Latvian refugee’s memoir captivates reader at many levels

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Sometimes the best way to absorb the events and flow of history is through autobiography, especially one that manages succinctness with an elegant style. The Amber Coast: A Latvian Family’s Journey by Ilse Zandstra, née Ilze Zālīte, is captivating at many levels.

The saga of one family’s contented life in Latvia rudely interrupted by the Soviet and Nazi occupations and then ejected like refugee flotsam to many countries is both similar and different from that of several hundred thousand Latvians who fled the Red Army and ended up in the West. The Zālīte family, with two children and carrying only minimal possessions stuffed in a few suitcases, was forced to leave Latvia to avoid a one-way trip to Siberia. They left their prized possession of an Opel Kadett automobile on the docks of Liepāja.

The post-Latvia odyssey was determined in large measure by the nautical engineering profession of Jānis, the sometimes gruff and wilful head of the family. His reputation as a competent and unusually loyal ship specialist became a guarantee of sustenance and survival in chaotic circumstances. The family settled first in Poland, then in Germany, followed by Sweden and finally Montreal, Canada. All these locations provided work in shipyards for Jānis.

The memories of the disruptive changes are recorded from the perspective of a small girl, called Ilzīte by her father, and from her extended interviews of father Jānis, together with information gleaned from letters, documents, clippings, photographs and testimony of a large bevy of relatives.

The major framework of the book and the catalyst for a renewed interest in the history of her family’s wartime and post-war experience was precipitated by a return trip to Latvia in the summer of 1990. Together with her father, Ilse was signed up for a trip on a special chartered Swedish ship, the Baltic Star, also known as “Happy Ship” and the “Baltic Bible Banana Boat.” At that time, Latvia was still a part of the USSR but undergoing profound changes that ultimately led to full independence one year later.

Valuable insights are provided by the initial clash of beliefs, values, ideologies and guilt placement as the Western branch of the family interacts with the relatives “left behind” in Latvia. Misunderstandings and disappointments from both sides reflect the experience of most Western Latvians on their first contact with the homeland.

The author’s keen eye for the subtleties of human interaction and body language provides much material for reflection on what a half century of separate Communist and Western socialization (brainwashing) can accomplish. The trip to Latvia becomes a catalyst for Ilse’s newfound interest in her own background: “My trip to Latvia awakened in me a desire to know more about my past and that of my family.”

Ironically, Ilse, like many immigrant children, had been reluctant to publicize her Latvian heritage, preferring to blend in with the local Swedish and then Canadian culture and language. She even rebelled at her parent’s insistence on using Latvian in conversations with her older brother, Peter. Yet, half a century later, the seeds of Latvian attachment, so adamantly inculcated by her parents on a reluctant soul, finally found a resonance in their daughter. This ancestral echo bloomed and renewed a curiosity about her Latvian roots and the fate of her extended clan both in Latvia and abroad.

Besides the incursions into various episodes of refugee life, tribulations and survival adaptations, the book provides a very detailed portrait of the indomitable patriarch, Jānis Zālīte. He is the type of individual who best represents the protestant work ethic and the Germanic attachment to ordnung. Indeed, his mother was of German origin and taught him this language and culture. His Latvian father, an upwardly mobile teacher, ended up working in Moscow where Jānis was born in 1907.

Throughout life, Jānis abided by the motto of his Latvian fraternity, Tālavija, “darbs ceļ vīru” or “work makes the man.” His type is also the ideal fountainhead of self-reliant entrepreneur who adapts to all curve balls thrown by unusual circumstances. His industriousness was best reflected in a Displaced Persons camp in Oldenburg, Germany, where he decided to start a woodworking shop employing 30 people rather than sitting and waiting for orders from the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration. The shop successfully created wooden clothes pegs, clogs, toys, benches and large solid suitcases for future expected moves. However, this example of free enterprise did not sit well with the bureaucrats and the shop was forced to close. Fortunately, at that point Janis received an invitation from a Swedish shipyard in Goteborg and the family left this deadend, crowded refugee camp.

There was also the other side to Jānis that permeates many of the conversations between father and daughter, best reflected by the phrase, “Do not interrupt, Daughter!” Indeed, this father-knows-best philosophy was very deeply ingrained in most Latvian families of that vintage. The author summarizes the essence of this cultural thread: “In many ways, my Father was much like his father. Both were strict disciplinarians, and both expected their orders to be obeyed without question. No talking back. No questioning authority.”

