Europe, 1994

Some sixteen years ago, in 1994, I took a trip to Europe. As the itinerary of that trip was a bit unusual I thought it would be worth sharing with those who read my blog. The journey that summer started with a visit in Hamburg with former students. I continued on with a flight to Riga, Latvia, then overland to Tallinn, Estonia and by ferry back to Germany. I stayed with friends in Berlin and ended that trip with a visit to the tiny village of Thalheim where I met Mother Meera for the first time. In the process of going through various boxes of accumulated stuff from my past I found a photo album and a written diary of that trip. Modern technology (a scanner, iPhoto and this blog) have enabled me to post my now somewhat dated travelogue here. What follows are a few pics and written excerpts from the 1994 diary. Keep in mind that both Latvia and Estonia were formerly part of the now defunct Soviet Union and in 1994 had only enjoyed independence for a few years.

"July 30. Departure from the new terminal 4 at Hamburg's Fühlsbüttel Airport. Everything is as shiny, efficient and pleasant as it could be in Germany. When the Aeroflot flight leaving for Saint Petersburg is called out heads turn in curiosity. Who would be flying on Aeroflot? The former Soviet airline retained its name and along with its legendary reputation as one of the worst airlines in Europe. The Lufthansa flight to Riga, in a comfortable 30 seater, takes just one hour and 45 minutes. I wonder what Latvia will be like now. My last visit was 24 years ago, in the depths of the Soviet oppression..."
My cousins and my aunt [my mother's younger sister] meet me at the airport. We drive nearly three hours to Ventspils, the port city on the Baltic where they live. My cousin Janis, who works as a professional chauffeur, has provided a Russian-made Volga. It is a decent vehicle, probably considered de luxe by Soviet standards, but nothing to write home about compared to Western autos. It is extremely hot -- the heat wave of the century. Of course, there is no AC in the Volga. The road, the main route between two of Latvia's biggest cities, allows one lane in each direction. It is in surprisingly good condition; only the occasional pothole gives us a jolt. The scenery rolls by: large tracts of forest, predominantly pine and birch; generally flat, some farmland. Villages are sparse here. I am amazed at how empty the countryside is. Everything looks parched after weeks of heat and sun. Now and then a fancy Western auto with Latvian plates passes us. Who can afford a BMW, Audi or Mercedes? [Later on I am told that there is a thriving market in stolen cars from Western Europe, especially Germany, that are then shipped to the former Soviet Union for re-sale.]
The dilapidated condition of the houses along the way gets worse as we approach the outskirts of Ventspils. Here are rows of run-down, Soviet-era apartment blocks, the kind that blight all of Eastern Europe. After only 15 or 20 years they look like they are ready for the wrecker's ball. They were cheaply built and are now crumbling. The general air of dreariness is only made worse by the utter lack of vegetation. There is hardly a tree or bush to be seen. The sidewalks, and often the streets, have crumbled into rubble. This is the legacy of half a century of Russian occupation.
My relatives, ever kind and generous, live quite well by local standards. They have a large house and spacious garden. If things are in disrepair it is not out of neglect but due to a lack of proper building materials...
The television seems to be on all the time. Why are they watching auto racing? It soon dawns on me that the TV is the window to the world that has been nailed shut for so many years. Up until independence just three years ago the only stations that aired were strictly controlled by the government. It was illegal to watch foreign programs; one could be reported for having an antenna turned towards the west...
In the evening I take a walk alone to a nearby park. In Soviet times that would have been discouraged for fear of KGB agents, etc. The fear was palpable then. Now people say what they want and go where they want.


The Latvian word for castle is 'pils' and it is found in many Latvian place names. The port city of Ventspils is located on the mouth of the Venta river, hence the name meaning castle on the Venta. The Germans called it Windau. The classical Lutheran church of St. Nicholas was finished in 1833 and was dedicated to "Gott und Kaiser", to god and emperor. In this case that would have been the Tsar of Russia. The Baltic states were politically in the Russian sphere of influence for centuries, but culturally dominated by the Germans who had been there since the Middle Ages. Initially these old ports on the East Baltic were trading places established in the 12th century, later under the influence of the German Knights of the Baltic.