion is. Residents of those areas have reason to flee, and there is every reason to believe that they should be given sanctuary. Yes, there is the consideration that those who are getting into rickety boats for the perilous crossing of the Mediterranean have chosen not to move to refugee camps in Syria’s neighboring countries, instead looking toward Europe as purely a better place to live, but in this case, that should not make much difference.

As to Latvia’s situation, despite what some foolish populists have been claiming, the government has drawn up fairly specific plans about what to do when the refugees start arriving, probably in December or January. They will first be placed in a refugee center at a place called Mucenieki, which is being expanded and renovated for that purpose. There they will stay until their status is determined. If it is found that they are truly refugees, they will be granted the relevant status, and after the three months are up, they will be released from the center and told to make their own way in life. During the process, refugees will receive subsidies from the government to cover basic needs. They will be stingy subsidies, the government having yielded before pressure from those who point out that the initially planned monthly stipend was rather much higher than the old-age pensions that many people in Latvia receive, and the sum has been cut even before the first refugee has arrived, but money will be made available for that purpose nonetheless.

What kinds of people can we expect? Well, first of all, it is not the case that all of those who are fleeing the Middle East are of the “unwashed and poor” variety of which America’s Statue of Liberty speaks. A survey that was released this week shows that plenty of them have completed a high school or university education. Latvians should understand this. Back in the 1940s, many of those who fled to the West in the face of a second Soviet invasion were members of the intelligentsia. It is specifically for that reason that at the so-called “displaced persons” camps in Germany where most of them first ended up, Latvians could set up schools, theatrical companies, opera troupes, etc. Throughout the Western world, Latvians organized social and political organizations, Saturday, Sunday and summer schools, song festivals, churches, and so on. That would not have been possible if everyone who left Latvia had been uneducated. The same is true of Syrians and Iraqis who are currently running for their lives.

One fact in all of this is that because of fairly massive emigration of Latvia’s residents to England, Ireland and other Western European countries (and here let us be perfectly clear that in every single case, these are “economic migrants” in the direct sense of the words), lots of businesses in Latvia have problems finding workers. On my television show a month or so ago, a sculptor called Ivars Drulle said that he would happily hire three or four refugees to help out at his farm – cut down bushes, help repair the barn, and so on. He said that his neighbor is a car mechanic who has been utterly unable to find anyone who can come and help out. Perhaps among the Syrians there might be someone who knows a thing or two about automobiles. Or putting up a barn. Or, in the case of the Ķekava poultry factory, which has also said that it needs workers, handling chickens and eggs.

Of course, it is unlikely that Latvia is the dream destination for most of the current refugees. Ours is not a rich country, we do not have anything close to the social care system that exists in Scandinavia and elsewhere, our winters can be nasty.   Those who say that nearly all of the refugees actually want to move to Germany, Sweden, or some other comparatively rich country are right. The thing is, however, that the distribution system that the EU has cooked up about this says that those who are sent to Latvia are going to have to stay in Latvia at least for a year or two. If they are found elsewhere in the EU, they will be shipped back to Latvia. And that, in turn, means that the real issue here is how the people of Latvia will receive these poor unfortunates.

It was a decade or more ago that a group of Somalians turned up in Latvia. They spent their three months and Mucenieki, and then they were basically thrown out into the streets. It was their enormous good fortune to run into a woman who knew the saintly Reverend Juris Cālītis, who recently retired as pastor of St Savior’s English Congregation in Riga. He personally took the Somalis in at the home that he runs in Latvia’s countryside for abused children. He personally contacted hotel owners and others to say that he had these Somalis, and could the businesspeople find work for them? Today, one of the Somalis has died, but the others have learned Latvian and have become a part of this country’s society.  It was the personal touch that allowed them to do so.

