WONDERLAND

Wonderland: The ABC of this year’s travels

Daiva — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 15:19:00 +0200

Cross-posted from DaivaRepeckaite.com - you can comment there.

I found a fun questionnaire on this blog and decided to use it to ‘close’ 2011 on Wonderland. This year was exceptionally full of travelling, for which I feel grateful. I went somewhere almost every month. I visited 3 continents, 12 countries (6 of them – for the first time) and 21 cities. True, I didn’t blog on Wonderland much, as there were so many things to do and so much to share on my Lithuanian blog. The loss of the possibility to interact with my readers on Cafe Babel blogs was also very discouraging, and this is why I started cross-posting. Anyway, let’s hope the next year will be equally interesting and less busy.

> Age you went on your first international trip

Not exactly about this year, but OK, I think 18. I went to Riga for a school competition. But to add some relevance, I was surprised to count and see that the number of countries I visited by now already exceeds my age.

> Best (foreign) beer you’ve had and where

Of course in Belgium! It was great that this year I could go there four times, of which two were longer than a couple of days. I spend 2.5 weeks in Brussels in January-February and 5 days in October. There are many good beers there, but even better is the company to enjoy the beers with.

Cuisine (favorite) – I add: of this year

South Spain was this year’s culinary paradise. Very fresh products, great olive oil, amazing fish dishes, creative tapas, good coffee – highly recommend I tried boquerones, fish that is typical for Málaga, a huge potato with stuff inside, octopus in Granada, legendary jamón serrano and many other things. I was particularly amazed at the cute names that residents of Málaga give to different coffee and milk ratios: shadow, middle and cloud. Thank you José for a very detailed list of things to eat in Málaga and Granada!

Then again, there were many things I liked in South Korea too. This was where I tried pickled bugs, a barely dead octopus and pigs’ hearts. Seafood in Busan was amazing. Two things I miss are spicy rice cake (tteokbokki) and fish cake. I hope my friend won’t mind that I borrowed her picture.

Photo by Ying Hui

I spent a month in Korea and it took about the same time to lose the extra weight. The food there is interesting and cheap, but the main problem with it is many additives and unusual (for me) mixes. I might forget the few words I learned in Korean, but I’ll always remember “No chili paste, please” and “I’m (not) hungry”.

Destinations: favorite, least favorite and why

I was happy to have the opportunity to go to one of my favourite cities – Berlin – twice. First time in March, second time in August. Berlin is the place where I would like to live one day. It’s big, but cheap, relatively safe, with a fun and relaxed atmosphere. I like that people allow themselves to remain young for a long time – it’s something I miss in Lithuania. Something I did in Berlin in August was a little pilgrimage – visiting the grave of Herbert Marcuse, one of the first left-wing authors I read. Having exposure to this tradition of philosophy at my Erasmus university in Sweden made me reconsider many things and shaped my values into what they are now.

It seems there are many ‘pilgrims’ like me, judging from the crowded candles and stones (following both Christian and Jewish traditions). ‘Weitermachen’ (continue!) is the best word to write on a prominent person’s grave.

The least favourite place I visited this year was obviously Sharm el-Sheikh. Awfully boring, segregated and consumerist. Local men were jumping at every tourist and shouting “Hi, where are you from?” and taking pictures of women in swimsuits with their mobile phones. The only good thing about it was the possibility to book a night tour to Mount Sinai.

If you find yourself there, climb the mountain, take a swim once, and run away.

Event you experienced abroad that made you say “wow”

Positively ‘wow’? I didn’t encounter many events unfortunately, but I guess something I admired was the b-boy championship in Seoul.

The whole experience of being in Egypt after the revolution was amazing – I wouldn’t have the same feelings now. People were inspired and confident that they can take destiny in their hands and achieve something important.

Favorite mode of transportation

Trains wherever I could take them (Cairo-Alexandria, Amsterdam-Brussels, Berlin-Bremen, etc.). This year I flew more than throughout my life before, which is definitely nothing to be proud of. An 11-hour bus ride Cairo-Luxor was the most (negatively) unforgettable experience, with lame local movies half the night (they are something between Bollywood and Latin American soap operas and seem to always feature a woman being strangled).

Greatest feeling while traveling

Feeling a part of local life with CouchSurfing. This way I met amazing people in Brussels, Cairo, Luxor, Berlin and Granada.

Hottest place you’ve traveled to

Luxor. 42. Ouch.

Incredible service you’ve experienced and where

Finding two little candies in a hotel room in Prague.

Journey that took the longest

Predictably, Vilnius-Paris-Seoul and Seoul-Amsterdam-Vilnius. All the flights were very inconvenient and expensive, and in the end I decided that 15 hours to spend in a city of transfer is better than 7 hours. In Paris, I met two friends (it was great fun to have early French breakfast before catching a train to the airport). But on the way back, there was nobody I knew to meet me in Amsterdam. Which appeared to be not a problem at all. Still in Seoul, I overheard some people speaking Lithuanian on an escalator and said hello. We quickly found out we were taking exactly the same flights. I asked them, four exchange students returning home, how they were planning to spend the night. They said they were going to party. They kindly allowed me to join. We sat in a park, in a pub, at Burger King, etc. sharing stories about Korea. But it was cold and drizzling, so spending a night out was not much fun. We ended up sleeping on the floor at their friend’s place.

Keepsake from your travels

Something I really like is a ring shaped like eyeglasses from Seoul.

Let-down sight: why and where

Berghain club in Berlin. A long queue and grumpy bouncers who wouldn’t explain their face control policy.

Prague’s old town during the weekend. I’ve told you why.

Moment where you fell in love with travel

To rephrase the question to make it more relevant for this year, what was the moment when I, with all my travel fatigue, said to myself: “In the end, I do love travelling”? Maybe sightseeing in Granada, looking at this amazingly exotic place from a hilltop.

Nicest hotel you’ve stayed in

Maldron hotel in Dublin. A hotel room with tea making facilities will receive my compliments by definition. But this one also had an iron, and a bath tub instead of a shower.

Obsession: what are you obsessed with taking pictures of while traveling?

Repeating patterns. Food. Details.

Passport stamps: how many and from where?

Egypt and South Korea. I was wondering whether the border guards in Egypt will ask any questions about my Israeli stamp, but they couldn’t care less.

Quirkiest attraction you’ve visited and where

Old town of Prague on a Friday night.

Recommended sight, event or experience

Cambodian family restaurant in Paris. Private collection of Picasso and Klee in Berlin (take the audio guide – you won’t regret it). Talking to people in post-revolution Cairo. Couchsurfing in a village near Luxor. Climbing Mount Sinai at night and seeing the sunrise. Namsan tower. Break dance shows in Korea. Walking in random streets of Berlin late at night. Walk in the woods near Potsdam. Visiting the Peacock island. Blogging at Cafe Kafka in Brussels. Seaside in Málaga. Trying different ‘shades’ of coffee. Málaga’s Contemporary Art Museum and its gift shop. Looking at Granada from a hilltop. Alhambra. Flamenco dance, however touristy. Meeting/discussion/dinner with Spanish eco/human rights activists. Speaking Japanese to a Prague local. ‘Pilgrimage’ to the grave of Franz Kafka just to see how creatively his fans honour him:

Home party in Prague. Listening to live music in a bar in Dublin. Various little things that are difficult to repeat.

Splurge: something you have no problem forking over money for while traveling

Gifts. Especially in Egypt. Staff at small shops compete who will be the most convincing in proving that their (probably made in China) figurines are made of real alabaster. Or show you the difference of fake and real papyrus. Whatever. Just enjoy the game.

Touristy thing you’ve done

Took a ring carousel in Paris. Taking these ‘I’m holding a pyramid!’ photos in Giza. Went shopping in Myeongdong. Sat in an all-tourist pub at Temple Bar in Dublin. Seeing a flamenco show in Granada, marveling at the dancer’s concentration when all the tourists were flashing their cameras right in her face, and a Russian couple were discussing the bar and the woman aloud, thinking that nobody understands.

Unforgettable travel memory

Visiting the chocolate museum in Köln with A. Crazy bus ride to Luxor, with uncomfortable seats, loud movies after evening and morning prayer, and being dropped off in the middle of a field, as the driver said, “Luxor, next station – Aswan”. Sunrise on Mt. Sinai, with our crazy tour guide who was jumping from rock to rock. Entering a mosque with H.

Visas: how many and for where?

To Egypt – very easy, you get it at the border.

Wine: best glass of wine while traveling and where?

I guess somewhere in South Spain… I wasn’t drinking wine much.

eXcellent view and from where?

River Nile from a boat at sunset in Luxor.

Zealous sports fans and where?

At the train station, on the way from Berlin to Bremen.

—

I wouldn’t say that, as the new year approaches, I’d wish myself to travel as much next year. I just hope I’ll find a nice place to spend a longer time somewhere in the world.

Translating between regular language and Economics

Daiva — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 20:47:00 +0200

When I posted these on my Facebook, Nabeelah suggested that I write something for 'Tower of Babel'. The column is welcome to repost this. You can comment the entry on DaivaRepeckaite.com

Have you ever noticed that the best compliment students give their professors is something along these lines: “S/he is capable of explaining complicated things in such a simple manner”? Teaching and research, as well as the media, is often about translation: from specific to abstract, from sound/view to words, from one culture to another. And some scientists work very hard to translate everyday language to the language they share with their colleagues.

Witnessing a cloaca of immaturity in Prague

Daiva — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 23:13:00 +0200

Cross-posted with Daiva.Repeckaite.com - feel free to comment the post there.

Prague is probably by far the most known and popular city in Central and Eastern Europe, with hordes of tourists and large numbers of exchange and full degree students. Some people know Prague as a city of sophisticated culture, the birthplace of Franz Kafka. Others associate it with nightlife and youth. It appears that Prague fell victim of its own success. The city is continuously being reshaped and damaged by the flows of tourism, and locals are losing a sense that the city belongs to them.

My first acquaintance with Prague started on a Friday night – this was perhaps a mistake and I strongly discourage everyone to start exploring Prague from its weekend nightlife. I met some international students using CouchSurfing. Having asked one of them if he would consider staying in Prague, I heard that there was no way he would stay there. He found locals too materialistic and used to viewing foreigners as walking piles of cash. I thought to myself that it’s probably not difficult to get this kind of experience, but still, everything depends on the contingencies of experience.

