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I got up late because I was up late. But I had time for a chilly and misty run down to the Old Town and back. And I got to meet a cute mottled grey cocker spaniel and the charming woman walking him. My marginal Lithuanian and her bit of English were enough to establish enough rapport that the pup gave me hugs and licks all over. Running is a great way to "learn" an area and interact a bit. I think I'm becoming a local character; the elderly street sweepers, flower and fruit vendors, and neighbors now call "Labas rytas" and smile (or laugh) as I pass. And I'm secure enough to answer.
Another blynai breakfast. But this time we get a thick cream or liquidy cheese sauce (rather a lot like clotted cream) and jelly. This is why I run each morning! When we waddle out, Ona and Roze meet us in the lobby - laden with warm clothes.
Up in the room, we try on coats and sweaters (they are worried that ours do not look nearly warm enough). I'm more interested in the krustis they brought, fried thin strips of sweet dough. While Mom looks through the album they also brought, Vytas and Elyte arrive for our pilgrimage to Tete's birthplace, and then the driver arrives up here, too. What a chaotic crowd in a now-small suite! Finally, with Mom & me in coats of which Ona and Roze approve, Elyte, Mom, Vytas, the driver, and I head out.
Once again, we cross the Nemunas and drive south past Birute. We turn west towards Marijampole and Vilkaviskis. The road is, as usual, two lanes. But this one has a row of large trees just past the shoulder on each side. Evidently there is some question as to whether this is safe; people are killed or seriously hurt when they crash into the trees. I think it's a great speed deterrent if you know you can't bounce!
We have to pull over as several police cars come towards us, leading a long line of semis. Vytas explains that this is a convoy, arranged for safety from "bandits". I would think that a huge truck would win in a confrontation with a car or truck that tried to hijack it. But I guess they have "blue light bandits" everywhere, so you can't be sure about what appears to be an official stop. Also, this convoy appears to be international. And it's sure making good time!
After asking a woman in the sort of combined villages of Suvalkai and Gudeliai (houses and a general store - not even a pub), we find our way to Antupiai, the village in which Tete was born and lived as a young child. A local directs us to the farm of oldest man (~93) in the village, who might remember the Navadauskai family. No wonder we have a hard time finding it, the "road" is a dirt path, off a dirt lane, off a dirt road.... But the local is there ahead of us (on a bicycle, with a tiny dog), and the man is very willing to talk to Mom. But he does not remember the Navadauskai. Well, Tete's father died somewhere around 1898, before this man was born, and Tete lived with his maternal grandmother, then went off to a monastery while still a student. I enjoy poking around this farm, which is not that changed from when Tete's grandmother chased him around a similar one, wielding an old potato in a sock!
 Mom chatting in front of the farm house (the little dog is noshing in the left front). |
 The kitchen garden and orchard. |
 This dog was as energetic and friendly as a border collie. But he seemed to lean and leggy. As soon as I got home, I discovered an online thread all about "Borzoi border collies, which seem to be common in eastern Europe. |
 The work horse and farm wagon. The wagons to the east of Kaunas have a curved wooden arch over the horse - just like the ones on the carved Russian sleds from the camp in Maine. |
Mom & I decide to go back to the little village and just kind of experience Antupiai and think of Tete. It's very small: one dirt road that ends at a T-intersection with another dirt road that goes to outlying farms. The village proper has about 6 to 8 neat houses, each, of course, surrounded by well-tended gardens. The men and women at their house and yard work smile and greet us. But they seem to think we are a bit daft. This kind of pilgrimage is generally unnecessary around here.
 Looking up the road on the way into the village. |
 Children playing in the center of Antupiai. |
 Looking back, from the T-intersection, into the village. |
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On the left is one of the house in the village, with it's front flower garden. I'm sure these people are not well off. But the houses, outbuildings, and yards are neat and well maintained. And the people look healthy and happy. |
The quite elaborate house on the right was part of a large farm just on the edge of the village. Because it is set apart, much more elaborate than anything else, and included barns and other buildings on both sides of the road, I imagine that this is the home of the lord of this area. Back in the Polish and Czarist occupations before World War I. Yes, those are chickens pecking in the grass up on the left. |
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| And, across from the elaborate farmhouse, on the very edge of Antupiai, we saw this huge (and currently empty) stork nest. Having them nest near you is very good luck - and not just the bringing babies kind. Once a pair builds on the stand you provide, they return each spring to raise the new brood. |  |
Vytas had spotted a cemetery near-by when we arrived. So we drive over there to see if we can find the grave of Tete's father. But, although we check every legible headstone, we find nothing that pre-dated 1913. But with all the turmoil that occurred in this land, it is not surprising that we cannot find the old graves.
We drive back to Kaunas and have a delicious early dinner at a kavine on Rotuses square, facing the town hall. Our meal is called shish kabob - but it's nothing like the Greek kind we know. It's more like a grilled lamb steak with roast potato and vegetables, with pilaf. Really smoky and tasty. And the place is dark and brick with heavy wood tables and chairs. Another very comfortable place and great food. So where is all the greasy stuff of the tourist guides? Anyhow, I prove that I'm the resident crazy American by wrapping up all the bones for Elyte and Vytas to take home to Rudis. Lithuania has not discovered the efficacy of the "doggie bag"!
Finally, we visit the Vytautas Military Museum (because it is also the history museum). Irecognize these prehistoric artifacts! They are the illustrations in The Balts by Maria Gimbutas: one of my very special books. Vytas starts to tell me about them - and I tell him as much as the little plaques say. I've never had this happen before - discovered the originals.
Lots of other interesting exhibits. But the one that affects me most is the one for Steponas Darius and Stasys Girenas. The wreck of their plane, the Lituanica, which looks like it was made of balsa wood and painted cloth (probably true) is bad enough. But their cleaned, mended, and folded clothing is both scary and immensely touching. I cannot believe that, after managing to fly across the Atlantic and western Europe, these pilots "misjudged" and flew into a line of fir trees in Germany. Come on now. They were shot down by Nazis. It was 1933.
It's been another busy day, so Mom is rather tired. I send Elyte and Vytas home in the car, leave Mom to relax in the suite, and go for my evening stroll. I go down and around side streets to come back up to the internet place. I'm now a regular here. Then to Media (my underground grocery) for water and some small chunks of cheese. I really do love strolling along Laisves al. in the evening - it's so soft and enchanting. I even enjoy not understanding the passing conversations. This is a whole new world for me.
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