There is also evidence that there really are people who are happy to make new lives for themselves in Latvia. A couple of weeks ago there was a report in a newspaper in which a young man from Iraq at Mucenieki said that he really wants to get to work, he’s prepared to do any job at all, and all that he needs is for the government to grant him the appropriate status. Another newspaper report was about Vietnamese and Chinese people who are in Latvia because they bought real estate here and thus qualified for a residency permit in return for their investment. The Asians talked about how they were working hard to learn Latvian, one Vietnamese woman saying that she wants to become a “Latvian woman” as soon as possible, even though the Latvian language is not the easiest one in the world to learn. In another interview, a Vietnamese man who has been living here for some time and has become so familiar with the Latvian world that he has drawn comic books about the legendary hero Lāčplēsis, said that he, too, likes living here, though every winter he decamps back to Vietnam for a couple of months because it’s just too darn cold here.

So the bottom line here is that there is no real reason to fear the refugees. Latvia has never been a mono-ethnic country, there have always been others here. If the country and nation managed to survive 50 years of Soviet occupation and the relevant mass influx of people from the “brotherly” Soviet republics, then surely it can survive 776 desperate people from the Middle East. All that is needed to understand that they are not some amorphous mass. They are all people just like us, with their own hopes and dreams and aspirations. It would be terrible to simply turn them away.

Kārlis Streips was born in Chicago, studied journalism at the University of North Illinois and University of Maryland. He moved to Latvia in 1991 where he has worked as a TV and radio journalist. He also works as a translator and lecturer at the University of Latvia.

Superheroes, manga and Latvian folk outfits – Dziesmu svētki in San Jose

One of my favorite coffee mugs has wisdom from A Prairie Home Companion taking up one side – it ends with the admonition “Drink your coffee. It’s not the best you’ll ever get, but it’s good enough.” At the risk of damning with faint praise, the sentiments on that mug came to mind during the 16th West Coast Latvian Song Festival in San Jose, California. The event ran from September 3-7, 2015, and while it is the smallest of the North American diaspora song festivals, that’s merely a question of scope.

San Jose was an excellent location. The weather was mild and sunny, and the proximity of the venues to one another was ideal. All of the hotels were within a few blocks, and only the church in which the Sacred Music Concert was held was more than one street crossing from the festival headquarters. The fact that a Comic Con was being held next door added some interesting juxtapositions – girls in superhero and manga outfits striding next to girls in Latvian folk outfits, and I had never before ridden up in a crowded song festival elevator with zombies mixed into the fray. Better yet, a bacon festival in the adjoining park on Saturday and Sunday added truly unique meal options based on an ingredient near and dear to Latvian hearts.

The festival featured enough ticketed events to keep a person busy, but not so many that a person couldn’t, with enough stamina and fortitude, experience them all AND find time to eat. Perfect! On one end of coffee spectrum – approaching “If not the best I’ve ever seen, then in the ballpark” were the Sacred Music Concert and the popular music/multimedia event “Here We Are”. Both featured a mix of professional and highly experienced amateur musicians and benefitted from obvious attention to detail.

While the sold-out Sacred Music Concert was of high quality throughout, the middle portion, performed by the choir Cantus Fortis from Latvia and conducted by Ivars Cinkuss, was especially fresh and unique. “O, Salutaris Hostia,” featuring sopranos Ginta Rūse and Jūlija Norvele, was the subject of much after-event praise, as was the inclusion of “No sirds slavēsim Mariju.” “Here We Are” was completely different in tone, but just as big a crowd-pleaser. A cabaret-type show featuring a finely coordinated mix of music, text, and multi-media aspects, it sailed through this challenging premise with hardly a glitch. If there was similarity between some numbers, it hardly mattered – there was always something to watch, listen to, feel, and laugh about, and it was all executed splendidly.