We went to a club called Chapeau Rouge – an awful, awful place even to someone as tolerant as I am. Apparently, many foreigners develop a habit of going there, alhough I don’t see a reason why they would. The place had boring music, and one of he two DJs looked like she was dead-bored, just like I would have been if I hadn’t been in a nice company. We did dance, and we stayed there for quite a while, because the people were fun to be with, and the whole night was comparable to some of my Erasmus memories, when we would dance to trashy music as if it was the best match to our taste when we were with the great friends we had there. A more unpleasant thing was that here were many people on drugs, with their eyes crossing and rolling, and, even worse, lots of easily identifiable sex tourists. Their looks felt sticky, and in no other club I’ve been to it appeared to be accepted to grab someone’s elbow supposedly in order to start a casual chat on the way to the toilets (people do that on dance floors, but not restrooms). Those are situated along a narrow corridor, not segregated by gender. Having in mind that the typical visitors of that place were quite an unpleasant crowd, it’s better to keep visits to toilets to a minimum.

As I was observing people, I was thinking, what exactly is wrong? They do he same things as others do in clubs around the world (and I’ve been clubbing on three continents and in lots of places in Europe, from Istanbul to Gothenburg). But there was an aura of cheapness and immaturity. Later days in Prague made me think that the poor pretty city is a victim of its popularity among relatively average travellers, who are interested in going somewhere cheaply and letting their destructive energy out.

The tourism industry also exploits Prague’s reputation

According to this Prague tourism website, which even gives potential sex tourists tips how to avoid being ripped off (come on, they deserve it!), 40% of such tourists come from Germany. Overall, the industry employs 10,000 workers and generates over EUR 400,000 in Prague alone. Male and female sex workers are recruited from among troubled orphans and runaway children, as Czech Radio reports. Most start very young and get absorbed into the world of drug addiction, disease and social exclusion.

Prague is, clearly, a popular destination for British stag nights. Those used to make clubbing in Vilnius a rather unpleasant experience sometimes. Basically the idea is that a bunch of men, one of whom is getting married soon, travel to a place they don’t care about and immerse themselves in cheap pleasures. They have no respect for the country and its culture, so many of their adventures are all about showing that disrespect, such as getting on stage to disturb a performance in a bar or peeing on the walls of public institutions. I’ve heard there were pubs in Tallinn who don’t allow groups of British men to enter at all – quite regrettable, as most generalisations are. Behaving with local women as if they were consumable objects is also a part of the ‘party’.

The factors that attract sex tourists to Vilnius and to Prague are rather different. Both places offer very cheap alcohol. But the types that are mostly attracted to Vilnius were those who shun direct pragmatic transactions and enjoy the aura of romance. Those are, as a rule, Southern Europeans. Many young women seem to be interested in getting experience with Southern European men, therefore the transaction involves cocktails, presents, etc, but not cash.

Meanwhile, Prague is known for legal prostitution (whereas in Lithuania buying sex is a criminal offense, following the Scandinavian model). It was quite clear from the first sight, and later confirmed by some I talked to, who has worked in several clubs of Prague, that such tourists would prefer to get what they want for free, but they are ready to pay in case of failure to do so. I instantly remembered a story of two young men from different EU countries trying to get an adventure in Kiev and being told by the women they hit on in a bar how much exactly it would cost. Yet, looking around at Chapeau Rouge, I didn’t see this sobering pragmatism in women.

Something very interesting and worth a compliment is that the industry is at least more gender-equal than in most places. Options are available for women and homosexuals. There are special nights for older women in some clubs. Guess, where do most female customers come from? You are right, Scandinavia.

Yet in any case, this is not about playful liberation of human desire. The reputation of Prague seems to attract frustrated and disrespectful individuals. When I went out of the club, to my horror, I saw that the centre was full of equally distasteful people as in Chapeau Rouge. A young blonde woman was vomiting on the street. A group of drunken American tourists were telling each other about their other parties so loud that one could have taken notes two blocks away. Some women were stumbling ob their high heels just like in London. Like in Tokyo, African men, employed to advertise clubs on the streets, were looking at passers-by and trying to judge whether those can be easily seduced by their club or not. I don’t remember hearing a single word in Czech even once. Sounds, bodies and liquids were flowing in the streets, polluting the serenity of all the old-town buildings, which have seen a lot.

The next day, having constantly bumped into crowds of daytime tourists and kitschy shops designed for them, I had a dinner with a young Czech translator. ‘How do you feel about tourism in your city?’ I asked. He was very polite and started from saying that it was good for the economy and so on. I asked him whether he felt the city still belonged to the locals. Sensing my sympathy, he was now more open and said that most locals simply learn to avoid certain parts of the city at certain times of the week. A typical Czech party would consist of a drink in a bar and a home party.

In the following days I met some totally amazing locals and was indeed invited to a home party. As Friday’s flow of bodies and sounds makes many personal things overly public, social life of the locals has become private. On the other hand, the person I met on Saturday explained that the crisis has reduced some types of tourism, particularly stag nights, so the city can feel a little relieved.

Only when I took long walks on weekdays I realised why so many people in my life are fascinated with Prague. On Mondays and Tuesdays, when booze-and-sex tourists are probably writhing in their hangover, you can see young artists, families with children and senior citizens confidently walking in public spaces that should always belong to them. Prague, the home of one of the best Central and Eastern European universities, lots of creative people, outstanding architecture and the ghost of Franz Kafka, becomes the city that inspires and welcomes people who respect it.

Tourist joys and locals' struggles in Malaga

Daiva — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 19:14:00 +0200

Cross-posted from DaivaRepeckaite.com - feel free to comment the post there!

Malaga, in South Spain, on the Mediterranean cost, turns out to be a particularly attractive place to settle for all kinds of people, especially Germans looking for a nice place to retire. But, according to my friend there, people from all over Spain say they would choose it as a place to live. It was the first city I visited in Spain, and I think I know now why Spain appeals to so many people in my life. Malaga has it all: the sea and mountains, cultural life and comfortable, walkable city spaces.

I set out to explore it with a local, my friend Jose. The story of Malaga starts my first real Spanish tapas:

Tapas are ubiquitous in Spain – in many places they come with a drink by default. The one you see above is called ‘Russian salad’. It is the way of presenting the food, not the content, that makes them unmistakably Spanish. But if you want an example of food globalisation, here it is: this mix is called ‘Russian salad’ in Mediterranean countries, ‘white salad’ in Lithuanian and ‘Olivier’s salad’ (because invented by a French cook) in Russia.

Next, I learn that creative locals have given names to coffee-to-milk ratios in their beloved cafe con leche. You can order a ‘half’, a ‘shade’ and a ‘cloud’ – this is specific to Granada and sounds funny everywhere else.

Cafes in Malaga also take pride in offering very fresh boquerones (a kind of small fish), which you eat with lemon. The gastronomic journey continues in a Cuban restaurant, which offers tapas with strange names and the best mojitos I’ve ever had.

Malaga matches most people’s impression of Spain so exactly that you may think you are in a movie. Many people sit outside enjoying a coffee and discussing something as loud as you would expect Mediterranean people to speak. Much of the town closes for siesta. A road sweeper, who looks like young Woody Allen, slowly, with a cigarette between his teeth, prepares the street for the joys of the evening. A salesperson at a second-hand shop winks when saying hello. Pleople like saying hello to each other, and it is a good idea to memorise everyone, because you never know whom you will need one day.

And yes, people are really practicing for corrida in this photo:

Locals believe there is not much to see in Malaga, and most tourists actually visit many different cities in South Spain, staying for only a couple of days in each. In Malaga, it’s mostly the sea and the sights that attract travellers.

Of course, every northern eye rejoices at the sight of oranges hanging from the trees – very sour though, I tried

As we explore various neighbourhoods, Jose repeatedly mentions: this one used to be dangerous. Why did so many places ‘upscaled’ in the recent years? More involvement of local authorities was crucial. Better infrastructure, more police and many renovations appeared to be quite effective. At the local level, political parties are more practically oriented, leaving behind the usual squabble of national politics. In the past years Malaga’s standard of living has improved, and the airport is being continuously upgraded to bring in more tourists. Even if they stop by on the way to Granada. With upcoming elections, the local government does its best to show off. Even lighting up this building in the expected winner’s colours (my friend says it’s not typical and immediately connects it to the elections this weekend)…

Some other points worth noting are Malaga Contemporary Art Centre and the Picasso museum. The former had an exhibition of mega-large photos of the surface of Mars, edited by a German artist. While some of them were interesting, there was too much white space between them, thus failing to create an impression of being surrounded by this Martian surface, which, it seems, was the purpose. Yet the permanent exhibition is much more interesting, including several abstract paintings and a slow-motion video interpretation of Delacroix, where Liberty trips, falls down and is beaten up by the men who follow her. The museum’s shop sells the most creative souvenirs you can think of. We also visited archeological ruins belonging to the university. The building also hosted an exhibition of art students. The Picasso museum is home to some relatively unknown works and is capitalising on the fact that the renowned artist lived in Malaga for some time.

With all the nature, culture and easy access to Spain’s other cities, you can’t wonder why many people want to live or at least retire here. But the picture is rosy only for tourists and the privileged. With unemployment rate of 23%, and youth unemployment at 48%, Spain is tense and prepared for a social explosion. As I munch on a huge patata asada (roasted potato with corn, cheese and vegetable filling), I listen to young Spanish graduates and students active in youth voluntary work discuss their ideas for the nearest future. Trapped among multiple unpaid internships, unable to afford living in another city, young people in Spain are extremely dependent on their families. They are creative, skilled and enthusiastic, and they know there is a demand for their work, but nobody seems to care. The market is unable to mediate between these people and those who would benefit from their skills and engagement. There is a need for quality press, and there are many unemployed journalists. There is a need for social work, and there are many people who would be willing to do it, if only they could make at least a minimal living. No wonder why many young people have enthusiastically joined the so-called indignados, who are fed up with cosmetical reforms and want a system change. But before change comes, the youth increasingly looks beyond national borders for solutions. Medium-skilled and unskilled workers these days choose Brazil. Many Latin Americans leave for their countries. Highly educated Spaniards’s eyes are increasingly fixed on Brussels. Even if jobs are scarse, various learning, internship and paid volunteering opportunities mitigate the frustrating situation.

Yet others take difficult test to join the ranks of public servants, even though, as everywhere, public sector cuts are strangling its workers. The police sounds as an attractive option. Time will show how the newly recruited officers will feel when they have to deal with their friends in the indignados movement.

