OUR TRIP TO LATVIJA 1976 CONTINUES!

HOME AT LAST IN JURMALA!

The Past.

Last time I left you with the three of us getting ready for our overnight stay with the family at the homestead in Sloka, Jurmala.

How my Mum got permission for one of our family members to drive us to Sloka during the Cold War Years would be something like winning a Trillion dollars!

This amazing woman got permission for Grandmum, herself and me to travel unaccompanied (as in without an Intourist Guide to travel with us) at the start of one day to then spend overnight at the family home and the day to ourselves to be back at our hotel in Riga by a designated time.  Quite unbelievable and unheard of back then.

Thankfully, I had heard from my boyfriend Garry, before setting off, who went to our parents house for him and Dad to call us long distance.  A huge deal back then and extremely expensive and if I remember you had to go via an operator being the USSR and book it in.  It was so good to hear their voices and I started to miss him very much.  Oh, and Dad as well.  Mum was only 44 at that time and to me she was as old as the hills and here is me now in my 57th year and looking back she really was one hot Mamma.  She was telling Dad all about finding some branch of the Sulcs family that had survived.

Dad never did travel back to Latvija.  It was far too painful for him.  Too much loss.  Too much death that nearly wiped out his entire family.  There are no real good sides to a war when you look at individuals.  He never talked much about his wartime experiences except for a few funny tales, which I will tell later on.

Age is such a strange thing.  Here I am at 20 travelling in a group where the average age was 70 to 75.  There was me 20.  Then Mum 44.  Then my Grandmum 69.  Then the rest that were 70 to 75.  What a bunch of characters they turned out to be.  I remember our first dinner together in Moscow and boy did these guys know how to party.  I sure learnt a thing or two about who had the stamina.  That is when I relaxed about my travel companions.  I had a lot of wisdom and care around me and instead of being a prat about it and pouting I jumped in and enjoyed myself and have a laugh.  Our perceptions of age and outlook change as we get older and a whole other story for later on.

I also got news from the Palanga Tour Leader who was having their own 'little' holiday at our expense and finally did some paid work and found out low and behold 'no news' regarding my luggage.  Big deal.

Surprise, surprise, surprise!

That is for you Gomer Pyle fans out there.

The morning came that we were to scoot off into the country side to explore on our own with .

Again, I had that same feeling in my belly as I did when getting off the plane upon my arrival to Latvija.  I couldn't wait to see where most of my family heritage took place from my Mum's side of the family.

The person who drove us was a person who was of sorts a 'new' family member.  Not sure now how this was arranged as he seemed to have plenty of time up his sleeve.  We set off  with all of us and had to stick to a set path, but that didn't stop up from stopping along the way and just running into the fields at a moments notice.  He had no problem stopping here and stopping there.  Strange now that I look back.

I will digress here just a little and note my thoughts on this entrusted 'new' family member called Vilnis.  Vilnis was my Granddad's Stepdaughter's husband was to be our designated driver and guide, but I suspected him to be capable of doing goodness knows what on the side.  He was definately in for his chop this one.  Wheeling and dealing for his benefit only.  But who could blame one for doing that.  The way the Soviets made life so difficult that it screamed out corruption.  It was very much dog eat dog.

When I was told he was a member of the Communist Party I nearly choked.  He explained it was the only way to get ahead.  He had an answer for everything.  After this piece of news I followed my original gut feeling and kept stum around him after that.  You just weren't sure if you could trust him.  Who knows and I certainly don't care now either.  As long as he didn't hurt anyone then maybe I could understand his actions as I didn't have to live under such an extreme regime every second of my life.  I did have my freedoms.

I had freedom of speech.  I had freedom of movement.  It wasn't for me to criticise.  Maybe it was due to him being a member of the party and our watchdog as to why we were able to do what we did.  I will never know.  Now I am sounding paranoid.  Paranoia seemed to be a state of mind when one was in the Soviet Union.  Again, who cares now as we got to go to our true final destination and that was Jurmala.

We didn't delay too many times as we were eager to get to Sloka.  On one of the stops this is where I got to walk through Birch Forrests with my Mum and Grandmum.  So many special.memories created in such a short space of time.

Jurmala is on the peninsula just outside of Riga and an absolute gem of a place.  Sloka is not considered the best town of Jurmala, but for me it is.  Very very pretty with all the wetlands, forrests stretching next to the sea.  Amber washes up along these shores in its raw state.  It was like coming home.  This was where my heart belonged.  I could feel it in my waters and every fiber of my being.

We arrive once more to a huge welcome yet again with even more folk I haven't seen.  I met so many different relatives over the 10 day period that some of it is a blur.  Once I find my Trip dairy that I kept I will be able to relate names to faces with more ease.

As we drove down this rustic road to turn the corner there was my ancestral family home that had seen many generations before and still providing shelter and land to sustain those within.

It looked just like a picture book from another era.  Some changes had been made but not many.  Such as addition of  minimal electricity, but very much the basics were there.  I got to explore the loft that held the straw and feed during winter that doubled up for warmth as well as keeping the animals in food such as the cow and chickens and so forth.  I got to see how we lived and how it was.  But due to being near the sea there was at least the prospect of abundance with what was caught, grown to be stored in the outside underground cellar.  Much was pickled and fish salted to last the winter through.  Very self sufficient.

