Urā! Latvia live on NBC!

“Well, it’s our five seconds of fame,” said Pēteris Stāks. Speaking to a reporter via his mobile phone Friday night, Feb. 8, Stāks had not yet heard of his and others’ success in convincing the NBC network to air the Latvian team’s appearance in the opening ceremony of the Salt Lake City Olympics.

Stāks was standing outside Rice-Eccles Olympic Stadium, watching a direct feed (rather than the NBC broadcast) of the ceremony on a large television screen.

He was the spark behind Salt Lake City broadcaster KSL-TV’s “adopting” Latvia as its team, an effort that was rewarded by a promise from NBC Sports Chairman Dick Ebersol that this year the network would indeed show the team. In all other Olympic Games since the country regained independence, Latvia’s appearance on U.S. television screens has been preempted by commercials.

According to KSL news anchor Bruce Lindsay, Ebersol said that NBC would still cut to commercials before Latvia’s appearance, but that the network would record the moment and show the team’s entrance right after the commercial break.

Instead, NBC waited until the team had started its entrance, long enough to see a live broadcast of hockey player Harijs Vītoliņš carrying his country’s flag and leading the rest of Team Latvia into the stadium. Meanwhile, NBC’s co-host for the opening ceremony, sportscaster Bob Costas, noted the significance of the moment.

“They score points with an effective campaign to appear on television during this opening ceremony after years of being relegated to commercial oblivion,” Costas said.

According to reports posted to the Latvians Online forum and the SVEIKS discussion list, television viewers in Australia, Canada and Germany (and, of course, Latvia) saw the entire Latvian team during the opening ceremony. Television commentators in Canada and Germany noted the Latvian effort to convince NBC to broadcast the team’s appearance.

What U.S. television viewers didn’t get to hear was the cheer that went up when the Latvian team entered the stadium, Stāks said.

“It was definitely above average,” he said.

Latvia on NBC

Millions of television viewers in the United States saw Latvian hockey player Harijs Vītoliņš carry his country’s flag in the Parade of Nations during the opening ceremony of the Olympics broadcast on the NBC network. (Photo by Andris Straumanis)

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

Even before Olympics, Latvia creates buzz

With all the buzz in Salt Lake City these days about Team Latvia, who needs a medal in the Winter Olympics? Come Friday evening, Feb. 8, that buzz may just turn into a roar as Latvians across the United States watch the opening ceremony on the NBC television network.

If the indications from Salt Lake City are true, the national TV audience finally will get to see the Latvian team march into Olympic Stadium.

Unlike other recent games, the run-up to the 2002 Winter Olympics has seen an unprecedented amount of attention focused on Latvia—in Salt Lake City and beyond.

"There’s buzz on the street. People stop me and ask me about Latvia," Bruce Lindsay, a news anchor for local station KSL-TV, told Latvians Online. That’s because the station has been giving Latvia nightly coverage ever since Salt Lake City resident Pēteris Stāks told Lindsay how the country’s athletes repeatedly have been passed over during the opening ceremony telecast.

In Washington, D.C., and in Boston, meanwhile, Gunārs Zāgars has generated his own buzz. It started with an opinion piece he wrote for The Washington Post, which resulted in a story about him in The Boston Globe.

Across the United States, many Latvian-Americans now know the names of Lindsay, Stāks and Zāgars. In Latvia, the news that Latvia is in the news is once again news.

And, of course, getting a medal or two wouldn’t be bad for Latvia’s image, either.

TV station adopts Latvia

It all started in January, when Stāks e-mailed KSL and noted that during the past five Olympics, Latvia’s team has not been shown on network broadcasts of the opening ceremony. In each case, commercials have replaced the Latvian team’s appearance on millions of television sets around the United States.

KSL called Stāks to the studio Jan. 17 and Lindsay interviewed him on the air. Lindsay also promised KSL viewers that the station would broadcast regular updates about Latvia.

Since then, KSL has frequently highlighted some aspect of the Latvia story, including a look at the hockey team, an item on a recent survey that found Latvia is among the most optimistic countries in the world and a piece on sixth graders at a local elementary school who made lap quilts for the team, according to the broadcast monitoring service Utah News Clips. Also planned, according to Lindsay, is an interview with President Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga, who will be in town to cheer the Latvian team. The Rīga-based Latvian Institute, among others, has been providing information to the TV station.