The book incorporates many vignettes of Latvian history and culture in a style similar to that of Modris Eksteins in his book, Walking Since Daybreak. Indeed, Ilse claims that she was inspired to write her own story after reading Eksteins book.

The dialogue for the most part is punchy and easy to follow. Stylistically a major contribution is the author’s almost poetic capture of certain emotional events that most Latvians hold dear. For example, her description of the Latvian Song Festival in 1990 on the eve of Latvia’s independence, in an outdoor stadium with over 200,000 attendees and 20,000 singers is a classic of concentrated visions and emotions:

All of a sudden, a loud hum fills the air like a giant swarm of bees as the singers start to limber up their vocal chords. First and second soprano,alto, tenor, and bass, their voices vibrate in an ageless, mystical Ooommm. Folk songs are my homeland’s prayers, its collective memory, its history and lament, even its armour during times of siege or occupation. The refrains can be poignant as the end of summer, or as happy as sunlight dappling white birches. Music is the voice and mood of my people, with one recurring theme, love of their country, and tonight is a night for unrestrained patriotism, for celebration. High up on a specially erected platform and looking no bigger than an insect, a white-gloved conductor stands; with a leap and great sweeping motions of his arms, he starts up the twenty-thousand massed choirs. Sweet notes burst from the singers’ mouths. The conductor sways this way and that, and the music follows him. He spreads his arms wide, and then lifts them, and the melody swells, filling the night with music. The audience is enthusiastic, rivalling the best rock concert crowd. We clap and cheer and shout bravo, over and over.

The book is of obvious interest to all Latvians and a great resource for children and grandchildren of Latvia’s refugees. It is a great source for Latvia’s inhabitants whose knowledge of the exodus of their brethren is woefully inadequate. More importantly, the book has the literary and psychological qualities that can be used as a base of study by all those who want to delve deeper into the psyches of new arrivals in a new land.
One can of course question certain sequence divisions of the book and the purposely stilted phrases attributed to Latvian relatives in the homeland. Another edition of the book should very definitely include an introductory scheme outlining all names and their relationship to the main characters.

The book will suscitate introspection and comparisons for many Latvians abroad. It will bring back memories and may be a catalyst for conversations between generations. In any case, the book is “a good read”” and very entertaining in its own right and should help to provide valuable context to those interested in researching Latvian history, culture and interpersonal relations.

Details

The Amber Coast: A Latvian Family’s Journey

Ilse Zandstra

Tamarac, Fla.:  Llumina Press,  2010

ISBN 978-1-60594-569-9

Where to buy

Purchase The Amber Coast: A Latvian Family’s Journey from Amazon.com.

Note: Latvians Online receives a commission on purchases.

Remnants of 19th century Industrial Revolution found around Latvia

Bānītis

The Kč-4-332 steam engine was restored in 2005 and runs on the Alūksne-Gulbene narrow gauge railway line. (Photo courtesy of the Industrial Heritage Trust of Latvia)

The Industrial Revolution was born in 18th century Britain with the cotton mill, advances in metallurgy and the harnessing of steam to mechanize production and transportation. Society was transformed as labourers abandoned the countryside and small workshops to work in factories that in turn spurred the rise of modern industrial cities.

Although steel manufacturers and shipyards can be traced back to the Duchy of Courland and Swedish Vidzeme in the 17th century, Latvia had to wait until the 19th century before it was hit by large-scale mechanization. The first modern factory in Latvia was the cast iron foundry and machine shop Wörman & Sohn, founded in Rīga in 1832. Textile and paper mills and tobacco factories soon followed.

The 1870s and 1880s saw the explosion of large-scale industry as Rīga became a major industrial centre in Czarist Russia. Liepāja also followed. Industrial enterprises that became known throughout Russia included the Russo-Baltique carriage factory, which later produced tanks and airplanes; the Leutner & Co. bicycle factory; the Phoenix carriage factory, which went on to build automobiles; the electronic concern Union, which later became the renowned VEF (Valsts Elektrotehniskā Fabrika, the State Electrotechnical Factory); rubber manufacturer Provodnik; the Waldschlöschen Brewery, which is still in existence as today’s Aldaris; Wolfschmidt’s distillery; A. Kriegsman cork factory; the naval workshops in Liepāja; the Līgatne paper mill, and many others. The names of these enterprises attest to almost exclusive ownership by Baltic Germans.

