Saturday, 28 June 2008

U is for Užsieniečiai

An užsienietis is a foreigner, literally someone from behind or beyond the wall. Although it‘s a small country there are many užsieniečiai in Lithuania – okay, so not as many as UK or France, etc, but enough. In my opinion there are three main types – tourists, WEs and EWs.

Just by listening to people speak and looking at the number plates of buses, most tourists to Lithuania are from Poland – taking short breaks in Vilnius and the South East region – perhaps in memory of their imagined empire. There are also many tourists from Germany and also from the UK. I haven‘t actually seen many British stag-do parties this year, but in my previous two years I have cringed to myself as I‘ve walked past such groups.
Stag-do parties tend to be the same everywhere; A football-shirt-wearing, prematurely balding young man, someone dressed as a women, someone with something bizarre on his head and one person looking a bit shy and wishing all of his friends would be a little bit quieter.

There are also other groups of non-Lithuanians living in Lithuania, see Demographics.

Tourists come and go, but WEs and EWs stay for longer.

WEs are “West to Easters”, meaning they have travelled from the West – The USA, Canada, Europe. In more common parlance, these people are called "ex-pats" and are generally people who didn’t need to come to Lithuania, they’re not seeking a better life here, although they might be looking to make a few more Litas.
Some came for love – mostly men – having met a Lithuanian beauty (Lietuvaitė) somewhere else in the world and decided it would be interesting to meet the parents and see what the future might hold in her native land.
Others come for different family reasons. Throughout the 20th Century, thousands of Lithuanians left their fatherland and sought a more peaceful stable life in countries as far away as the USA, Canada and even Brazil. Years later their children or grandchildren return to Lithuania to seek their routes, learn a little bit of the language, and if they’re really cunning, get a Lithuanian passport so that they can study more cheaply in Europe.

By contrast to WEs, EWs (pronounced like a Geordy forming his own second person plural, “youse”) are “East to Westers”, coming from the Middle East, Africa and Asia.
These are people who didn’t need to come specifically to Lithuania, but somehow they found an opportunity to and they took it. Interestingly, these people aren’t often called ex-pats, they’re labelled “immigrants” and have to accept all the charged stereotyped baggage that comes along with such a word. While in the UK people complain of “those Lithuanians, stealing our jobs”, some Lithuanians can also be heard saying the same thing about those of darker skin colour who reside in the same country.
Unlike WEs, EWs don’t often live in the best parts of town, probably don’t own a car and instead of owning cafes, work in their kitchens.

I have friends who left a country in the Middle East because of religious persecution and came to Lithuania in order to work and eventually bring their families to live with them. Despite working nights and living in one cramped room, life hasn't gone according to plan and they haven't achieved the "European Dream". Recently they have been discussing moving on to another EU country now that they have a Schengen visa.

Another group came from South Asia with a view to entering Europe. They originally enrolled as students, though 3 years after arriving, I think only 2 are still pursuing their studies, a few others are working in restaurants and the rest have found their way to Paris, Manchester and Vienna through various and, as far as I can tell, illegal means.

T is for Trolleybus

SOPs for boarding a Trolleybus

1. Decide before the trolleybus even arrives that you are boarding the next bus no matter how busy it is or how many people have been waiting at the bus stop before you.

2. As the trolleybus approaches, estimate where the doors will open and stand in that place.

3. As the doors open, deny anyone on the bus the opportunity to exit. Raise one hand onto the handrail and haul oneself against the flow of people.

4. Curse anyone who even slightly touches you as they try to exit the trolleybus.

5. Once two feet have been placed on the steps of the entrance, release the hand hold and adopt the elbow barge postion.


5. a. Grit ones teeth or adopt a scowling, me verses the world, do-you-know-what-I’ve-been-through expression.
5. b. Bend both arms at the elbow with hands meeting together at the in the middle of the chest
5. c. Extend elbows outwards until the hands are touching the sides of the waist. (You should be looking like an angry teacher by now). Make sure at this point your handbag doesn’t slip off your wrist
5. d. Step forward, possibly with your head slightly bent downwards, twisting your body from left to right
5. e. Do not be afraid of others. Your stern facial expression will deflect their comments or looks and your incredibly thick coat, even in summer, will absorb any physical action.


