My early memories of life in Latvia. 1937.....
Here is one of the earliest memories I have from my childhood. I remember that my mother was ironing. She always lay down for the few minutes that the iron took to warm up to the proper temperature. For some reason that I do not remember or was not told about, she had to step out for a few minutes and left me alone. It did not take me very long to conclude that I should iron my tie, that I had recently received as a present. After all, the ironing board was set up and the iron was sitting there, even though by now it was unplugged and cooled off. I plugged it in and did what mother alays did, lay down. I was awakened by loud screams by my parents, who had come home together. There was smoke in the air and a large burn mark, in the shape of the iron, on the ironing board. Fortunately I do not remember what happened afterwards.
I was born in Riga, however most of my memories are from Carnikava where I spent my summers on my mother's parent's farm "Prieduļi". Carnikava is a community about an hours drive east of Riga where the river Gauja flows into the Baltic sea. It is famous for its harvest of lamprey from the river Gauja. I know that in some countries, including Canada, lamprey is considered a pest and not considered to be edible. In Asian countries and Latvia and Germany coal grilled lamprey is considered a delicacy. In season lamprey is caught by placing large bundles of birch branches off piers in the river and leaving them overnight. The lamprey crawl in and attach themselves to the leaves and branches, so it is just a matter of pulling up the bundles and shaking them. At least that is the story I remember. Today I believe most are caught in nets. A number of culinary products are available, Carnikavas fried lamprey in mustard marinade, grilled lamprey in jelly, and smoked lamprey in oil.
Lamprey on postage stamp.
Grilling on coals.
My sister Gundega is three years older than I and was always a dominant force in my early youth. We spent seven summers, that I remember, at Prieduļi picking berries and flowers, chasing chickens, going to the seaside and listening to the adults tell stories in the evenings. The house had an attick that was only accessible by a ladder from the outside. We were not supposed to go up the ladder because we could have fallen off, however sometimes we climbed up and searched for treasure. There were structural beams every two feet or so, that also supported the ceiling below. The space between the beams was filled with sawdust to act as insulation. We used to sift the sawdust through our fingers and filter out all kinds of treasures. I am not clear on how the items ended up in the sawdust. There were buttons of various sizes and colours, pieces of coloured and plain glass, beads and pieces of broken pottery and sometimes we even managed to discover a few kopeks. It was always a great adventure. The farm also had a resident stork family, who had made a nest on top of the house and returned year after year.
In the meadows.
Summer celebrations.
When I was 3 to 4 years old, Riga used to have a pontoon bridge across the river Daugava, on other words a floating bridge. We lived on the west side of Daugava in Pārdaugava, which literally meant "on the other side of Daugava". It was considered a but of a suburb. I remember walking with my family, across the bridge to the centre of the old city. For me it was a very long walk. On the way we encounterted many other walkers, Gypsies and street artists. There was one fellow with a long beard in a scruffy, long black coat who was making paintings on the sidewalk with pastel crayons. He was a very good artist and known for going barefoot. His name was Irbe but everyone referred to him as "Irbīte", the familiar form. I was impressed with him as a character as well as his paintings. I remember being puzzzled by him making such large, intricate paintings that would be washed away in the next rain. Everyone seemed to know him.
Now, February 2018, it appears that there is a play about him in Latvia.
Posted on Facebook by Baiba Rubess, a friend of mine, whose life partner Juris Bartkevičs is the main actor.
Posted on Facebook by my friend Baiba Rubess whose life partner is Juris Bartkevičs, the main actor.
Ballerina Gundega.
Gundy and I and friend.
My Godfather and I.
I think I stepped into some chicken shit.
I remember, in winter, the men would hitch up our old, white horse Ansis to a sleigh and go and cut large blocks of ice for our cold cellar. The cellar was partially dug into the ground and above there was a wooden structure which was covered with a thick layer of earth and sod. Access was by a small, solid wood door. Potatoes and other root vegetables were mostly stored in the cellar. The ice was covered with sawdust as an insulator and would last well into the fall.
Half way between our farm and the Baltic sea there was, and still is, a wet bog, where we used to go and pick cranberries. We also picked lingonberries,blue and blackberries and many kinds of mushrooms. On the farm we had a separate, small sauna building', where every Saturday night, everyone went, the women first and the men in the second shift. Being a small boy, I was with the women. I vividly remember being vigorously scrubbed head to toe and my scalp being scratched to the point that i was convinced that it must be bloody. It was probably my first exposure to the female form in all its variations. The large oven was also used to bake bread and grill lamprey.
Latvia has one poisonous snake, the Odze, or Adder, in English. Our farm dog, Duksis used to hunt them down. He would grab them close to the head and then shake his head back and forth to break its back. A teenage farm boy Ziedonis, would take the snake and place it in an ant hill. We watched with great fascination as the ants devoured the carcass.
In the spring, when the weather was getting warmer and the grass was getting green, the cows would be let out from the barn. It was always a joyous time, the girls would have made flower wreaths, which they placed around the necks of the cows. The cows, who had been in the barn all winter, were overjoyed to get out into the sunshine, and would run and jump and dance with delight.
In Carnikava near the large barn, there was a birch grove with a small pond in the middle. In winter, Dad would drive a stake in the middle of the ice,tie on a long, slender sapling to the stake, with enough length on the short end, so hat he could push and make the toboggan, which was attached to the long end of the sapling, go round and round to the delight of me and my sister.
My sister Gundega and I.
With our Dad.
