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Our last full day in Lithuania. Makes me kind of sad, but I do miss Chuck and home.
My run is so early that the birds on the unfinished hotel, and even the stray dogs on the mall, are still sleeping. I pass a man running in sweats and call "Labas rytas!" He smiles, turns, and calls, "Hi!" An American. Bet he goes home with a great story about that Lithuanian woman who was running in a Prairie Home Companion shirt. No way I'd stop to chat and ruin his story. I am going to miss these early morning runs on pedestrian malls and paths. At home, if I ran early, I'd be on the roads with all the commuting cars and the school busses. This is great.
As I shower, dress, and pack a bit more, we watch a Lithuanian fashion show, then some Olympic kepsini (basketball). I'm also going to miss this Olympic coverage. The folks at home won't believe how much we've seen - and not just American individuals and team and the @#$%^* "up close and personal" time wasters where they show old baby pictures of Americans who don't even do well. And one last breakfast of bread & butter with cheese and ham, then blynai su vaisiai. Which I will also miss. Ona & Roze meet us in the lobby and come up to the rooms for a last brief visit.
After they leave, Mom & I take a cab to Ramybes park and the Museum of Exiles and Political Prisoners. This museum is quite small in size but filled with emotion.
The left side is dedicated to those exiled to Siberia under Stalin. The Soviets would decide to exile you. Because you were a freedom fighter, because you were sympathetic to them or helped them, because you were related to someone who was involved with the freedom fighters, because you were educated or intelligent and therefore considered dangerous, because you managed to earn a good living.... Whatever. They would come in your home, take the whole family - no packing even a change of clothes - and haul you off to be loaded into boxcars and shipped away. Of course, your property became that of the state - or whomever they chose to give it to - so you had no home to return to if you did get "un-exiled". Which was not planned, but did happen after Stalin died. The woman hostess at the museum spent 10 years in Siberia. SO she could tell us even more than the pictures and relics could show. These people had to slave for the Soviets, while having to make everything they need from the meager bits the Soviets provided. We saw sewing needles made from fish bones, chess sets made from bits of wadded bread, tiny handmade books, incredible everyday items that these people had to fashion from bark, weeds, trash, leftovers... I cannot imagine surviving. And many didn't; sicknesses such as tuberculosis claimed many. The whole Sipavicai family (Mama's sister Juze, her husband, and all the children) were shipped out and lived like this. Except for Valentina and Liuda, who were active partisans and underground. Liuda was finally caught and exiled also, and met and married Kazys in exile.
The right side is dedicated to the partisan freedom fighters: the Forest Brethren. These men and women tried to fight the Soviets with a free (if underground) press and with arms. Women carried not only messages but, often, guns. These people foolishly believed that we in the West would see their determination to be free and rescue them from the Soviets. But we were willing to let the Soviets keep all they claimed in Europe. We were more concerned about the Chinese in Korea than about the Russians in the Baltic.
Too few visit this museum. We need to know what happened, in all its ugly details. This is why I do not think that Grutus Park is wrong or, worse, the joke the news makes it sound. I see it called Stalin World and a theme park dedicated to the Communists. The idea is anything but! It is to be a historical park dedicated to those who fought against and suffered under the Communists. It will be a dark Sturbridge Village, one with enforced privation, guard towers, and barbed wire. It is one thing for someone my age to look at pictures and get a feeling of what people suffered for freedom and national identity. It is more important for young people to discover exactly what it looked like, felt like, smelled like, and tasted like to live through this evil regime. It will be like the Jurta exhibit at the Rumsiskes Folk Museum, but where you can go into the sod hut, the boxcar, and can eat the thin gruel. When you don't know how expensive freedom and self-determination are, you can't really value them. And I'm heading home to an election that many will sit out: "It was raining. I was tired. It doesn't matter. The line was too long."
Backout in the sunshine, we decide to walk the 4 or so blocks back. I think we need to feel fresh air, sun, and freedom. At the corner of our block, we sit on a bench and sort of join the kavine crowd watching a Lithuanian Olympic basketball game. We're all cheering for Lithuania, of course. We relax a bit in our rooms, then decide to have an early dinner. We have to get up by 5 AM tomorrow. Adrijus will drive us to the airport. The woman from Litinterp comes, we quickly settle the bill, and she apologizes again for the insulting driver. Everything here is so honest and civil.
We eat our last Lithuanian meal at Laume (Witch). The patio is filled with late lunchers - including a woman drinking a large brandy with her meal! We find a comfortable table indoors and dine on lamb cubes with apricots, prunes, and leeks in a thin creamy sauce --ooh, got to try to do this at home. It comes with a Lithuanian slaw with the green part of the leek and peeled boiled potatoes that were lightly sautéed. So where is all the heavy greasy food - huh? Did they hide it for September? This kavine was designed for people watching; every table has a great view through the huge windows out to this busy part of Laisves. Some sort of party or parade or something passes - with clowns and balloons and all. And all the gorgeous, lean, leggy young women. The only reason I could bring Chuck here is that he's getting sufficiently nearsighted as he gets older! Mom & I both love this street. I'd love to pack it up and take it home.
We go back to finish packing, watch some Olympics, and rest. Then, I go for my last evening stroll. Dusk is beautiful on Laisves, which is so alive and happy. Soft streetlights coming on, bits of lights in upper windows, music and chatting drifting from the kavines and barai, couples and families strolling. I walk all the way to the Kalnapiles beer add, where the mall jogs left, then back to my Internet place. Emailing home has been a real boon. I'm so glad Vytas knew this place; I'd never have spotted it myself. I say goodbye to the young man who has been so friendly helpful to this language-impaired Yankee. And reluctantly end my last walk.
Back at the room, relatives arrive in shifts. Yes, they actually co-ordinated it so we would not be overwhelmed. Again, they are not only loving family; they are so considerate. Laimis, Aurija, Darius, Tauras, and Adrijus are first. The boys and I watch Olympic basketball and wish that the Lithuanians did better than bronze. When they leave, Kestutis, Aldona, Dalius, and Rasa arrive. I have to try to describe Rasa's classy make-up to Missa. The young people here are fun but much more knowledgeable and sophisticated than at home. And they aren't pierced or tattooed either! Even our landlady drops in to say goodbye. This hotel may not be posh, but everyone has been so friendly and helpful.
Alone again, we drink our last Bizzieziu alus, finish packing, and head to bed. Tomorrow, we start for home.
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