The comedic play, Precies, māsiņ’ (Marry, Little Sister), seemed the event closest to the “Not the best I’ve ever seen” end of the scale. The actors, all professionals from Latvia, were unquestionably talented, the play did draw laughs, and the audience certainly appreciated Guntis Veits’ musical numbers; however, the plot and continuity reminded me of little more than a summer camp skit, stretched out to feature length. “OK…you’ll sing… then we’ll have some jokes, mug it up a bit… then you’ll sing again…” “Wait, why will he sing?” “Who cares? But…ok…how about if she gets all worked up, mugs some more, so I’ll ask him to sing to calm her down?” “Yeah, yeah, that’ll work!” Polishing the script and eliminating a few cheap jokes would have served this event well.

In between, the folk dancing event did not have the precision of the events in Latvia, but everyone seemed to have a good time. The music, which was a mix of live and recorded, was fun, yet another dash of multi-media added to the feel, the few “oh no, I forgot what comes next” moments resulted in no pile-ups, and the tiny tot moments were as charming as ever – kids trying to dance and simultaneously watch themselves on the large screens was a new cute moment subgenre. Similarly, while the combined choir concert also had a few lesser moments, most numbers, notably the Latvian Seasons Cantata, conducted by its composer, Maija Riekstiņa, were crowd-pleasers, watching Juris Ķeniņš conduct is entertaining no matter what the singers do, the chestnuts Gaismas pils and Tēvijai were done justice and with no concerns whether the soloist in the latter would wipe out, and Tev mūžam dzīvot, Latvija and Pūt vējiņi, sung with audience participation, were emotional as ever.

To round out the schedule, Sunday morning’s religious events were both well-attended and well-received by participants. Evening musical events were all rollicking good times: the folklore group Lāčkāja played on Thursday, the group “All Folked Up” on Saturday, and Adam Zahl provided dance music for the holiday ball on Sunday. The greetings at the opening ceremony were kept to tolerable levels, and though seating at the festival banquet went off the tracks, everyone eventually ate well and enjoyed themselves.

The marketplace offered the usual and the unusual in jewelry, clothing, noshes – did you know Lay’s makes creamy mushroom-flavored chips for European markets?! Those sold out quickly – music, and other Latvian goods. There was a small art exhibit, a corner room contained a zolite game for a while, novuss games at other times, and displays by Latvian organizations of various stripes filled the hallways.

And then there were the intangibles, and those, of course, make a song festival more than just a series of events. The first friends you meet in the hotel lobby (“I didn’t know you were coming!!”), hearing Latvian spoken by strangers passing by as you eat lunch in an outdoor café (and of course calling out a greeting), being there when a choir spontaneously breaks into song en route to a concert, seeing people you haven’t seen in (fill in ridiculous amount of years) since (which event was that?).

In short, the coffee and the song festival were both just fine, thank you very much!

 

 

 

Garezera 50. jubilejas svinības – ko domā apmeklētāji?

Jūlija sākumā Garezers svinēja savu 50. jubileju. Uz svinībām bija sabraukuši no visas plašās Amerikas latvieši, kuriem Garezers ir mīļš un kā “otrās mājas”. Lēš, ka ap 2,000 latviešu sabrauca uz Garezera svinībām no 2. līdz 5. jūlijam. Pēc svinībām Latvians Online intervēja vairākus G50 svinību dalībniekus.

Kāpēc jūs piedalījāties G50 svinībās?

Nevarēju nebūt! (Daina Bolšteina, Vašingtona)

Kopā ar pārējiem Frikadeļu zupistiem (pēdējo reizi kopā spēlējām apmēram 35 gadus atpakaļ) bijām lūgti uzstāties sestdienas Palooza notikumā Atbalsīs! (Laila Medne, Filadelfija)

Ieplānojām dalību G50 svinībās savā ASV brauciena laikā (dzīvojam Latvijā pēdējos 8 gadus), jo tā mums bija prioritāte.  Gribējām atdot pateicību un cieņu tiem, kam bija vīzija izveidot Gaŗezeru, kā arī tiem, kas gadu gaitā, tāpat kā mēs abi ar vīru, esam to cēluši, veidojuši, attīstītījuši.  Bija liela vēlme vienuviet satikt savus bijušos klases biedrus un draugus un baudīt svinību programmu, priecāties… (Vanda Dauksta, Latvija, ex-Čikāga)