6. Maintain this position until a seat becomes available or it is time to exit the trolleybus.

7. (For undercover inspectors only)



a. Pull out your identification badge from under your blouse and let it hang by the chain around your neck so that all can see the authority invested in you to bring justice to those who travel without a ticket (in spoken Lithuanian this is called travelling “Zuikis”, or as a rabbit!).

b. Take out a small notebook from your immensely large handbag.

c. Mete out justice.

Wednesday, 4 June 2008

S is for Sun and Snow, Sensible Shoes and Sunglasses

Lithuania has a continental climate - it's like a continental breakfast - you know what you're getting and it's a slightly odd experience for the English.
Cold meats for breakfast? -20 In January? “Sunshine in Lithuania? I thought it was cold there?”

From mid November until April the temperatures go below zero or hover around the single digits and snow can be on the ground – though less and less it seems each year – global warming!
Despite the cold weather, when the sun does shine on the snow covered towns of Lithuania – it can be blinding. Sunglasses are a must and can make even the most cold-fearing tourist wrapped up like the Michelin man look cool!

One of my favourite times is when the Sun is finally getting itself to peak in the sky and the snow is melting. Despite the thaw and inevitable slush and flooding that follows, it is fun to play a kind of Russian-roulette when you get dressed in the morning. Am I going to need this thick jumper or not? Will I need gloves?
Whatever the weather, sensible shoes are a must for negotiating Old Town cobbles, sandy village roads or just about anything in between. I would recommend anything with a slightly higher ankle – and if you’re a lady, then it needs to be no shorter than the lower knee cap.

Crows on the rocks - Crows take it easy as they float downriver on the thawing river.


In the summer – an indefinable length of time between the long spring and long autumn but usually involving some of June and July – the sun is out for up to 18 hours a day and if the clouds behave themselves you can enjoy weather that is better than anything the Mediterranean might offer – which has been the case for the last 5 days. 5 days isn’t much, but it’s wonderful when it comes – a time to strip off the confines of layers, let your boots gather dust and of course, don some sunglasses and strut around the cities of Lithuania or lay on the beaches until the late evening.

Of course, it's also a great time to enjoy ice-cream.

Thursday, 29 May 2008

R is for Random

Here is a collection of observations and notes that so far didn't find themselves in any other letter. They are in no particular order and I will probably update them as well.

1. The first random point is a song. Listening to it always brings a smile to my face. Inculto's "Welcome to Lithuania" was a potential Lithuania's entry in 2006 for Eurovision. In words and pictures it summarises everything about today's Lithuania. I needn't write more, feast your eyes and ears.



2. In a small town called Ukmerge, on the way to Riga from Vilnius, there is a small shopping centre with the name Eifelis. Next to the name there is a small representation of Eifel's tower and the outside walls are covered with a map of the Paris Metro system. Pourquoi?


3. On the north-eastern edge of Vilnius there is region which is almost entirely made up of student dorms and university campuses. It runs west to east along a street called Sauletekis - literally sunrise. Although the dorms are currently going (slowly) through large scale renovations, it used to be that those in the East were the worst to live in and had the furthest to walk to the bus and trolleybus stops, thus requiring a longer walk and a longer journey to central Vilnius. Certainly not a welcoming way to start a day of studies, especially in the winter. I don't know when, but for as long as anyone can remember, the dorms located on the west of the street have been called "New York", that glimmering, glass-towered bastion of hope, freedom and big bucks! On the eastern side the area is known as "Kamchatka", an area of distant, possibly desolate Russia that most people only know about from a Risk board.
Nowadays, Kamchatka isn't such a bad place to live - in the dorms that is, I've no idea about the area in Russia - and it's where most of the Erasmus and international students live.

4. "How's life in Vilnius?"

"I've got no hot water at the moment"

"Oh? Can't you just turn it on? What's wrong?" What, indeed, is wrong? Coming from a country where each person heats their own hot water for their morning showers and for their central heating this is a perfectly reasonable question. However, in most flats in Lithuania (and across the former Soviet Union I should probably add), hot water for both washing and heating is provided centrally so you can't ever, in theory, run out. Hooray!