The situation in Spain, albeit not as extreme, somehow reminds me of Egypt. With the country’s dependence on tourism and shipping, the population is urbanised, ‘traditional’ lifestyles are not sustainable anymore, but the modern consumerist paradise that young people see on TV and the internet is nowhere near them. There are many fake jobs, which are basically unnecessary paper shuffling, just to keep more population employed. There is no interest whatsoever to take advantage of modern technologies when labour is so cheap.

It is far from true that, as stereotypes suggest, Spanish workers are lazy. They work more hours than their French, Swedish or German counterparts – those who have jobs, that is. Again, the situation prompts people to look at the in-built system features: how is it that some people are struggling to make meaningful use of their skills to no avail, while others are exhausted from huge workloads? This is the side of Spanish reality that is hidden from all the romantic images, something that tourists don’t see. And the continuous reproduction of the stereotype of lazy Southern Europeans directly translates into everyday realities: these countries are seen by many as suited for romantic dreams, admiration and retirement, but not for working together or investment.

It is expected that the right-wing will sweep the elections, bringing more budget cuts and nobody knows what. But for most people reshuffling in seats among the main political parties is not the change they want. How do they work for the change – wait for the next post

Are opinions a security threat?

Daiva — Thu, 14 Jul 2011 17:22:00 +0300

The right to free expression, when it risks harming others' political or economic interests, is a hotly debated issue in Israel right now. In a strange coincidence, the so-called 'air flotilla' (activists flying into Israel with an explicit intention to visit the occupied territories in order to show the world how tourists are sorted according to their views) and a controversial anti-boycott law have become a part of a very emotional debate. While I'm far away, separated by already a year of not living in Israel and not even closely following the news from there, this situation affected me in a strange way.

To tell the truth, I was not very interested in these two issues. I follow them as much as my friends discuss them on facebook and in their blogs. For those who want to have a background story, here's a backgrounder from one of my favourite Israeli bloggers on the anti-boycott law. Here's another opinion from an Israeli newspaper's online English version. Here's why its supporters believe it makes sense (an interesting observation from my friend I.: Israeli news portals are much more critical of the law in their Hebrew versions, while more articles explaining the world why this kind of law would be good are published in English).

Regarding the 'air flotilla', here's the story from BBC. The arrival of activists provoked a rage among some groups of the Israeli population. To restore order, the police had to intervene and actually protect the activists. Here's what an Israeli journalist witnessed.

I did not repost a single link on the 'air flotilla', or 'flytilla', as BBC calls it, on my Facebook or Twitter. However, one undoubting supporter of any of Israel's policy, certain Mr. Julius R., who remembers me from a discussion on someone else's Facebook wall about some of Israel's policies, unrelated to this issue, wrote a threat to me on another person's wall: he claims he has submitted a file against me with my data and photo to Ben Gurion Airport (I'm still considering whether to disclose his full name. Many of my friends know him as someone who tries to make friends on Facebook, and then starts insulting them if their opinions do not quite match that of his own. Mr. R. is a double citizen (Lithuanian and Israeli, maybe more) and, after a long time in Israel, came back to live here).

He claims he did it because 'hooligans' from all over the world are coming to protest against the state of Israel. This is rather funny: I never considered joining the 'air flotilla', and I am not even an anti-occupation activist. I believe that Israel as such has a right to a place on the map, and I strongly oppose academic boycott. Of course, Mr. R. is not interested in any of these. For him and people like him, any opposition to anything that the current far-right government in Israel does is an opposition to the existence of Israel itself. Much of contemporary ultra-Zionism stems from inability to separate states, governments and societies. The world is made of friends and enemies for such people.

Of course, it is not a secret that my opinion about the occupation changed while living in Israel. More or less the only people who helped me make sense of my experience there were leftists. The group of friends that I found never pushed me (or anyone) towards a simplistic "love it or leave it" attitude. They deeply love their country and are worried about its future. I leave it up to them to analyse and comment the situation. Since I met them, I rely on them for news from Israel and repost their wonderfully written blog posts and articles.

Of course, I have a strong opinion about [the absence of] refugee policy and the way the society perceives and treats labour migrants and refugees. Unlike in relation to the occupation of Palestinian territories, this is where I can claim to know more than an average person. I volunteered at the African Refugee Development Center and lived among Filipino migrant workers. One of my best friends in Israel does research on the latter group.

Democratic countries respect people's right to have an opinion, even if it may sound uncomfortable. Exchange of opinions, excluding only those which incite hate or violence, is one of the main sources of vitality of democratic systems. In most democratic countries I would only laugh hearing that someone reported an airport that I have an opinion which is contrary to what the nationalist establishment thinks. However, the airport in Israel is a bit tricky. I have heard stories of people being held and questioned for hours just because some of their travel history or personal details sounded non-standard. One example here. I have many people I love and miss in Israel, as well as some unfinished academic work, so I never know what the airport may think, amidst all this hassle, of a file sent by an Israeli national. Maybe they will not dismiss it as weird and ideological?

A friend of mine, an expat in Israel, encouraged me to blog about this story to expose the new form of bottom-up censorship that is emerging. To the fear of my anarchist friends, it is not a government policy imposed on individuals, but rather, individuals volunteering to symbolically, technically or even physically (as we see in the journalist report above) lynch people with another opinion.

The airport is rather unpredictable. I did not have any problems entering or leaving Israel. One friend told me it makes a difference if you are going as a tourist couple rather than a single tourist. Some people never even noticed anything different than in other countries' airports.

Israel has a strong and vibrant civil society. I always admire the courage of journalists, bloggers, activists and other socially and politically conscious individuals in the face of increasing pressure from various institutions and the extreme right. I have a hope that their initiative and commitment will push the situation in Israel in the right direction.

Let It Be Night 2011

Daiva — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 21:24:00 +0300

Let It Be Night is an annual festival in Vilnius (see post two years ago). It brings together professional and amateur artists to perform at night. Most of the events are free of charge, and many happen outside. The idea is to make Vilnius more of a night city, which it is not. The festival takes place in June, just before academic year fully finishes. This year more than 100 events were promised, with theatres joining in to an unprecedented extent. The whole programme sounded very promising, and, despite the short rain, many people took the advantage to spend the night in the city centre. The Lithuanian media noticed both the success of some events, drawing large numbers of people, and much less success to provide adequate security.

Most of the events were taking place at the same time in different parts of the city centre, so one had to really make choices. However, I knew from my experience from the previous years that some of the events can be cancelled or simply boring. So I made a list of everything I would be interested to see. In the end, Let It Be Night turned out into a late-night hangout for me and my friends rather than a culturally intensive festival.

I did not register to any events that required registration, just to be on the safe side if the rain is unbearable. Weather in this season is unpredictable. I also did not even look at events taking place in early evening, from 6 to 8 pm. I heard testimonies that some of them were very good. We started from the Moniuska square, a concert of “gongs and other archaic instruments”. It was a meditative performance in this partly lit space, creating a special mood, but not something that would invite to stay very long. As my friend observed, you would need to sit down and get into a trance. We expected our next stop to be a sirtakis session at the Greek restaurant on Pilies street. I read that people who went to the first part, starting at 8 pm, really enjoyed it. But my friend, who went to see the second part, expected to start at 10 pm, was disappointed to see nothing happening. So we decided not to check it again and went to the rock’n'roll disco on Sirvydas square (an alternative translation for the Lithuanian ‘skveras’, which clearly comes from ‘square’, is ‘public garden’. The Lithuanian word denotes a small public space with trees, whereas the original English word can refer to a completely paved public space, which is usually large. Yet most Lithuanian guides in English don’t bother and just translate it as ‘square’). The disco was the highlihgt of the festival. The atmosphere was great, there was just enough space for people of various levels of proficiency. The space is really well suited for an outdoor disco at night – it is quite removed from the busy Pilies street, but near enough to attract passers-by. I think he bar that is in this space should consider exploiting this success.

My friends noticed that Cafe de Paris, the main hipster hub, also hosts a nice party. People were dancing, but it was not as crowded as it usually is. We stayed there for a while, although I thought we had rather used the opportunity to attend events outdoors. Since the Town Hall is close, we went to see what it has to offer.

Projections on the Town Hall and some strange tent-like thing with people sitting in its niches were rather boring. We planned to go to the “Holes and dust” performance at the Arts Printing House, but missed it, because by the time we were close to there it was 40 minutes past midnight already.We decided to take a break and eat a kebab at Jokubo kebabine on Pilies str. It has been a kebab place for several years, but it seems that owners have changed. From what I learned, neighbours were very unfriendly and constantly tried to push the foreigners out of this old-town space by making false reports to hygiene authorities. Even if the authorities would not find anything wrong, working time and clients would be lost to the small kebab shop with only two employees.

The place seems to be very popular now though. As we were waiting in a very long queue, we saw crowds of aggressive-looking youngsters shouting basketball slogans and something against the city of Kaunas. They walked around and stood by, shouting their slogans. I could see in the faces of the kebab shop staff that they felt uneasy about the youngsters’ decision to hang out around there. Who knows when such youngsters would turn their unused energy against foreigners. Just then I recalled not seeing any police anywhere in the old town. Maybe the police were hiding? But why would they, knowing that aggressive youngsters may easily take the opportunity to pick up fights on a night like this? The media reports 30 arrests for disruption of public order, but I’m not sure if this only means that people had to actually call the police if anything dangerous happened. Vilnius police is equipped with horses and segways. Their presence would have made people feel a bit more secure. On the other hand, if the police was around, it would have had to fine people who were drinking alcohol in public spaces.

I am totally against the so-called police state and ubiquitous presence of the police in public areas. However, I do not see how Let It Be Night is different from, say, New Year’s Eve. There is a risk of street fight, and a need to be prepared. Perhaps the police was prepared, and the fact that we did not see it does not mean it was not there. In any case, seeing so many youngsters of that particular type (they are called ‘gezai’ in Lithuanian slang) made me feel uneasy for a while. What would happen if there was indeed violence? Fortunately, the youngsters were only shouting. As we walked on, someone from another group of drunken youngsters said an insult to an African student who was with us, but otherwise we did not encounter or witness any violence.

Our next destination was the Cathedral Square, which promised a hip-hop improvisation. We did not see any of that, except for an amateur fire show. The State Small Theatre of Vilnius had promised shows in its front window all night long, but it was totally empty and dead around 1 am. We ended up at Fluxus Ministerija – a new cultural hub with the current mayor of Vilnius as its patron. Several floors of that office building were turned into venues for film screenings and performances, as well as artist residences. This initiative gave its owners, associated with the mayor, considerable tax deductions. Rumours have it that all the artists who have residences there were pressured to vote for the mayor’s party during the local elections, but I’m not sure anyone would say this on the record, let alone under their own name.