Biju Garezera svinībās, tādēļ ka piedalos Garezera Sagatavošanas skolā, kā audzinātāja šogad. Vēlējos arī pieredzēt Amerikāņu latviešu kultūru, un iepazīties ar Amerikas jauniešiem. (Laila Grosa, Melburna, Austrālija)

Gaŗezers ir mana dvēsele. Es sāku apmeklēt Gaŗezeru kad man bija apmēram 8 gadi. Es biju Indrānos. Pēc nometnes (pirms tā laika kad bija GSS) es pārgāju uz absolvēju GVV 1982. gadā kopā ar 53 citiem burvīgiem, sirds draugiem. Kurš būtu domājis, ka tagad mans vecākais dēls ir jau absolvējis, un jaunākais ir GVV III. klasē, ka Gaŗezers vēl būtu? Pirms četrām vasarām es gadījos vienā kabīnē kur vācām iekšā mūsu puišus lai apmeklētu GSS, un mēs trīs saskatījāmies, mēs trīs, kas pavadījām MŪSU jaunības gadus Gaŗezerā, tagad dodam to tālāk mūsu bērniem. Tā bija baigi forša sajūta. (Maira Galiņa, Bostona)

Ko Garezers jums nozīmē?

Daina: Es esmu Gaŗezera bērns. Manas mūža pirmās vienpadsmit vasaras pavadīju Gaŗezerā, dzīvojoties pa Dzintariem un vēlāk pāris nedēļas katru vasaru apmeklējot bērnu nometni. Tad piecas vasaras apmeklēju GVV un to absolvēju. Pēc tam arī strādāju Gaŗezerā. Gaŗezers man saistīts ar tik daudz atmiņu, tik daudz draudzību, un vasaru bez tā vispār nevaru iedomāties. Kaut man šajās dienās jāceļo 500 jūdzes, lai tur nokļūtu, es to daru reizi vasarā, lai varu vismaz 2-3 dienas tur pavadīt – vidi baudīt un draugus satikt. Kāds cilvēks esmu, un kā saredzu latvisko šajā pasaulē un manā dzīvē, ir pa lielai daļai saistīts ar to, ko esmu Gaŗezerā iemācījusies un piedzīvojusi.

Laila M: Turpinājums – izglītībai, latvietībai, izaugsmei, tuvām draugu saitēm.

Vanda: Sarēķināju, ka esmu kopumā pavadījusi vairāk nekā vienu savu dzīves gadu Gaŗezerā.  Tā nozīme manā dzīvē, ne tikai laika ziņā,  ir neizsakāmi liela.  Pirms Latvija atguva savu neatkarību, Gaŗezers bija mana Latvija. Gaŗezers man nozīmē vietu kur:

    – ieguvu zināšanas par Latviju un latvisko;
    – izveidoju draudzības mūža garumā (to skaitā – mēs ar vīru iepazināmies Gaŗezerā, tur laulājāmies un svinējām kāzas, tur kristīti mūsu bērni);
    – esmu gan saņēmusi/baudījusi latvisku audzināšanau un kultūru, gan pielikusi savu roku/balsi to veidojot;
    – ir mana sabiedrība, kur varu atpūsties un priecāties – latviski.

Laila G: Garezers man nozīmē – vieta kur sanāk latvieši no visiem Amerikas štatiem un izbauda latviešu kultūru.

Maira: Man Gaŗezers nozīmē vietu, kurā es piedzīvoju savu pirmo īsto mīlestību, vietu kur man bija pirmā buča, vieta kur es sadraudzējos ar sirds draugiem un draudzenēm, kuri ir mani vismīļākie draugi vēl šodien. Gaŗezers man nozīmē vietu, kur latviešu jaunieši satiekas un nodibina mūža draudzības – vislabākās un vismīļākās.

g50-2

Ko sagaidījāt no šīm svinībām?

