One month compressed

It’s hard to believe that we left our home and family in beautiful Boulder, CO 3 months ago – already! There’s been a lot of living happening since then, so we’ve fallen a bit behind on sharing some of our experiences with all you loved ones out there. All of that slacking we’ve been doing has left us a bit overwhelmed with where to start, but here it goes...

Last week we took a dip in the cold waters separating the North Sea from the Baltic Sea. 16⁰C (61⁰F) sounds a lot warmer than it feels. Starting our international adventure in Latvia seemed like it was going to be a nice, easy way to settle into our new, very mobile, packed-in-a-backpack way of life. But looking back on it now, starting our trip in Latvia was as “easy” as “easing” into the cold waters of the coast of Denmark – rewarding and worthwhile, but definitely not easy.

Like so many of the Latvian Americans out there, my weekends and summers growing up were dedicated to Latvian school. We learned about Latvian grammar, history, literature, folklore, traditional arts, etc. - even geography (it’s the size of West Virginia). There was the Latvian Girl Scouts, multiple tradition folk dancing groups performing at multiple international Latvian Song and Dance Festivals, and serving on the board of the American Latvian Youth Association. My mother was the principle of the Chicago Latvian School and to this day spends her summers teaching the next generation of "Latvians" born abroad. Starting from the time I was 6 years old, I visited Latvia and the family who live there multiple times, etc., etc. Because of all of this, I thought I knew what we were in for this time around.

What they say about assumptions is very true...

It seemed like everywhere we went in our 3 weeks in Latvia, we were greeted with intense, almost aggressive graciousness. Both family and friends would go out of their way to make sure you were comfortable and happy. The slightest hint that something wasn’t right (generally the result of a cultural misunderstanding) would result in a flurry of nervous compensation. Our plates and glasses were never empty. A “no, thank you” would get you refilled anyway. To avoid being turned down, pre-lit cigarettes and unsolicited shots and beers eventually began flowing our way. A Latvian word that comes to mind is “viesmīlība”, or “love of guest”. But, unless your ‘guests’ have an intimate relationship with their own limits regarding food, drink, smoke and/or attention, this ‘love’ can feel a little like a Hurricane Irene. Both family and friends seemed perplexed by our need to take time to ourselves.

This is the #1 most obvious (yet somehow not obvious) lesson I've learned thus far – know your own limits so that you are rested and healthy enough to enjoy the ride.

Some other notable lessons:
• Simply speaking a language doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be understood or really understand what is being said. Though you may entertain your hosts with your funny accent and poor word choice.

• The people that lived through the Soviet occupation don’t really care what you read in history books at Latvian school. If you ask them, many will tell you that, though they had less then, they were guaranteed that little bit. Now, though they have more luxuries and more freedom, they are running to keep up.  

• Sharing a bloodline with people who live on a separate continent doesn’t mean you will have anything in common with them. However, it may grant you a backstage pass into their daily lives and get you some extra patience for your weirdness.

As we were wrestling these assumptions from our egos, we were being spoiled by the best that friends and family had to offer. It is only because of the generosity of these people that we saw and experienced as much as we did in our short visit: we camped in 3 beautiful locations, fished more than I have in my entire life, time traveled at 2 different castle ruins, enjoyed multiple drives through poetic country landscapes, and ate more satiating home-cooked meals than I could almost make room for - and all we had to do was keep up.

Now, our bellies fuller and egos trimmer, we move on to the next chapter of our adventure...