This polician has a track record of shady transactions, but many people in Vilnius like him because of the initiatives that were mega-profitable for his cronies and useful to the general public. I do not boycott Fluxus Ministerija, as it hosts many great events, but I always feel it is a duty to tell some facts to people who admire it.

There was a concert at Fluxus Ministerija, which appeared to be quite good. The lead singer had a strong voice, and the rhythm was just right for us at 2 pm. However, as it seemed that the events which promised to last all night ended much earlier, we soon split and went home.

I missed some interesting shows and concerts, but it is never easy with a bigger group and varying preferences. In addition, most events were short, so to see everything you want you would have had to run around without a break. It was definitely worth going there, and it is fortunate we did not witness any of the 30 fights/ acts of vandalism. Comparing even to 2009, Vilnius is more alive at night and people spend more time outside. Wonderland Blog wishes good luck to the organisers

First bubbles of this year

Daiva — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 23:49:00 +0300

Also posted on DaivaRepeckaite.com

As soon as it became warm enough, Laimikis.lt relaunched its initiative called "Bubble the City" in English (in rather unsuccessful search for an adequate term for the creative Lithuanian "Burbuliatorius"). As last year, it takes place in Lithuanian cities and towns, as well as the most popular migrant destinations. The idea is to encourage people to spend time outdoors and do something together in a non-commercial setting, using one of the green public spaces. I have noticed that Vilnius, which, although blessed with open spaces, has rather unstable climate. It drastically lacks public toilets, and many urban spaces that people like become 'overplanned' due to dubious government initiatives, such as replacing old trees, which used to provide comfortable shade, with new, specially designed trees. Being in central Vilnius in cold weather is no fun at all, to put it mildly. Like in many cities, you must buy something to enjoy a comfortable place to sit. Compared to Tokyo, Vilnius at least has benches.

Various activists and groups try to revitalise open spaces of Vilnius and encourage people to spend time there and shape the places to better meet their needs. Sharing of photos online became another way of getting together for the sake of soap bubbles. Particularly because the event takes place at the same time in Lithuania and in Lithuanian emigree communities.

The organisers provide a 'recipe' how to produce particularly strong and large bubbles.

However, it can be equally fun to use the old, traditional methods and fill the summer air with small bubbles.

Thus the event becomes a special day both for groups of friends and families. The organisers encourage any performers or artists to bring their instruments/equipment and perform for the public. The idea is to make the event fun both for youngsters and for families with children.

The Lukiškių sqare, where the event takes place, is likely to change in the future. After several rounds of debates (this time - with a public consultation, surprise surprise) one of the projects for the reconstruction of the square was chosen (all projects were equally useless, if you ask my opinion). There were ideas to build a gigantic monument, but a moderate solution was found. There will be more trees, red sand will be replaced by stones (supposedly because sand gets wet in autumn), and there will be a place where a 'nationally important' monument can be built in the future. While some projects were more open about their intentions to populate the space with more old-fashioned monuments, this one effectively excluded the question of monument from the public consultation, and I wonder whether the idea for the monument will not be slipped in silently. Without any public consultation or public procurement, and not even agreement of experts and architects before recycling, sorry, building a Soviet-style sculpture "Message" (žinia) close to the main city library. It cost the municipality, according to Bernardinai.lt, around LTL 360 thousand (~EUR 100,000), although the statue itself was made in the Soviet times, only a suitable place for it was not found. The black statue of the Roman goddess Diana looks off-topic in the landscape and distorts the image of the public library.

The good news in this context is that Lukiškių square should stay more or less green (although I don't know why it is necessary to plant more trees - they won't block the noise from the busy street nearby, so perhaps it's just for crow breeding?). Yet it is not enough. New structure of space can make it not cosy in an instance. In addition, while the square will be closed for reconstruction, people are likely to lose the habit of gathering there.

My friend, who is an urban sociologist, pointed out that in some ways the fate of Lukiškių square is a cross-generational issue. For many old people the square reminds the past - this is where the main statue of Lenin used to stand (urban legends have it that Lenins were very practical, and the giant statue was pointing at the closest public toilet - now there are no public toilets around for statues to point at). For the young generation it's just an empty space to hang out and... blow bubbles.

Note: This blog follows the rule that photos can be taken freely at public events. If you, however, recognise yourself or your underage children in one of the close-ups and would prefer not to appear online like this, post a comment and I will remove the photo.

Testing

Daiva — Sun, 29 May 2011 21:00:00 +0300

Are Babel Blogs back to life?

Blogging on http://www.daivarepeckaite.com/category/english/ meanwhile

Inequality in us

Daiva — Tue, 08 Mar 2011 22:56:00 +0200

First of all, to start with something positive, happy International Women's Day, I wish you lots of courage, freedom and solidarity, and a better, more equal world for all of us. Unfortunately, with a gender pay gap at 15% and only 3% women in biggest enterprises, with women performing 3 times more unpaid labour at home than men here in Lithuania, real equality still looks like a distant lighthouse in a foggy sea, but it is also the day to appreciate the achievements of today. We have many more choices, and some struggles present in the West are somewhat solved over here. Most women work full-time rather than part-time, and they are not expected to be housewives. Lithuanian women are the most educated in the EU. Mothers enjoy a long parental leave with substantial compensation. Homosexual women are treated with more respect and recognition than before, although partnerships are not legalised and discrimination is not receding.

To celebrate this day, I joined an event organised by an anarcha-feminist association "Feminist Front". We watched some videos and had a discussion about the objectification of women's bodies in advertising and gender stereotypes in general. The event took place at the premises of the Lithuanian Gay League. As I went into a courtyard shared by several unnumbered houses, I got completely lost. Slipping on thick ice, I walked around several times, not able to find the right house. This is for a good reason, I thought. No signs, nothing indicated where to find the Gay League.

This is obviously for security reasons. Insiders know where to look for it, and unfriendly outsiders are not supposed to. While it's only recently that some Lithuanian politicians try to make our country look like explicitly attempting to become a champion of LGBT discrimination in the EU by drafting various legislative proposals that would severely limit the right to self-expression for LGBT people, the society is taking a different direction. There is still a lot of homophobia, but openly LGBT individuals generally do not risk to be beaten up for holding hands or dressing atypically. Yet security concerns are still there. The community can never know who feels like vandalising it or bothering incoming and outgoing members. Therefore it is very difficult to find from the outside. It should not surprise anyone that even when the levels of acceptance will have grown, the internalised fears of discrimination and violence will still haunt LGBT communities for a while. It was just so recently that openly gay or lesbian celebrities or any discussion about homosexual couples as families would have been unimaginable. Tense atmosphere is perpetuated by homophobic jokes and hints at workplaces or among acquaintances.

Another, unrelated observation that I would like to share relates not to the internalisation, but to socialisation of inequality and stereotyping. The traditional Mardi Gras festival happened recently. For most it is only a pancake day, but traditionally there is a parade with lots of scary masks. The aim of the festival is to scare winter away. A few years ago the festival in Lithuania made it to the Israeli press, describing in detail how some participants of the masquerade derogatorily portray Jews. This is true and rather widespread.

A little bit of background here. The pagan festival, close in its content to Halloween and Purim, is supposed to serve as a wake-up call to frozen nature, celebrate fertility liberated spontaneity. A part of the masks were a snapshot of the pre-modern society, structured by clear ethnic-class-gender boundaries. They portrayed not only Jews and Roma, but also doctors and Hungarians, and various regions had other professions and social groups 'represented'. I remember making a mask of an angry old man when I was a child - now I should probably feel ashamed.

Photo source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/andriux_uk_events/

A much larger share of the masks are witches, monsters and devils. Some animal masks are traditionally paraded too - they stem from totems of long forgotten tribes. As anthropologists have observed in various groups, other cultures, or the essentialised 'others', were often perceived to serve as a link between the known everyday world and the unknown. Portraying them in masks had a place in the world of those days, when these cultures were encountered on a daily basis, but largely remained unknown. Jokes and stereotypes were common on both sides, and they were more equal centuries ago.

This is not the situation now. 95% of Lithuanian Jews were murdered in the Holocaust, others faced discrimination in the USSR. At least two big tabloids used to promote antisemitism on a regular basis a few years ago. An antisemitic remark by a minister of foreign affairs was leaked. The Jewish Community building in Vilnius was vandalised. Issues around property restitution cause lots of tensions. The atmosphere is anything but secure and dialogue-friendly. I have no idea why people would perpetuate the tensions with the festival, having in mind that social, ethnic and class relationships that these masks would portray are long gone. And I recently learned that the tradition is far from dying out.

I happened to talk to a primary school-age child. "Do you want to see what game we learned at school?" I was asked. OK, why not. The 'game' only included clapping of hands, moving one's elbows up and down, and stomping one's feet. But the words that come with it (don't look for coherence in children's songs) were something like, "Black Jew, red Jew, Jew Yodl - mak mak mak" [onomatopeia].

"Where did you learn it??" I asked, in surprise, to put it mildly.

"Our teacher taught us this."

"Why would she teach you such a song?"

"She said it's a Jewish game!"

"Why would Jewish people do that?"

Seeing something very remote from admiration in my eyes, the child got defensive. "Our teacher told us so. [Name] was dressed as a Jew, so he was standing in the middle of a circle."

Not being quite skilled in talking to children, I finally formulated some some more questions. "Did he look nice or scary when dressed as a Jew?"

"[shrug] He had artificial side curls, a black hat and a black coat. All black."

"Did the teacher explain you who the Jews are?"

"Nnno... So who are they?"

What do I tell a child of that age? "Well... let's say, they are people of a slightly different culture... You know, like there are Poles, for example..." I realised it was a lame explanation.

"My mom once said they used to live in Lithuania."

"Erm... some still do... What would you do if you met one?"

"Nothing."

"Do you think they would be happy or upset by seeing you make fun of them?"

The child frowned. "I'm not making fun of the Jews! Our teacher told me it's their game. [sings the song again]"

What will I say to this? What would YOU say to this? Children are open-minded. They can accept many things as normal without seeing a contradiction, and do not have a problem changing their opinions. But it's beyond my imagination why educators would, instead of trying to lessen the prevalent tensions, explicitly fuel them. There are many other songs to sing and games to play with children. Unlike their great-grandparents, these children don't know what it's all about. They don't know what discourse they are, without knowing it, participating. They can't be expected to be conscious about these things, but educators can, and they should be held responsible. Nothing like this took place at my school, perhaps because teachers were alert about the presence of Jewish pupils. Have teachers who do teach such 'games' ever thought whether there are actually any Jewish students, silently suffering being forced to name, basically, themselves black, red and other nonsenses? What about mixed-heritage individuals, whose Lithuanian surnames may keep teachers not alert about the existence of cultural diversity in the classroom?