Daina: Sagaidīju, ka būs daudz cilvēku, un tā arī bija—Gaŗezerā sabrauca milzums daudz cilvēku. Satiku krietni daudz draugus un paziņas, kurus nebiju sen redzējusi – tas vienmēr jauki. Sagaidīju, ka sarīkojumi būs saistoši un labas kvalitātes, un arī tas piepildījās.

Laila M:  Tikties ar ilgi neredzētiem draugiem, paziņām, izbaudīt mūziku, uzvedumus, Māras Pelēces filmu.

Vanda: Sagaidījām nostaļģisku atskatīšanos uz pirmiem 50 gadiem.  Sagaidījām saviļņojošu programmu.  Sagaidījām prieka asaras un smieklus, skaistas sarunas. Sagaidīto arī sagaidījām/piedzīvojām!

Laila G: Sagaidīju daudzus pasākumus, un daudzus latviešus sapulcējušos vienā vietā. Tā arī bija.

Maira: Tieši to, kas bija – draugi, labs laiks, tikšanās, smiekli, ciemošanās, vienreizēji koncerti, notikumi un pāri pār visu, viss bija ELEGANTI noorganizēts! Cepure nost rīkotājiem!

Kas visspilgtāk paliks atmiņā no svinībām?

Daina: Dokumentālfilma “Satiksimies Gaŗezerā!”, vispirms tādēļ, ka tas kaut kas paliekošs, ko varēs vēl ar citiem dalīties. Otrkārt tādēļ, ka to ar simtiem gaŗezernieku ezermalā noskatīties bija vienreizējs piedzīvojums. Iepriekš likās, ka cilvēki varbūt uzmanīgi neskatīsies, jo tie gribēs ciemoties un sarunāties. Reiz, kad filma iesākās, iestājās klusums, un skatītāji patiesi dzīvoja līdzi – applaudēja, smējās, vienā punktā pat dziedāja līdzi! Man īpaši aizkustināja, ka spontāni izcēlās aplauss, kad filmā pieminēja prāvestu Vili Vārsbergu, bez kura Gaŗezers nebūtu. Beidzot tādēļ, ka filma ļoti labi atspoguļo Gaŗezeru, tā garu un tā pievilkšanas spēku. Arī paliks atmiņā tas, ka galvenajai svētku programmai Dziesmu leja bija skatītāju pārpildīta – tik daudz cilvēku tur tiešām sen nebija bijis. Koncerts pats bija skaists un piemērots, un to skatītāji arī izbaudīja. Īpaši jauki bija novērot ar kādu sajūsmu un prieku gan GVV jaunieši, gan citu pilsētu tautas deju kopu dejotāji uzstājās. Kad koncerta beigās mēs visi piecēlāmies kājās, sadevāmies rokās un dziedājām “Pūt, vējiņi”, tad jau visādas emocijas tika spilgti izjustas.

Laila M: Kopsajūta pēc lielā jubilejas akta. Bija ļoti daudz cilvēku, pilna Dziesmu leja, kad kopīgi noslēdzām vakaru dziesmā šūpojoties un aizvadot saulītes starus.

Vanda: 