On the eve of World War I, there were 1,032 industrial enterprises in Latvia and the 753 biggest ones employed 108,565 labourers. During the war, the machinery from many factories was evacuated to the Russian hinterland, severely setting back industry in independent Latvia.

The Industrial Revolution also saw the mechanization of transportation and the introduction of railways, which stimulated manufacturing by providing a cost effective method to distribute manufactured goods. The railroad arrived in Latvia in 1860 when the Warsaw–St. Petersburg line crossed eastern Latvia through Daugavpils and Rēzekne. A year later the Rīga–Daugavpils line was completed and was then connected to the rail network in Russia. It stimulated the growth of Rīga’s harbour. Liepāja and Jelgava were connected soon afterwards. By 1877 there were 799 kilometres of railways in Latvia. At the turn of the 20th century, the construction of narrow-gauge railways began as branch lines to connect rural towns. They fell into disuse in the 1950s and 1960s as the automobile and trucks took over. The last of the narrow-gauge lines survives on the 33-kilometre run from Alūksne to Gulbene and is now a popular tourist attraction.

Industrialization required labour and 19th century Latvian factories were fuelled by newly enfranchised but landless peasants and labourers who flocked from the countryside to the towns and cities. The population of Rīga ballooned. Between 1881 and 1900, for example, it jumped from 169,000 to almost 300,000. Factories were concentrated in newly founded industrial districts such as Sarkandaugava, a few kilometres downstream from Rīga on a branch of the Daugava River. One of its main arteries is still named Tvaiku iela (Steam Street) and attests to the area’s industrial roots. Workers were housed in two- and three-storey rooming houses that sprang up around the factories. These neighbourhoods helped spawn Jaunā strāva (the New Current social democratic workers movement) and were the breeding grounds for the violent 1905 Revolution that exploded in Rīga and spread to the rest of Latvia as workers rose up against their German and Russian overlords demanding better working conditions including shorter hours and higher wages.

Other technology and communication milestones in Latvia include: the first postal station established in Rīga under Swedish rule in 1632 and linked with Jelgava, Liepāja and Konigsberg; building of a pontoon bridge across the Daugava by Swedish army engineers in 1702; the first hot air balloon flight over Jelgava in 1785; an optical telegraph or semaphore telegraph line that crossed Latvia on its way from St. Petersburg to Warsaw; the first telegraph line strung between Riga and Boderāja in 1860; the opening of the Rīga Polytechnic Institute in 1862; the establishment of a water utility system in Rīga driven by steam powered pumps in 1863; laying of an international underwater telegraph cable between Liepāja and Denmark in 1868; the 1874 introduction of the omnibus or horse drawn carriages as a means of public transport in Rīga; horse drawn streetcars and a telephone exchange that could handle up to 3000 subscribers in 1882; the introduction of electric lighting in factories in 1884; showing of the first movie film and introduction of imported automobiles from France in 1896; the first electric street cars in Rīga as well as the opening of the Smiltene hydroelectric plant, both in 1901; electric power transmission with the 1905 opening of the thermal power plant at Andrejsala; the roll-out of automobile taxis in Rīga in 1907 followed a year later by intercity bus transportation; and the first powered aircraft flight in Latvia that lasted 56 seconds in 1910. One would be remiss not to mention the 1937 start of the mass production of Minox, the world’s smallest camera, by VEF.

Latvia is also home to two survey points of the Struve Geodesic Arc, a chain of survey triangulations stretching from Norway to the Black Sea established between 1816 and 1855 by Tartu-based Russian scientist Friedrich Georg Wilhelm von Struve (1793-1864)  in order to measure the Earth. Both points are in the UNESCO World Heritage List. One is in Strūve Park in Jēkabpils and the other is at Sestu Hill or Ziestu Hill south of Ērģļi.