There is just so much discrimination that happens every day without any bad will, unconsciously. Mean, lame jokes about ethnic and religious minorities, unequal treatment of LGBT persons, patronising and stereotypical expectations against women - all of this can be done with a smile and in perfect ignorant innocence.

Lithuania's Independence Day tainted by nationalist demonstration in Kaunas

Daiva — Wed, 16 Feb 2011 21:29:00 +0200

Let us start with something positive on this special day. I would like to wish a happy Independence Day to all citizens, inhabitants and friends of Lithuania. May we all grow together and have an opportunity to see this country become increasingly a better, more equal and more welcoming place for all. Although most Lithuanians do not even know how to celebrate Independence Days (and we have two), although most people probably ended up shopping or simply sleeping longer, it is also a day for popular concerts, passionate speeches and plentiful Facebook greetings. Unfortunately, for many in Kaunas it once again reminded about political tensions that we are experiencing.

Background: Lithuanian Independence in 1918

Debates about the future of Lithuania's nationhood swept the territory for several decades before materialising into a Declaration of Independence. After the ban on press in minority languages was lifted in Czar's Russia, Lithuanian-language media was extensively debating cultural autonomy, and calls for full independence were heard as well. During WWI the territory fell under German rule. To legitimise its rule, Germany agreed to negotiate with leading Lithuanian politicians about the political future. Ideas about self-determination of nations, expressed by both Woodrow Wilson and Lenin, were circulating in the international community and came handy to the leaders of the Baltic independence movements. Lithuania's independence was a product of diplomatic games and extensive negotiations. Initially the plan was to declare partial independence, with an 'eternal union' with Germany. To avoid cultural colonisation, Lithuanian politicians drafted a plan to turn Lithuania into a constitutional monarchy, ruled by a king from distant Saxony. He was to receive a Lithuanian name and formally embody the union with the 'patron', Germany, while Lithuanian politicians would actually run the state. Soon, however, it became evident that Germany would lose the war. Amidst the war, two alternative plans were on the table, until the actual independence was declared in 1918, establishing Lithuania as a sovereign democratic republic. The declaration was followed by international pressures (we all know how powerful states always prefer 'stability', right?) and internal fighting (foreign armies were still present in the territory). The new national army was formed hastily, from volunteers. I know that, enthusiastic about the building of a new state, one of my ancestors also volunteered and applied to get a Lithuanian family name to mark full belonging to the nascent country. Many young men did not return, as the army was poorly armed and organised, but those who did received some land, which automatically made the society somewhat more equal than it was under the Czar, and boosted patriotism. The newborn USSR somewhat supported Lithuania's independence and recognised it before most other countries did.

Lithuania's borders were unstable, and relations among various communities and movements tense. Regardless of the turmoil, there was a commitment to build a democratic republic modeled after France at the time. Lithuanian women enjoyed universal suffrage (something that their counterparts in Portugal had to wait for another 54 and in Switzerland - 70 years), and the writer Gabrielė Petkevičaitė-Bitė was, to my knowledge, one of the first women to ever actually chair a parliamentary session. The Constituent Assembly was convened in order to adopt the country's democratic constitution. Historically present ethnic minorities were not only represented in the parliament, but also had seats reserved in the government. In practice, however, this applied to Jews and Belarusians only, as representatives of the Polish community refused to participate due to disagreements regarding borders, and Russians, to my knowledge, were excluded.

Due to the turmoil I mentioned before, various restrictions on constitutional freedoms were imposed. Communism was banned, freedom of assembly was not fully respected. After the wars were over and Lithuania was admitted to the predecessor of the United Nations, the Social Democratic government at the time lifted a part of these restrictions and took measures to reduce the influence of the Catholic Church in political life. This upset clerics and nationalists, and the military was also unhappy about its funding and power. Increasingly, Social Democrats were being blamed for creating a 'mess' in the country. In 1926 a military coup d'etat, lead by former president Antanas Smetona, overthrew the government, thus ending the short-lived interwar Lithuanian democracy. The authoritarian rule that followed restricted freedom of speech and assembly, 'trimmed' representation of minorities, and spent nearly a half of the state's budget on military. On the other hand, its reforms and economic policies lead to increased standard of living, and many elderly people still remember those times fondly. The 1930s also saw impressive development of Lithuanian education, culture and sports. Yet some historians (can't find the source fast enough, but I read it on one of the main national dailies a few years ago) found evidence that Smetona, the authoritarian leader, received financial support from the USSR, and, consistently with this hypothesis, when the Soviet military took over the country in 1940, not a single bullet was shot by the mega-rich Lithuanian army, as no orders to resist were received. While the first, short-lived Soviet annexation of Lithuania during WWII is called 'voluntary incorporation' in Russia (some leading intellectuals indeed applied for membership in the USSR, but without a democratic mandate) and 'occupation' in Lithuania, the complexities of that period are difficult to grasp. If the hypothesis is true, it would make Smetona the gravedigger of both democracy and independence of Lithuania - two things we celebrate today.

Lessons not learned?

You have already heard from me about the worrying signs of overly tolerant attitudes towards nationalist youth among local governments. It has become a tradition since 2008 that there is a nationalist march on the second independence day, 11 March. I never witnessed any though, but there are many reports and videos of racist and exclusionist slogans being shouted. As I read today, a similar march took place in Kaunas, this time on the day of the first independence. A member of a nationalist party, represented in the municipality of Kaunas, helped to get the permission to demonstrate, 15min, a free daily, reports. While the daily calls the march a demonstration of 'patriotic youth', along with Delfi, which adds that the main slogans were "Lithuania is an ethnic state" and "No! to the East and to the West", the main national daily, Lietuvos rytas, has more information and photos. Reporters of the daily noticed such slogans as "Lithuania for Lithuanians", "We are white brothers". A young Pakistani man was beaten up, the police is investigating whether this has any relation to the demonstration. The leader of Lithuanian National Youth, the organisers, denies any accusations and says that his 'patriots' are peaceful and the attack against the foreigner could have been a provocation of Antifa.

In addition to the feeling of hopelessness over local governments creating a hell for trade union or LGBT demonstrations, but happily allowing nationalists to shout their slogans, this last march has another worrying sign. Take a look at the photo No. 16 on the Lietuvos rytas page report. 'Patriots' are carrying a poster with the date of the coup d'etat in 1926! Something that totally undermines the spirit of celebrating the establishment of the democratic Lithuanian republic in 1918, against the dreams of the mothers and fathers of Lithuanian statehood.

Of course, the authoritarian regime perfectly embodies the ideals of these young nationalists. There was a strong ethnic focus, restrictions of press and political activity, and a strong leader to follow. But glorifying the militarist regime, which did nothing to protect Lithuania's independence in 1940, on the Independence day should be taken as an offense even by right-wing political conservatives who celebrate this holiday. Can I expect their solidarity this time?

Street signs controversy - scary?

Daiva — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 02:10:00 +0200

Are multiple languages in public space an issue? Not in many countries. But in Lithuania there is an ongoing battle over some buses and street signs, which, in addition to Lithuanian, give translations in Polish. A law in Lithuania obliges all public signs (streets, institutions, etc.) to be in Lithuanian. The mainstream interpretation is that this implies they have to be in Lithuanian only.

I have already written (the editors sort of spiced up my text :)) about the controversy of names and public signs. As someone who has been to Novi Sad, where most institutions indicate their names in some six languages, I am surprised, to say the least, at how offended people feel about signs in Polish in the regions where the Polish minority is large or even dominant. Delfi, the most popular news portal, reports on an investigation which they started after a reader sent photos of signs in Polish. The municipality did not wish to explain why they have not been enforcing the law on one and the only language.

Meanwhile, bilingual signs are not a problem in Amsterdam's Chinatown:

or in Israel, where the tension between the majority and minority is incomparable to that in Lithuania:

Needless to say, in the bilingual city of Brussels, where I am at the moment, all signs and announcements are in two languages, and sometimes English in addition to that. In Tokyo English accompanies all signs and announcements - otherwise foreigners would not understand them. One thing that is in common among all these countries is that they do not see it as a threat to either language. Brussels is a more French-speaking city in the Flemish-speaking part of the country. The omnipresence of English in Tokyo is mostly considered cool and desirable by the locals. In Israel you find Arabic on money, in the streets and so on - this is a minimum of inclusion. The difference is, Flemish and French are official languages of Belgium, Arabic is also one of the official languages in Israel, and so is Swedish (spoken by a minority slightly smaller than the Polish minority in Lithuania) in Finland. I would totally approve an amendment that in municipalities where ethnic minorities constitute at least 40%, their language should be one of the working languages of public institutions and present in the streets. Ethnic minorities in Lithuania have press and schools in their languages. It is rather difficult to see how street signs would suddenly be such a loss.

This is not to say that politically mobilised ethnic minority groups are by definition innocent. Predominantly Polish-speaking regions have become areas of politically stimulated tensions, pushy conservatism, and nationalism. Due to some manipulations, in some of these municipalities elections have been declared not free and fair, and had to be repeated. Mobilisation of ethnic sentiments among the poor and less educated parts of the populations in these areas leads to a monopoly of the Polish minority party, which would attribute it to themselves if bilingual signs were permitted. However, the insistence of the government on linguistic purism in the areas where minority languages are de facto working languages does not do anything to relieve these tensions.

Repeating shapes and patterns in Paris

Daiva — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 22:20:00 +0200

I know that Paris is the city that so many people have either visited or seen in films, so if I simply describe what I saw there, I doubt if those of you who read this blog on Google Reader or similar will click on the link. However, there are many angles to look at Paris, and, interestingly enough, its not-so-touristic objects are much prettier and more interesting than those we know of. One interesting thing I noticed was that Paris gives you an impression of being eclectic and artsy, while in fact it is built and kept up in precise order and follows a set of rules. We have already talked about overplanned urban spaces, remember? I guess the key to the success that Paris demonstrates in avoiding something like this is the fact that it is so old, and its shapes have developed and been tested over time.

I found Paris more international than I would have expected, having in mind the stereotype of just how proud the French are of their culture. There are many English words out there, and the city is densely populated with the most famous global catering chains, some of which have become metaphors for globalisation itself. Not everyone would expect that one of the most interesting and bustling spots in the city is an English bookstore called 'Shakespeare and company'. It attracts locals, expats and tourists to dig into the huge piles of books or squeeze past each other in narrow corridors to get a glimpse at this Adorno volume or that new poetry in the upper shelves. No quick way out of this kingdom of books.