A spread was put on and we sat around this large table and small room as there were so many of us to what was one of the best days I could have ever imagined.  We ate, we drank, we sang, we told stories, we laughed.  I got to drink Birch Tree juice.  I got to eat my much loved lamphreys that were jellied and were devine along with smoked eel and other latvian fare.  It was all very much like Mum and Grandmum made still to this day.  I make my potatoe salad just like my Mum and so it shall go on.

During this afternoon I did enquire as to what happened during winter due to the fact that the ground was frozen if anyone died.  Apparently, they stay in state in the cellar where it is coldest and safe from all else till the ground can be broken for a burial plot to be dug.  This just showed me the practicalities of life and that I had little clue to what life was all about.

I was beginning to see just how lucky I was.

I got to hear stories from years gone by about my Mum's childhood and Grandmum's childhood.  I got to see more photos of an era I could only before imagine in my mind.  Some were given to us to keep.  I have this particular Black and White photo where all the women are around this huge wooden slab with edges gutting fish with my Grandmum with a scarf around her head just like a gypsy.  She even looked good gutting fish.

If my family did not have this house and what was left of the land that had not been taken as yet by the Soviets I am sure my Mum's side of the family would not have fared as well.  Much of the farm had been taken from them when the Soviets took over.  But what they had left they made the most of and helped them survive through hard yakka.  It would have been a harsh life.  Luckily they had a pump just outside the back door for running water.  This was great and a considered luxury for most, but come winter time it was off to the well with a bucket just the same.  Also, enough wood had to be stored for the winter months as well.

Before the festivities started all of us did walk to the beach.   It wasn't far and the water from the Baltic sea was icy cold.  I tried to find raw amber to no avail.  If one had to live under such harsh conditions and rule then this would be the place for it.  You had to work hard to ensure you had food and heat, but at least you had a chance at having just that to survive.  Decease was the mortal enemy of most.  Medicines were not all that freely available either.

I was beginning to see how every aspect of ones life and needs were affected by this regime.  No matter which way you turned life was made to be as tough and harsh as possible for those who where not a member of the Party.  To say this sucked big time really doesn't describe what I would like to say.

My relatives who lived there knew they were 'stuck'.  I saw on all their faces and all the other faces since I had been within the Soviet Union that every single person looked trodden on and drained.  You could only plan so far ahead.  Your next meal for some at best.  I could see the joy in seeing us on my families faces, hope for the future, but the sadness behind their eyes knew that all this momentary joy would end very soon.

They welcomed our gifts.  Some of these gifts were for there livelihoods.  I am sure Mum found out what they needed most and brought practical and useful gifts that they could get or afford there.  Remember the fishing rods?  Well, now you know where we lost them.  Oops Officer!

I ended up with so much amber being given to me.  I have tons of it from my two trips.  They didn't have silver so much was made from what they had and generally made your skin go black.  But it all was given from the heart.  There is only so much amber to be had as it takes millions of years to create from the birch trees deep in the Baltic sea for then to be washed up on the shores.  There are other regions that have amber and would vary depending on the tree that it comes from.  In it's raw natural state it just looks rough.  But once polished it becomes a thing of beauty in many colours and if you are lucky enough to get one with a leaf or hell even an insect within that amber.  A virtual time capsule.

The days light was long and the nights were just dusk when I was there.  Going to bed while it was relatively light was something I wasn't used to.  I don't remember any Jani celebrations taking place nor being spoken about, but may just not remember as well.  I was too caught up with every single second to be taken in.

Over the days my Latvian improved ten fold, but my head still hurt from having to listen constantly.  I didn't want to miss a thing.  I resorted to referring to my mini English/Latvian dictionary on many occasion.  I should have taken a mini Latvian/English dictionary as well as there were many times Mum was not with me and who ever I was conversing with would use a Latvian word I had never heard before.  All very frustrating.  Over the days I used them less and less.  I was becoming latvianised and happily so.

But the relatives never stopped asking me to say a line or describe this or that as I would use an Australian way of describing things that just made them all laugh.  Apparently, I was a hit.  The funny one.  Great.  Now I love it, but back then I wanted to be taken seriously.  I got over that quickly and just enjoyed that they loved me no matter how I spoke or not.  They were enjoying us and we, especially me, was enjoying my time with all of them.

I haven't even gotten to the very next day as yet and this is getting rather long.

Will leave the next days events to be told till the next installment along with the disastrous visit to the Open Air Museum.

I shall leave with us all going to sleep happily for the first night in my ancestral home in the nicest make-shift bed possible.  I did want to sleep in the loft, but told not a good idea.  Can't remember why, but I remember agreeing with them.

Here I am in one of the few rooms with in this house with my Mum and Grandmum and all my immediate family.

At least one of my dreams had come true even if it was for just one night.

Life just couldn't get any better.

But it did the next day.
Sweet dreams.  Blusa nakt.

All shall be revealed.