Fast forward to 2001 when the Industrial Heritage Trust of Latvia was founded to survey, research, preserve and promote Latvia’s industrial, scientific and technical legacy. It was the successor to the Latvian Technical Monument Trust established earlier in 1992. The trust is a non-profit volunteer organization that unites researchers, academics, engineers, architects and enthusiasts.

The trust has published a number of books including No Leitnera līdz Ērenpreisam. Velosipēdu rūpniecība Latvijā 100 gados, which is a history of bicycle manufacturing in Latvia between 1886 and 1963; Vidzemes bānītis, a history of the narrow gauge railroad between Alūksne and Gulbene; the multi-lingual publication Latvijas industriālā mantojuma ceļvedis or Guide to Industrial Heritage of Latvia; and Dzelsceļi Latvijā or Railroads in Latvia, published separately but one of whose authors is a board member of the trust. Some publications can be found in Rīga bookstores, while others like the guide are hard to find and are best sourced by directly contacting the trust.

The trust has also initiated a number of projects including the restoration of the Kalnienas railway station and the 2005 restoration of a Kč-4-332 steam engine, both on the Gulbene–Alūksne line as part of the international SteamRail.Net program; the restoration of the Gr-319 steam engine; the assessment of heritage railroad stations across Latvia; participation at various international conferences; and the creation of a comprehensive database of industrial heritage sites.

Defining objects of interest for the trust was not quite as easy as it sounds. According to the trust’s Chairman Andris Biedriņš (no relation to the NBA basketball star), one could argue that castle ruins and hill fort sites that date back to the ancient Letts and the Teutonic Knights could be included along with later military fortifications such as the Daugavgrīva fortress at the mouth of the Daugava River re-built during Swedish rule. Likewise in other countries, remnants of Roman smithies might be objects of interest along with 19th century foundries. The trust had to draw the line somewhere and it focuses on industrial objects enabled through modern manufacturing, construction and communication technologies that took root in Latvia primarily in the 18th and 19th centuries in what is commonly called the Industrial Revolution.

The Guide to Industrial Heritage of Latvia lists 230 objects of interest divided into the following categories: factories and manufacturing plants; water and wind mills; thermal and hydro electric power plants as well as sub-stations; roads and bridges including viaducts, postal relays stations and mileposts; railways and railroad stations; lighthouses, harbour pilot towers, dams, dikes, canals and dry docks; public utilities such as transit, water supply systems and fire halls; as well as fortresses, fortifications and cannons. Although objects are scattered throughout Latvia, the largest concentration is in Rīga, followed by Liepāja.

Objects of interest to the trust also include those from the modern era. For example, a 2,000-square-metre bunker 9 metres underground near Līgatne and fully equipped with electric generators, air conditioners, water supply and waste disposal and telecommunications equipment was meant to house Soviet Latvia’s leadership in case of nuclear war. The 32-metre radio telescope near Ventspils was taken over from departing Soviet forces and is now run by the Latvian Academy of Sciences. A number of former Soviet rocket bases like the one at Zeltiņu township in north east Latvia are also in relatively good shape.

The state of Latvia’s industrial heritage sites varies, according to Biedriņš. In good shape are facilities like the fire station on Hanza Street in Rīga that now houses the Firefighting Museum of Latvia or the gas reservoir on Matīsa Street that converted into a sports hall. Most facilities are not and suffer from neglect and lack of interest by officialdom and public alike who see little aesthetic or economic value in them. Many are in danger of being torn down, but there are signs that Latvia may yet be re-evaluating seemingly derelict industrial sites as is the case in many western cities.

Brewer Aldaris, owned by Danish brewing conglomerate Carlsberg, took Latvia’s Office for the Protection of Cultural Monuments to court to contest additional demands by the office regarding preservation of 19th century structures on its site. Aldaris lost the case.

The chalk factory at Ķīpsala, an island on the left bank of the Daugava, has been converted to residential dwellings by architect Zaiga Gaile. She has been one of few architects in Latvia to see the potential of industrial structures. Another is the particularly ambitious urban renewal project on Andrejsala, an industrial port area of Rīga that is slated to be transformed into a mixed use neighbourhood with offices, dwellings, open spaces, stores, entertainment, galleries and museums. Although most existing structures will be demolished, a number of industrial heritage buildings such as the decommissioned thermal power plant and a grain silo will be refurbished as cultural hubs highlighting the area’s historic links. Latvia’s economic crisis has stalled development, but in the meantime Rīga’s avant-garde has seen Andrejsala’s potential and galleries, nightclubs and concert venues have moved in.