There are some smaller bookstores where you have to literally dig into boxes in the hope to find some treasures. And people do.

I think it's a great idea to visit Paris on a sunny weekend in January, when tourists are few and locals are more relaxed, although tourist flows to Paris are a permanent condition. Here (picture below) tourists flock to take a picture of the Mona Lisa. I witness two Spanish youngsters stealing a moment to capture on camera the twirling blue self-portrait of Van Gogh at d'Orsay museum, where taking photos of artworks is illegal. Every day tons of bad quality images from Parisian museums neatly fill albums that will be worthless once the trip is over.

Even in winter you can feel that tourism is not only a huge opportunity for the city, but also a burden. On the other hand, travelling off-season, you may see tourists and locals disperse in the city space so as not to bother each other.

It's not only from above that Paris looks so well-ordered. My photography teacher used to say that repetition is pleasant for the eye. Paris knows how to mix repetition with irregularities. That is why it is often considered one of the capitals of urban design.

Bellow you see a path leading to a museum across a botanic garden. The obsession with perfect shapes of plants looks rather creepy in winter.

The main mosque is a pretty and welcoming space. Note the eight-pointed star that the Baha'is consider the symbol of their religion. It is not surprising having in mind the Muslim roots of the Baha'i religion. The mosque seems to be mostly frequented by believers of African origin.

This is the Centre for Arab Culture (not sure if this is the exact name). Its windows are famous for automatically adapting to the flow of light so that the light balance inside is kept as constant as possible.

Paris is also full of various unexpected objects, shapes and images. Wedding locks, which, to my knowledge, originated in Italy, seem to have spread in Europe, making tourists marvel and causing a headache to authorities responsible for the upkeep of bridges (bridges corrode faster). "This idea is so Catholic!" joked I. when seeing some of these locks in Vilnius, pointing at the expected unbreakability of marriage, which is not so strict in some other cultures.

The highlight of my trip - AvatAdam and NeytEve in one of the many medieval churches of Paris.

Hm hm, I don't know how to comment this one. It is a restaurant on a fashionable Jewish street.

Art museums in Paris are not to be missed. A special collection of African, Oceanian, Asian and native American art in the Louvre was under patronage of the former president, Jacques Chirac. Critics said that it's not the mission of the Louvre to represent all cultures. Enthusiasts maintained that it was about the time the famous museum opens up to artistic treasures created beyond Europe.

The setup is still very colonial. You walk a long way to get to this exhibition, passing flamboyant Italian and Spanish art of the Renaissance and later periods. Art from cultures covering most of the world is lumped together in one hall, vaguely divided by continent/ region, anonymous, with descriptions of each work placed on the walls rather than next to the works. Still, it signifies an attempt to map creative processes of comparable periods to those which are presented in the elaborate European art halls.

True, museums can confirm or confront your stereotypes. In the picture below you see a big fat ass in a crucifixion scene (the painting is also located in the Louvre). Clearly, the painter did not face Inquisition for disrespect of religion. The Louvre is full of deliberately ugly-looking saints and obese infants. The audio guide at the d'Orsay museum explains that many artists used Antique myths as excuses to paint nudes. All these historical paintings educate us about the search of basic humanity, both in subjects and artists themselves. While it took a while for commoners to appear in artworks on the same grounds as saints and mythical figures, human imperfection was sought in saints, gods and demigods, and perhaps offered a soothing comfort to those who learned history and religion from the paintings. It was much later that obsession with perfect beauty started.

The picture below is a feminist provocation at the Pompidou Centre.

It is a part of the very interesting exhibition of provocative pop art of individual artists and groups like Guerrilla Girls.

As good as it is to see the landmarks of Paris, true inspiration can wait for you elsewhere. In order to feel the spirit of Paris, I would definitely trade a cliche bagette or croisant for an inexpensive meal at a Cambodian restaurant on Rue de Crussol. It was recommended to me by my host and guide in Paris, Akvile. A friendly family runs the place, full of colourful images and offerings to gods and structured in a usual canteen style. But you will soon see that there is more than enough room for all kinds of people. Also, it was quite an interesting experience to see what locals would probably call the flip-side of Paris - the metro stop of Chateau Rouge, just a few minutes from the fancy, but, honestly, rather boring Monmartre. It is an immigrant neighbourhood where different rules apply, and one can hardly feel safe there at night. People feel free to shout at each other, trot about in the station and litter everywhere. As we walk to our train, we witness someone stealing a pair of socks from a counter. I was told that the next stop on Line 4 stands out as a spot for obscure tobacco trade. While initially habits of some people created the space as it is, nowadays the space seems to set the rules for behaviour. There is a good chance that people do not behave in the same way as go to the neat and clean Paris of others. Yet this is Paris too, and it's not in the infamous suburbs that foreigners have heard of. It's right next to the Monmartre.

2010 in... songs

Daiva — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 13:40:00 +0200

Dear friends, readers, opponents, etc - whoever read this blog. I wish you a great and inspirational New Year! I hope we will be in touch and continue to exchange ideas. Meanwhile, I prepared a summary of the things I blogged, tweeted, facebooked and thought about. There's no way to embed youtube on Wonderland, so please follow the link.

Sex and violence in the city - dead serious and leading to new initiative

Daiva — Wed, 22 Dec 2010 21:35:00 +0200

A fellow blogger from Israel, Dimi Reider, recently publicised a shocking story, presumably from Tel Aviv, about a shocking case of humiliation, rape and incitement to violence. The victim is a young, recently-arrived Czech student in Israel. The suspect is a local who recently took courses at a 'pick-up school'. He boasts on the forum of raping the student so that there are no signs of violence on her body (in case she decided to turn to the police). The steps he has learned at the 'school' are aggressive pick-up strategy, crushing the victim's self-confidence, exploiting the local-foreigner differences, and using the humiliating approximation while the victim is still in shock. I join fellow bloggers and Israeli activists who demand not only that the suspect goes to court, but would also add that such a school must be closed.

While this particular case may be extreme, the pattern is not so uncommon, so I hurry to provide some tips for young women who are planning to or have recently arrived in Israel.

As we all know, such cases happen everywhere. There is a certain type of men, and it probably takes Uncle Freud to figure out whether they become like this due to low self-esteem and desperation, or mere arrogance. They can be recognised by arrogant belief (perhaps wishful thinking) that they are deadly attractive, overflowing self-confidence, emphasis on sexuality to show themselves that they can achieve something in life, and disrespect for women (let alone their right to withdraw consent at any moment). They do not necessarily behave this way all their lives, and in their natural environment can be perhaps very shy. But in certain situations they start feeling that they have every right to gender-based humiliation of another human being. In spoken English I generally use a much stronger term to refer to them, but for the sake of politeness let's use the common feminist slang - MCP (male chauvinist pig). Especially because we are talking about the Middle East.

As we all know, MCP-ism does not know ethnicity or religion. What makes Israel special in this respect? Israel is a country with prevailing Middle Eastern cultural attitudes and behaviour, but also European standard of living. The particular mix of such qualities as good climate, situation in the region, advanced technology and good education make the country attractive to quite a few foreign students, volunteers and globetrotters. Add Jewish migration - every person with at least one Jewish grandparent can have immediate access to citizenship. So Israelis are very used to foreigners from various cultures coming to the country every year, struggling with the language and the lifestyle, finding that Israel is perhaps more, less, or something totally different than they had expected. Exposure to foreign cultures is a double-edged sword: it both allows more inter-cultural learning (Israelis on average knew where Lithuania is better than many Europeans that I met during my Erasmus semester), as well as forming of stereotypes. Of course, the transnational stereotype of Eastern European women being 'easy' and Eastern European men being permanently drunk aggressive machos, who supposedly produce an if-he-beats-me-means-he-loves-me culture in women, is very much there. Lost and confused foreigners are a usual sight, which some evil-minded locals try to exploit. I was told that nothing is sexier to young Israeli men than to meet recent female Jewish newcomers (olot chadashot), presumably naive, confused, but enthusiastic and Zionistically charged (the attitude is "Let me help you integrate into the Israeli society. Lie down here"). In addition, many men of the MCP type are also happy to make use of non-Jewish students, volunteers, etc, who strive to belong - something that Israel won't give them easily. Men of the MCP type from the Arab minority have similar attitudes - "us" and "them". Sweet and chaste Muslim girls are to be kept when the time comes to settle down, while other women are meant for fun. I guess it works similarly with Christian Arab men of the MCP type.

In addition, serving in the army makes a profound impact on young Israelis' sexuality. All men and all women, except Arabs, have to serve, unless they are ill or have personality disorders. There are some conscientious objectors - I met one guy who took pride in telling he only spent one day in the army - he received his uniform and then carved 'freedom' on his forearm. He was taken to a doctor and immediately dispatched. But those are few, and most young people end up in the army, either fighting in real conflicts or servicing the huge military bureaucracy. The army for many is a state of permanent stress and a mixture of power (holding a gun) and submission (obeying orders). Men are given the power to recreate themselves as classical macho, following abundant 'role models', while women, given power but not full equality, often try to prove themselves - and become more ruthless torturers. At the same time, psychological pressure, taking part in a real vicious conflict and confusion of the young age produce a craving for being close to other people. Some find sincere friendship. While others experiment with their sexuality. The army is where young people often taste same-sex relationships, even if they never considered it before (I have never met so many bisexuals anywhere in the world). The army is where casual, shallow encounters are a normal practice (it's called "going on a night watch together").

Many women often feel empowered by having access to all this force that the army provides. This also translates into their communication with men ("I can assemble a shotgun, and you still want to walk me home for safety?"). Young people learn to be aggressive - to make aggressive passes and to reject aggressively (which gives a feeling of power, but when it becomes a social norm, men start to think they must simply be more insistent). While women are empowered (or, to twist the word, enforced) in some ways, the society is still far away, as Dahlia Scheindlin writes, from accepting the right attitudes, acknowledging that men and women are first of all human beings rather than gendered objects. Serving in the army puts young people under lots of pressure, which, unfortunately, drains them of empathy, by compartmentalising love and compassion to only the closest (at best "the nation"). Even those who work in bureaucratic structures are in some way a part of the all-encompassing conflict. It's not just about learning to run and lie in ditches - anyone can be requested to interrogate and detain actual people, if not kill or defend with a gun. I really don't believe in 'genetic' cultural mentalities - much is produced by the conditions in which people live.