Responding to KSL’s frequent "Latvia Update" segments, and perhaps aware of continued complaints about Latvia’s disappearing act, NBC Sports Chairman Dick Ebersol told Lindsay in a televised Jan. 31 interview that the Latvian team indeed will be shown this year. NBC, which owns the rights to broadcast the Winter Olympics in the United States, will still break for commercials before the Latvians enter the stadium, Lindsay said, retelling the interview with Ebersol. But as soon as the commercials are over NBC will air videotape of the Latvian team.

A spokesperson for NBC Olympics in Salt Lake City could not be reached to confirm the plan.

Although KSL is an NBC affiliate, Lindsay said the station’s jabs at the network have not caused trouble. "They seem to roll with it," he said.

Stāks admitted to being a bit surprised at how easy it was to get NBC to bend.

"We tend to grouse, we tend to complain, rather than trying to get things done," he said of Latvians. The Salt Lake City community of Latvians totals about a dozen, according to Stāks. He and three others are volunteering at the Winter Olympics.

For his part, Lindsay said, he’s been surprised at how much response the station’s commitment to Latvia has received. KSL’s broadcast signal is received throughout Utah as well as in parts of Idaho, Wyoming and Arizona, while a satellite signal is available in places like Portland, Ore. But e-mails have come from far and wide.

"You have a very supportive community," he said of Latvian-Americans.

Although he’s never visited Latvia, Lindsay is no stranger to the country. "My eighth grade geography report was on the Baltic republics," the news anchor recalled.

"The eminent pride in the nation is really astounding," he added.

Stopping the rain

In the Boston suburb of Westford, Gunārs Zāgars had finally had enough after watching the NBC telecast of the opening ceremony of the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney, Australia. He told Latvians Online he began penning a letter to the editor, but by the time it was finished it had turned into a 1,500-word op-ed piece. Editors at The Washington Post accepted the piece, but suggested that it might be better to publish the article closer to the 2002 Winter Olympics.

And that’s what happened. Zāgars’ bylined article, "Dear NBC: Stop Raining on Our Latvian Parade," ran in the Jan. 27 edition. The article discussed his family’s disenchantment with the continual snubbing of Latvia and other nations. During each of the five Olympics since Latvia regained independence, they had looked forward to seeing the Latvian flag and the Latvian team.

"But coverage of the opening ceremonies in 1992 broke for commercials before the Latvians were introduced and resumed after they had passed by," Zāgars wrote. "The same thing happened in 1994. And in 1996. And in 1998. Each year we would tune in, eager to catch a small glimpse of our Olympic heroes, and each year we would get Japan… Kenya… the Koreas… and Kummercials."

For Zāgars the snubbing took on extra meaning. His Rīga-born mother, sprinter and high jumper Zinaida Liepiņš, had represented Latvia in the 1928 Amsterdam Olympics. She died in March 2000, six months before the Sydney Olympics, never having seen her team again march onto the Olympic field.

Zāgars’ effort has been rewarded with kudos from the Latvian Institute and acquaintances as well as with an invitation to a lunch in Washington featuring President Vīķe-Freiberga. Zāgars had a chance to briefly chat with the president.

‘Kungi’ and ‘Dāmas’

The central meeting point for fans of Team Latvia in Salt Lake City is the Green Street Social Club, 610 Trolley Square. That’s where team members have dined, where fans from Latvia and elsewhere have congregated to get their bearings, and where local patrons have had a crash course in the Latvian language.

Latvian flags adorn the establishment, said Manager Garrett Wilson, and even the restrooms are marked "Kungi" and "Dāmas."

The social club also has been selling Latvian T-shirts and flags. However, one thing missing is Latvian beer.

"We should have got on that," Wilson admitted.

While all the attention has been good for business, the biggest event for the social club may be just ahead. President Vīķe-Freiberga is rumored to be planning to stop by Saturday evening.

So how does a bar in Salt Lake City prepare for a presidential visit?

"We’re gonna find that out," Wilson said with a chuckle.

Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga and Gunārs Žagars

Latvian President Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga shares a laugh with Gunārs Zāgars during a meeting in Washington, D.C. (Photo courtesy of Norma Zāgars)

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

South of the border: Latvians in Akmenė

Latvians of Akmenė

Some members of the Akmenė Latvian community pose for a wintery photograph. Back row from left to right: Tomas Pliuskys, Alvīne Jankauskiene and Valdis Bogavičius. Front row: Valda Pliuskiene, and Spodra Bogavičiene. (Photo by Philip Birzulis)

While most Latvian diaspora communities are thousands of kilometres from their ancestral homeland, Akmenė in Lithuania is almost within walking distance. Latvians have lived in and around this small town, just 20 kilometers from the current border, for two centuries.

The first settlers were farmers from Zemgale, Latvia’s southernmost province, who arrived in the early 1800s to buy cheap land. Although assimilation and Stalinist terror have reduced their numbers, today there are still 30 Latvian families in the town of 3,500, for a total of about 360 people in the Akmenė District. These are some of the roughly 4,700 Lithuanian citizens with the nationality “Latvian” written in their passports. Based on the number of out-of-country voters at the last Latvian parliamentary elections in 1998, the Latvian embassy in Vilnius estimates that there are additionally 120 citizens of Latvia residing in Lithuania.

Unlike their Catholic Lithuanian neighbours, the Latvians of Akmenė still observe the Lutheran faith of their ancestors. A wooden Lutheran church was erected in 1829 in the village of Alkiškiai, 7 km from Akmenė, and a stone one built in its place in 1841 is still used for services. A cemetery adjacent to the church contains numerous Latvian names and inscriptions. One of the headstones is dedicated to Edvīns Švāģeris, a parish priest who served seven Latvian parishes along the border, even under Soviet rule, until his death in 2001. Today, a Latvian minister from Kaunas, Lithuania’s second city, makes frequent visits.

The Latvians in Akmenė say that before the war there was a thriving community based around the Alkiškiai church, which supported two choirs and two Latvian societies. There were even two Latvian schools that closed when the teachers were shipped off to Siberia in 1951. The local people were successful farmers, a quality that brought tragedy for many of them during the mass deportations of 1949. Some hid with relations in Latvia to escape persecution, while others who returned from Siberia were banned from resettling in their old homes. Others moved to Latvia after the war because life there was more orderly than in Lithuania, say the locals, leading to a sharp reduction in the numbers of Latvians.

Life is not easy today either. During the Soviet era, several factories making cement and construction materials provided a relatively high standard of living, but the closure of these plants after independence has led to high unemployment.

These economic worries make it hard for Akmenė residents to travel to Latvia. They are especially annoyed at rules forcing them to buy insurance every time they cross the border. Furthermore, they complain that while the Lithuanian government builds houses, sends teachers and help its co-nationals living in Latvia in other ways, Rīga doesn’t do much for its own people. They would like a Latvian teacher to visit them at least occasionally.

Despite these frustrations, the community is still active. Unlike Lithuanians, the Latvians celebrate Jāņi (Midsummer’s Eve) and enjoy singing Latvian songs. The local council gives them free use of two rooms in a community centre where books, maps of Latvia and other items demonstrating the pride they have in their origins are displayed. Several hundred Latvians come together at the annual kapu svētki, the day for the remembrance of the deceased, at Alkiškiai. While intermarriage with Lithuanians has been taking place for at least two generations, some young people in their 20s and 30s still speak Latvian, although their own children may be assimilated.

This process is reflected in the life story of Valda Pliuskienė. Her grandmother and mother moved from Rīga to live with relatives in Akmenė during World War I, while her father, who was born in Auce in Zemgale, joined his family in Akmenė before 1914. Pliuskienė married a Lithuanian, and while her son Tomas Pliuskys speaks Latvian, he thinks of himself as a Lithuanian. Only one of Pliuskienė’s four grandchildren speaks Latvian.

Nevertheless, the community still maintains contacts with its ethnic homeland. Choirs and folklore groups from Dobele, a town in southern Latvia, often visit Akmenė to give performances. The Akmenė Latvians also have strong ties with their compatriots in Klaipeda, Joniškis, Kaunas, Vilnius and elsewhere in Lithuania. And they show off their Latvian language and culture at festivals in the local district.

It seems likely that this southern Latvian outpost will be around for a while yet.

Latvian church near Akmenė

The Latvian Lutheran Church at Alkiškiai, near Akmenė. (Photo by Philip Birzulis)