Those interested in visiting industrial heritage sites should note that many owners are reluctant to host visitors. Given that many sites are derelict, safety is also a concern. The best approach is to contact the Industrial Heritage Trust of Latvia. It offers a number of tours including the Lighthouses of Northern Kurzeme, the Gulbene–Alūksne narrow gauge railroad, and a trip from Ventspils to Liepāja with various stops. Small groups can set their own itinerary in Rīga. Some sites do accept visitors and the trust’s guide provides contact information. The guide also lists 23 technical and engineering museums in Latvia.

For further information about the Industrial Heritage Trust of Latvia including contacts, visit the trust’s website at www.i-mantojums.lv.

Provodnik factory

The imposing pre-World War One Provodnik rubber factory in Sarkandaugava. In its time, it manufactured tires, galoshes, linoleum and rubberized fabrics. It is now owned by the Rīgas Electro Machinery factory. (Photo courtesy of the Industrial Heritage Trust of Latvia)

Vējdzirnavas

The Ūziņu windmill in Zaļenieku township southwest of Jelgava dates back to the 1880s. (Photo by Viesturs Zariņš)

NATO would defend Baltics from Russian attack, WikiLeaks reveals

Nine divisions of U.S., British, German and Polish troops could be called on to defend the Baltic states and Poland in the event of an attack from Russia, according to a secret NATO defense alliance contingency plan revealed by the WikiLeaks organization.

The plan, reported on Dec. 6 by the Guardian newspaper in London, would include Latvia, Estonia and Lithuania along with Poland in a regional defense strategy called “Eagle Guardian,” according to one diplomatic cable. Its approval was urged by Germany.

The document is one of about 250,000 U.S. diplomatic cables the WikiLeaks organization says it has acquired and is releasing on its website and through several newspapers.

U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton in January signed off on the NATO plan, according to the cables, the Guardian reported. The plan is part of an effort to refocus NATO’s defense strategy.

Latvia in 2004 joined NATO along with Bulgaria, Estonia, Lithuania, Romania, Slovakia and Slovenia. Under Article 5 of the NATO defense treaty—originally approved in 1949—all members of the alliance agree to defend each other in the event of an armed attack. However, the Guardian noted, “the three Baltic states have complained they are treated as second-class members because their pleas for detailed defence planning under NATO’s ‘all for one and one for all’ article 5 have been being ignored.”

Although economic relations between the Baltics and Russia have improved, political tensions remain. Russia has frequently alleged Latvia and Estonia discriminate against their large Russian-speaking minorities.  In 2007, the Guardian story reminded readers, a cyber-attack against Estonia was suspected to have originated in Russia. Last year, Russia staged military exercises that simulated an invasion of the Baltics and a nuclear attack on Poland, the newspaper reported.

The contingency plan pleased Latvia, according to a December 2009 cable from the U.S. Embassy in Rīga posted on the Guardian website.

Kaspars Ozoliņš, director of security policy in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, “expressed his government’s profound happiness” at the plan, according to the cable.

The contingency plan apparently also was discussed during last month’s NATO summit in Lisbon, Portugal.

NATO leaders adopted a new and broad Strategic Concept during the summit. The document is meant to serve as a roadmap for the alliance over the next 10 years. It reaffirms NATO’s principle of mutual defense, but also opens the door to increased cooperation with Russia.

“NATO-Russia cooperation is of strategic importance as it contributes to creating a common space of peace, stability and security,” according to the Strategic Concept. “NATO poses no threat to Russia. On the contrary: we want to see a true strategic partnership between NATO and Russia, and we will act accordingly, with the expectation of reciprocity from Russia.”

Latvia leaders—including President Valdis Zatlers, Defense Minister Artis Pabriks and Foreign Minister Ģirts Valdis Kristovskis, all of whom attended the Lisbon summit—endorsed the Strategic Concept, saying the document strengthens the country’s defense.

Zatlers is scheduled to visit Russia from Dec. 19-21.

Andris Straumanis is a special correspondent for and a co-founder of Latvians Online. From 2000–2012 he was editor of the website.