It is quite likely that, against this background, 'pick-up' schools thrive from those who are scared of not quite matching their ideal of a macho. Such schools, which treat women as objects which can be manipulated, further drains respect for fellow human beings. Nonetheless, I believe that a guy like that pervert who raped the Czech student would be more easily identified and properly handled by most Israeli women, who know how to kick ass and assemble an M-16. Therefore he chose a foreigner for his scummy 'practice' and exploited the local's advantage. "That's how we do it here - don't be afraid, we are simply warm and hot-blooded" - this story is familiar to me as well. I spent eight months in Israel, and I know that recently-arrived foreigners, who are being bombarded with cultural difference every day, may sink into a state of half-dream (remember, we can do everything in our dreams except feel surprised). There's too much to be surprised about, so in the end you just go with the flow, fearing that you will never connect to people if you don't learn their ways. Sometimes you get awarded for taking risks, sometimes, as it happened to this Czech medical student, life teaches you a cruel lesson. As expats, we want to meet new people, make friends and get attention from people of the gender that interests us, and subsequently lower our threshold of tolerance for the locals. But I would still like to warn young expat women that in any case they must defend themselves. I think I don't have to remind you basic rules that every conscious individual should know:

NEVER get into strangers' cars or go to their apartments.
Never get drunk or agree to use drugs when alone with a 'sticky' stranger.
Never be too kind or polite to 'sticky' guys who don't seem to respect you.
Always be clear about what you don't want - you always, until the very last moment, have a right to withdraw whatever real or presumed consent you have given, and culture is no excuse not to respect that.
If someone is being arrogant and pushy with you, try treating him as a child, but not in a gentle manner, rather, looking down on him and showing you are so unimpressed.
If it doesn't help, shout at him, but attention - no 'feminine' screaming! It's best to roar in the lowest-pitched voice possible and say something rude so that it looks that you really mean it.
If his words turn to action and you are approached physically, defend immediately. If you are standing and he tries taking you in his arms, some easy strategies that do not require much force are: punching his glasses (if he wears them - not so typical for the MCP type of men), or placing your hand on his face and strongly pressing the eyes (helps even if he has already embraced you - eyes are very sensitive and not so much momentum is needed). If the threat of violence is imminent and you can't help but be violent too, it's advisable to dislocate his knee cap with the outer side of your foot, hit his thyroid with your elbow, or do the classical kick that men fear (aim from the bottom, not from the front) Look for self-defense tips on youtube. While most tricks evaporate under stress, it is good to know some basic things that don't require too much force, but may produce strong pain to the perpetrator.

So basic rules apply everywhere, but there are some specific tips from me as someone who has lived in Israel (and survived many annoying passes):

Remember, if he is enjoying 'local's advantage', the best way to strike a blow at his confidence is to... show some local knowledge. Knowing a few words in Hebrew does the trick (if you are using another language otherwise). Have I told you that one of the first phrases I learned in Israel was "bli yadayim" - "no hands"? Some swear words are good too, and in the Middle East calling an MCP a pig should also help ("what a pig" is "eize chazir", 'ch' is 'kh' like in Sakhalin). Realising that a foreigner woman learns "no hands" before she learns "I love you" in his native language will get him off the balance, and this is what you need.
Continuing the previous point, memorise some 'scary' words, such as 'police' ('mishtarah'), and use them even in a sentence in another language ("After this I'm seriously calling the mishtarah" - and search for your cellphone).
If you are from Eastern Europe, use some super-rude Russian swearwords (learn if you have to). Most young Israelis know them from their army colleagues (army again...). Use them mercilessly, in a low-pitched voice, like an old sailor. Practise in front of a mirror before going to a beach/park/mall. Make it look like you see through him.
Any "Please, don't"s won't work and will only turn them on - you have to learn to be strict and rude. Tell him you don't find him sexy (even if he would be attractive if he wasn't so aggressive).
Don't agree to watch a movie with a stranger or near-stranger at home - in Israel this is a code word.
If someone approaches you on the beach (typically) or somewhere else, and you immediately see his intentions, don't tell that you are a recently-arrived expat. Invent a story. Say that you live here with your Israeli girlfriend, or you came to visit your Palestinian boyfriend and just dropped by to Tel Aviv for a day. While it won't necessarily change their attitudes, it's better to tell them that you are Jewish or 50/50, they seem to take a 'no' in a more gentleman type of way in that case. After losing all hope to 'integrate' you through their bed, they may still wish you a successful integration! Mention your aunt who lives in Netanya since early 90s.
If the man is Arab, you can try telling him that you are engaged. Also, however liberal in their attitudes, even MCP guys seem to believe that there are some religious people out there, who are not to be messed with. The only time I was hit on by a stubborn Arab guy and refused to stay for the night at his place instead of taking the last bus to Tel Aviv, he asked me if it was 'forbidden' to me. "Yes, forbidden," I said, and he immediately cooled off! Beware: the conflict does not influence them the way you might expect. It won't turn them off automatically even if you wear a massive Star of David in your cleavage.
Most importantly: most people in any place are not evil at heart. There may be cases when the guy is annoying and is trying to make an aggressive pass because he is trying to overcome his lack of confidence. There may be cases when he really means that he is interested to talk to you and wants you to trust him. There may be cases when he does not treat you as an object, but really saw you on the beach and immediately liked you, and doesn't want to lose the chance to talk to you. A few (dozens? hundreds?) of miserable MCPs should not spoil your impression of the place you stay in (although it's true that MCP-ism is by large tolerated in Israel due to the dominant militarist-macho culture described by Scheindlin). BUT you should remember: any normal person should understand that you are coping with a cultural shock and all the risks described above. It does not hurt to explain that you have recently arrived and are still figuring out this place and its people, and that you have already had (even if you only heard) some unpleasant encounters with local men. So, it has nothing to do with him, but you just want to feel comfortable and relaxed, so you prefer to stay in a public place or keep a distance. People in Israel are aware of the existence of different cultures, so if the person is ready to listen, he will be able to understand something like, "This is not accepted in our culture, and I need some time to adjust" (actually, it's better to blame more things on culture than it actually influences).
Try to find local friends, as basic as it sounds, and ask them to explain you things and take you to places during your first weeks. Consult them if you go on a date. Use the CouchSurfing site's Tel Aviv group if you have no other options (use it anyway - CouchSurfing Israelis are the best).

It is definitely not my aim to demonise Telavivites or Israelis or men or whoever with this blog post. There are many nice people out there. There were cases when I had a great time chatting with people who came up to talk to me on the beach, as well as cases when sensitive and interesting intellectuals proved to be MCPs. My whole point is to help young female expats to, while hoping for the best, prepare for the worst.

So, with this post Wonderland starts a new initiative - the Global MCP Monitor. I will keep an eye on various stories in the countries I have lived in and in the world at large. We will see what conditions and norms produce MCPs in various cultural contexts, what is the 'safe geography' for women in various cities, social acceptance of MCP-ism and how to not only avoid MCPs and defend against them, but also try to change their attitudes (if you have hope in humanity). Men are equally entrapped in the roles imposed on them, and need to be helped out of them. But if they don't want to, it is always good to know your rights and the best strategies to avoid such types. I encourage young female expats to tell their stories (I can publish guest posts) of the trends they have observed in the countries they lived in, and will scan the blogosphere.

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P.S. The author thanks M. and A. for their self-defense lessons.

Frozen Vilnius

Daiva — Wed, 15 Dec 2010 23:54:00 +0200

December (Lt. 'gruodis') is named after harsh, dry frost ('gruodas'). After several global-warming type of winters, it's already the second which is exceptionally cold. It is -13 at the moment, and if it goes down even more, it seems that eyelids will freeze together after every blink. Like any stronger weather-related phenomenon, snow exposes the mismanagement of Vilnius' streets. Sloping, narrow streets of the old town, when frozen, are a particular torture for old people. But even young ones get injured. It's too dangerous to keep your hands in your pockets, but too cold to keep them outside.

The country is both blessed and cursed with cold winters. Whenever the pavement is safe enough to look up, Vilnius really looks like a fairytale.

Each plant tells a story.

Snow really becomes its dim colours.

The river Neris looks like in early spring.

The silhouette of the National Gallery melts in whiteness.

Cold weather makes people wish not to stick their nose outside and drive to work warmly and comfortably in their car. However, some cars won't start, and people who otherwise drive have no choice but to choose public transport.

In public transport windows are frozen, so there is nothing to look at anymore. More eye contact becomes inevitable. It makes people feel somewhat uncomfortable and look back at the windows, trying to decipher the patterns of frost, which remind of feathers, flowers and algae, or blow hot air, scratch the window and try to stare at the city through a tiny opening.

Vilnius doesn't have a bustling Christmas market or kiosks with hot wine (it would be illegal to drink alcohol in public spaces anyway). But people are already happily waiting - will this snow stay at least until Christmas?

Christmas without copyright

Daiva — Sat, 11 Dec 2010 02:14:00 +0200

I wanted to write a blog post about the classical Christmas songs that have been 'translated' and appropriated by Lithuanian singers in the 90s. But I couldn't find some of them on youtube. Please send them along if you have them. One is certainly here: the original, the copy. Also this one: the original, the copy.

Well, at least no copyright legislation will ever forbid translating 'Silent Night'.

A step into the darkness

Daiva — Thu, 09 Dec 2010 01:13:00 +0200

Though the night is cold and dark.
In our soul, there lies a spark.
Each of us, is one small light.
All together, we shine bright.

(Classical Hanukkah song)

Monuments are better neighbours than people - this idea can easily come to mind when observing how the number of 'functioning' lights multiplies in the chanukiah (special set of nine candles) placed in the Vincas Kudirka square near the Government building. The place, previously known as the Municipality square, has been restructured and a rather controversial monument to the famous patriotic writer, the author of the Lithuanian anthem, was built. These days forgotten debates about his place in Lithuanian history have been reignited, on no other occasion than to remind the population of his 'folkish' anti-semitism (see commentaries by Donskis, Vasiliauskaitė; defense of Kudirka by Zaborskaitė). Kudirka is known for publishing, in the early stage of his career, collections of classical anti-semitic beliefs. Now his monument, which reminds some critics of young Lenin, is a silent, non-pretentious neighbour to the only public menorah in central Vilnius. Seems like a no-drama situation, even though I was paranoid enough to wonder whether the menorah will face a snowball attack from local basketball fans after Tel Aviv Maccabi won against Kaunas Žalgiris in the Euroleague (one of the main basketball championships in the region) on the second day of Hanukkah (I also wonder how many times the Tel Aviv team toasted to the Maccabees that night). But even if the locals had seen a connection, it is Kaunas' team, not Vilnius, that lost.