However, my hot water has currently run dry as a result of a pipe problem somewhere in the hair salon below me and there has yet to be any agreement with the authorities who fix these things, when they can go and fix it - at least that's as much as I understand.

5. Vilnius has a bronze bust of Frank Zappa - apparently the only one in the world!

Monday, 19 May 2008

Q is for Queen

17 October 2006
In the middle of Vilnius Old Town, normally quiet and sedate, snipers can be seen on the roofs, men with bits of telephone cables hanging from their ears walk amongst the thronging crowds, sirens wail and flags wave frantically.
Away from the crowds, in one of Vilnius University’s many courtyards, students and staff gather to watch the arrival of her majesty Queen Elizabeth II. Trumpeters herald the arrival of the Queen into the courtyard, led by the Dean of the University. She takes time to talk to some of the people gathered at one end, roped off. The atmosphere is relaxed and friendly; people waving flags, a few cheers, and exchanges between friends, and of course her majesty and her interlocutors.
“Your majesty, we’re from England!!!”
With only the merest reaction she turned her heard and gently made her way towards two young, students, who, as they made clear with the eloquence of hoody-wearing, cider-drinking, bench-outside-the-co-op sitting, yoofs, are from England.
Fortunately, the overexcited Englishmen weren't rewarded with ASBOs, but a question.
“What do you do here in Lithuania?”
“We study Lithuanian language here at Vilnius University. We are the only British students in the whole university.”
“Yes, it’s true.” Confirmed the Dean.
“Do you enjoy it?”
"Yes, and we enjoy living in Vilnius, it's a great city", I answered in such a horrible chocolate box way. I wish I'd said something better, and not as 'nice'.
“And what will you do afterwards?”
Apply for the foreign office, your majesty, or some other government post, the military, or even for a large corporate institution.
“We don’t know”. She didn’t seem very impressed by that answer and moved on to the next members of the crowd.


Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II of UK, and President Valdas Adamkus of Lithuania.



Thursday, 8 May 2008

P is for Panevėžys

In the middle of Lithuania there is a town called Panevėžys. Panevėžys is a town that I doubt any tourists go to. Should you go however, perhaps by mistake or to fill up with petrol on your way to Riga, there is a very Soviet feeling hotel in the very centre of town which offers a fantastic view of the city. Fantastic meaning, you can see the city and out to the forests around. The city isn’t exactly beautiful. When you have enjoyed the view - for which you just need to take the lift to the top floor, rather than book a room - you may find your ears ringing with the sound of classical music. Look up to the trees and lampposts to see, no not an angelic choir making a visitation, but speakers as part of the city’s initiative to make the centre a more peaceful environment.
In Lithuanian street folklore (urban myths) Panevėžys is gangster town. At least, it used to be. Now it’s a city which is sprouting huge shopping centres and supermarkets like a pubescent, newly-testosterone filled adolescent develops muscles on his shoulders. It’s what everyone else is doing, so let’s do it better and maybe it will even impress the ladies.

Panevėžys is also the home of Kalnapilis - one of Lithuania's most famous beers. It's personally not my favourite however, I am assured by a friend that the tour of the brewery is well worth it (book in advance to avoid a busy day!!).

Until very recently Panevėžys had it's own amusement park. I say park, it was more a handful of static rides. However, in it's abandonment it felt like we had entered a post apocalyptic nightmare…Or at least something to play on.

It might sound like I give Panevėžys a wide birth, however, nothing could be further from the truth. I have had many happy days in Panevėžys, running along the river with friends, playing on the amusement park, receiving a massage from a lady who looks like Yoda and despite being the same size had the same force-like strength, and for some reason, nearly always experiencing blue skies when I arrived.

Below is a a very creative and funny song about Panevėžys, playing on all of the common stereotypes. I won't translate the whole song, but the chorus goes, "Mama, buy me a pistol, I want to be a Panevėžeter"*


*This is my own translation of a person from Panevėžys, as in Londoner is a person from London

O is for "Oh no!", I can't think of anything right now.

Oh, I can't think of anything right now, so I'm moving on to P instead.
I may however write about my experience at the hospital. "Oh no!"