    1. Māras Pelēces filmas noskatīšanās – gan pati filma (kurā, šķiet, katrs varēja ieraudzīt kautko, kas atspoguļoja viņa/s Gaŗezera piedzīvojumu), gan filmas seanss – voleja laukumā 2 stundas visiem acis pielīmētas pie ekrāna, mutes kaktiņi nepārtrauktā smaidā…
    2. Uzvedums Dziesmu lejā – no kora un deju priekšnesumiem līdz ballītei…
    3. Koncerts visas dienas garumā Atbalsīs
    4. Dievkalpojums, kurā māc. Anita Vārsberga sprediķa laikā no altāra nofotografēja sevi un visu draudzi selfijā, lai uzsvērtu to, ka katrs esam daļa no kautkā lielāka….
    5. Atzīšos, ka man tādā negatīvā atmiņā paliks uguņošana. Nepārprotiet – tā bija augsta līmeņa, iespaidīga un ar Gaŗezerā vēl nepieredzētu “WOW” faktoru.  Pie tam atzīmējot 4. jūliju, ASV neatkarības svētkus – vietā, kur latvieši 50 gadus brīvi saglabājuši latvisko identitāti un kultūru. Par to, cepure nost, gods godam un paldies ASV.  Bet dūņezera malā sēžot, acīm žilbstot, mani pārņēma skumjas par šāda veida naudas iztērēšanu. Saprotu, ka uguņošanu noziedoja un paldies arī ziedotājiem par to. Bet nebija ne latviskās pieticības, nedz vienkāršības skaistuma. :-(  Un naudiņu būtu varējuši izmantot lietderīgāk….

Laila G: Visspilgtāk man atmiņā paliks sestdienas vakara koncerts, kuram sekoja Pērkons koncerts un pēc tam DJ-Aiva. Man ļoti patika, kā pirmais koncerts bija salikts, iesaistot gan tautasdejas, gan koru dziesmas, sakombinējot dažādas lietas par Garezeru.

Maira: Koncerts Dziesmu lejā sestdienas vakarā bija nepārspējami aizkustinoši burvīgs.

Kādu jūs saredzat Garezera nākotni?

Daina: Kaut daudz lietu Gaŗezerā nav pa gadiem mainījušās, tomēr maiņas ir redzamas un tā tas turpināsies. Varbūt dotajā momentā grūti iedomāties, ka Gaŗezers vēl pastāvēs 50 gadus, bet 20-30 gadus tas, lēnām mainoties un šodienas apstākļiem kaut cik pielāgojoties, katrā ziņā vēl varēs turpināt darboties kā latviešu kulturāls centrs, satikšanās vieta, un bērnu un jauniešu izglītības iestāde.

Laila M: Es vēlos redzēt Gaŗezeru kā spēcīgu latvisku vidi, kur jauniešiem piedāvā izcilu programmu un dod iespēju pašiem izveidot savu latvisko “es”.

Vanda: Bijām klāt paneļdiskusijā par šo jautājumu G50 svinību laikā. Arī neformāli ar klases biedriem šo pārrunājām.  Bez šaubām tas ir sāpīgākais/sarežģītākais jautājums, kas Gaŗezera veidotājiem stāv priekšā. Jo — grūti iedomājams tāds Gaŗezers “for God and Latvia”, ja nu tas ir bijis (un tam jābūt?) “Dievam un Latvijai”. Kā nodrošināt pēc iespējas daudziem augsta līmeņa programmas latviešu valodā, cenšoties vienlaikus iesaistīt latviešus, kuriem valodas zināšanas ir vājas? Saredzu, ka arvien lielāku lomu ņems audzinātāji un skolotāji no Latvijas.

Laila G: Garezers man šķiet turpināsies ļoti ilgu laiku, te ir nākotne jauniešos, kuriem ir liels gribasspēks uzturēt šo latviešu kultūru.

Maira: Kamēr cilvēki ņem aktīvu dalību, un dzen Gaŗezeru uz priekšu, piekopj visu, kas darāms (fiziski uzturēt Gaŗezeru ir neticāmi grūts darbs), Gaŗezers pastāvēs. Vai ar laiku tas pāries vairāk uz divvalodu līmeni? Grūti teikt vai spriest, ļoti iespējams, BET te vēl arvien pastāv ļoti dedzīga latvietība. Vai ar laiku būs maiņas? Noteikti, bet cerams ka tas gars un tā jušana, kas iesēžas jauniešu dvēselēs nekad nezudīs. Var tikai cerēt.