Vilnius, as with the whole country, is a city of contrasts. On the same streets you’ll see Humvees (I’ve counted at least three – one bright yellow, one shiny black, and one white stretch Hummer) cruising the streets being driven by rich young men and old Soviet Ladas being driven by older men. Every country and city has its own contrasts, it’s old and new coexisting together, but somehow in Lithuania, they just seem starker and more apparent. It's one of the things I love so much about Lithuania.
North of the river, in one of the most recent developments, you’ll find the City Hall, a bank HQ and shopping centre, all made from towering glass with fountains outside and not a hint of concrete to be seen. However, less than 2 minutes walk you’ll find what could almost be a small village of wooden houses, each with their own plot of land and maybe one of the occupants washing their clothes in a bucket of water. Photos are below.
It's these architectural and clearly-seen changes that strike, not only a visiting Brit, but returnees to Lithuania. As residents of Stratford (London), East Anglia and Dublin will know, there are a fare few hundred thousand (probably) Lithuanians living and working in the UK and Ireland. I recently met a couple who had spent the last 8 years living in England. As we talked, they told me they had expected the numbers and quality of cars to rise, new buildings to be built, the roads to be improved and the choice of foods to increase (My local big supermarket now has a whole shelf dedicated to Eastern food. It's not big, but it's nice to be able to check your tongue can still handle the spice once in a while). However, they were also expecting the people to change more.
Lithuanians like to joke that of the three Baltic States (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania - right hand pinky remember?), they are the most open and friendly, while the Estonians up north are more reserved and quiet. This is true, but it by no means indicates that Lithuanians are throw-your-arms-wide-open give you a kiss and hug and shower you in reverence and awe on a first meeting. There is one guy like that in Lithuania. His name is Sergej. I'll talk about him another time. My new friends remarked that it still takes a long time to build friendships here. Indeed, first encounters can sometimes be awkward.
Despite my good looks, English charm and holding the door open for a lady, I'm no James Bond. Yet, often when I meet new people, particularly amongst young men, I feel like they are sizing me up.
"Is he here to steal our secret plans to infiltrate all walks of life, only to rise up and begin the United Kingdom of Lithuania, Great Britain and Ireland? Is he here to steal our above averagely attractive young ladies? We must know..."
I've never been interrogated, but that's part of the problem. I often don't feel like people are interested or at least they don't make the banal chat about the weather or our latest holidays that would perhaps be expected on those distant Atlantic battered shores. This is of course, a stereotype. Not every Lithuanian guy is a silent, sit in the corner, eyeing-the-new-guy type. As I said, there's Sergej.
The comment that most stuck with me from this couple, was that Lithuanians "don't want to belong to groups. They want to be individuals". Consumers not committers. "We're still not open to new people."
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