Unfortunately, bad news arrived from the place I lived in just so recently (and what the connection with Hanukkah is, I will explain below). On Tuesday 'dozens' of municipal rabbis in Israel, paid from taxpayers' money, signed a ruling forbidding the renting of apartments to Gentiles (non-Jews) and particularly Arabs (from as much as I know the context, the ruling is something like a fatwa by Ayatollah Khomeini against Salman Rushdie - people will follow if they highly respect this authority, but there is no universal religious validity). Although the ruling was condemned by many human rights groups and a couple of members of the Knesset, and even the Prime Minister, I haven't heard that any of these rabbis would be fired. Here is a translation of an editorial from Yediot Achronot - there's not much to add. It's just that I can't help but react sensitively to such processes happening unhindered in a place I left so recently. I remember my former landlord, partly observant, who was worried about the multiple pressures resulting from renting apartments for guest-workers (there are plenty, and they already find it hard to find an affordable place). Obviously, I don't doubt his or most of other landlords' sanity. But the ruling will legitimise the racism of those landlords who do want to discriminate (I hope that the civil government will take action to punish them disregarding the local-level religious ruling).
This time the issue is not about the populations of the occupied territories. Demolitions and step-by-step takeover of East Jerusalem have become weekly news in the web of various processes, including military control, desperate violence, poverty, and ethnic prejudice on both (all?) sides. However, the ruling from the religious authorities concerns Arab citizens of 'Israel proper', who have voting rights and pay taxes, from which the salaries are paid to the municipal rabbis.

And more than that. As for non-citizen tenants, this would mean even more stress and additional costs. Non-Jewish students, interns and volunteers (and there are more of them than you think) will feel more unwelcome, and guest-workers already know they are unwelcome. Many of these people are anything but rich, which pushes them to live in cheaper, suburban, often more religious areas (of course, secular persons or non-Jews are unlikely to move to Orthodox neighbourhoods). Of course, as I said, there's no need to panic. Most landlords are sane and economically-minded. There are many ways to sub-rent rooms from open-minded students and young professionals (although I think, while living there, I've heard of only one Jewish-Arab household, and no Israeli-guest-worker households - on the other hand, sharing apartments between Israelis and volunteers/ foreign students is common). However, if the ruling goes unpunished, it will create a tense atmosphere: landlords who are ready to rent will know they are now fewer and may use the ruling as a tactic to threaten the foreigners that they must hurry to accept any offer they receive, because others 'may not want to break the religious law'. The bargaining position of already very disadvantaged tenants will become even weaker. Let me remind you that housing prices in Israeli cities are already insanely high. I don't know what the situation of Arab tenants is - I assume there is, like in Europe sometimes, accent-based discrimination when talking on the phone and the like. But from what I know, most Arab citizens prefer to own a place rather than rent, so the ruling would put mobile people, such as students, in a disadvantage.

Unlike pre-war Germany that many comparisons have been made with, Israel [still] has active civil society, and various groups immediately mobilised to oppose this disgusting abuse of religious authority. And what I found particularly inspirational was that people made creative use of Hanukkah symbols. Once again, Hanukkah is the festival of lights, which conveys a hopeful message about what is believed to be a miracle of endurance. Celebrating a historic victory, the oil for fire in the temple, rationed for one day, was enough for eight - the inspiring multiplier effect is very relevant to the situation of the civil society in Israel today. Here a human rights activist, critic and poet Yuval Ben-Ami (you have read about my adventures with him) holds a poster which reads "We have come to cast out racism" at a demonstration against the ruling. The poster makes a direct reference to the Hanukkah song that I quoted at the beginning of this blog post (the literal translation of the first line is "We have come to cast out darkness", further - "in our hands - light and fire"). It is really impressive that the active people in Israel carry and cherish the small lights in themselves and manage to put them together when needed - they are under much more pressure than similar groups in Europe.

Public transport in Vilnius: survival game

Daiva — Sun, 28 Nov 2010 01:52:00 +0200

One day as I was on the way to my office with my flatmate, a bus, navigating through a traffic jam, suddenly hit the brakes, having most people grab anything they could hold onto. One passenger (approx. in her 60s) did not do it in time. She flew towards the front of the bus, lost her balance and hit the glass. Someone helped her to stand up and sit on a seat. She was sitting there, holding her head, moaning, and people were watching what will happen next.

This is something I dislike most about the local culture. The "see what happens" attitude does not allow more effective handling of minor crimes that happen on public transport. People get pickpocketed, sometimes when it's crowded, but often because everyone is afraid to say something (you never know if the pickpocket has a knife, so these fears are not ungrounded). Insults often get unnoticed (here are some insults that an American student experienced in Vilnius). There have been cases of someone being stabbed to death in public transport - other passengers did not do anything while the fight was escalating.

In this case, again, the injured passenger was obviously alive, she did not lose her consciousness, so perhaps it didn't alarm other passengers too much. Me and my flatmate, after some discussion what would be the best way to call her an ambulance, went to her and I asked how she was (in Lithuanian). She responded (in Russian) that she hadn't had a blackout and was not feeling sick, so she didn't think she got a concussion, but was experiencing terrible pain. I turned to the driver and knocked on the glass separating him from the passengers. "Do you have a first aid kit?" I asked, mostly because I was stressed and worried - typically first aid kits are designed to treat wounds only. The driver made a gesture asking me to wait, and pulled over in the next stop. Then he went to the passenger area and straight to the suffering woman. "Show it to me... Oh, this is nothing." he said (there was really no wound), and then raised his voice to speak to other passengers, "You saw it themselves - I didn't stop the bus too fast. Nobody else fell down. You witnessed that, right?" "Sir, you will discuss it later, she needs help," I said, desperately. The driver repeated to me (in Russian) what he said to the passengers. "This person needs help! Can't you leave your discussions for later?" I shouted in Russian, already getting furious. Meanwhile, another passenger, who was getting off the bus, said, "You did stop the bus too fast. You don't behave with people that way!" The driver got into a discussion with her, trying to prove he was not to blame, and then.. got back to his seat.

Meanwhile the injured woman called her family and made sure they will pick her up at a bus stop. She didn't want to go to hospital. So we got off where we had to go, with an uneasy feeling. Of course, the whole story did not end as bad as it could have. I heard stories of people falling on top of each other and someone breaking their leg on a bus, and my own shoulder was dislocated when a bus stopped very suddenly in a traffic jam. I bet in countries where driving is even crazier it happens more often. But what struck me was this egoism, when the driver first hurried to gather witnesses and prove it was not his fault before even paying attention to the suffering of the passenger.

You may ask, how is it that I'm not used to nobody ever being responsible for anything?

How people meet and greet

Daiva — Sat, 27 Nov 2010 22:08:00 +0200

My Lithuanian blog has become a battleground for a very serious discussion. But unless it escalates more at the international level, I will allow myself some autonomous space to keep writing about urban life and people - here, on my English blog. I have several ideas, so don't be surprised at multiple posts.

Something from yesterday really amused me, and, since posting it on FB, I had some new ideas. So, the temperature dropped to -8 degrees of Celsius, perhaps about 10 degrees lower than last week, and unusually warm November suddenly became icy winter. It caught most of us completely unprepared (clothing-wise), and, I was going out in the evening, I thought to myself, "I really miss Israel in such moments!"

A few hours later I happened to meet some people from Vilnius' small but very interesting American community, together with their local friends. I was introduced to one person I only heard of before. After the usual exchange of names, he asked me if I was from here, to which I answered. Having taken a second to study my face, he then asked, "Are you also from the Tribe?" "The Tribe?" I frowned, puzzled. Other Americans hurried to explain, but I didn't need an explanation. Earlier that evening I saw two other Americans meeting, and in the first five minutes one also asked another if she was Jewish, clinked a bottle of beer against hers, wished her a good Shabbat and left.

Wait wait, I thought I said I missed the 'avir' (weather) of Israel, not the 'avira' (social atmosphere)! But it made me think... Maybe I was too harsh on the Israelis? Maybe it's only us Europeans who are taught it's a no-no to believe that ethnic/etc belonging is key information about people? And maybe too many of us Europeans have read "The Little Prince" and learned from this adorable quote:

"Grown-ups love figures. When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you, "What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?" Instead, they demand: "How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?" Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him." ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince, 1943, translated from French

Reading "The Little Prince" in Hebrew. Still

Special offer: fly cheap, feel worthless!

Daiva — Mon, 08 Nov 2010 22:10:00 +0200

You will not believe it, but a week ago was the first time I flew Ryanair, the cheap Irish airline whose brand is known as widely as Coca Cola in Lithuania. Cheap airlines, like it or loathe it, represents a change in culture. Flying is no longer luxury, which is not because airlines are kind and benevolent, but because the growing migrant and otherwise mobile classes have created a new opportunity structure for businesses. Some say that Ryanair is planning to earn solely on secondary products and advertising, making flights themselves almost free (my outbound flight cost 5 EUR, but the card fee was twice higher). On the way back, I had a chance to experience contacts with the 'new' travelling Lithuanians, who are so often mocked at by various bloggers and writers. Not only that, I had a chance to look into something that is also a part of the routine for frequent travellers in cheap airlines - inconvenient airports and unfriendly staff. The whole thing was very interesting.

To start with, cheap airlines are not made to be comfortable - for any comfort you pay extra. Which is fine, because many people find comfort superfluous, and all they want is to get from point A to point B. I heard that the bad quality of air on AirBaltic and Ryanair planes is due to the fact that the air is not filtered as it enters through the engine. But I do not know how to cross-check that, so do not take it as truth value. Chairs, especially in Ryanair planes, cause problems for taller people, and it's impossible to lean back. Needless to say, there is no food provided, except for overpriced food and drinks for sale. There were plans to make planes without toilets. Check-in luggage has to be paid separately and costs around 30 EUR. Otherwise the limits are 5 kg bag (excluding handbag, camera and umbrella - tested) for AirBaltic and 10 kg including everything for Ryanair.

Already on the way to the Schoenefeld airport I could see that the airport is rather far away from the train station. Morning cold, darkness and the clattering of suitcases' wheels surrounded me along with many other Lithuanians I could already identify. The airport announced the check-in gates already outside - check-in is not necessary for many people like us, since luggage costs extra, and boarding passes have to be printed in advance (another specialty of cheap airlines - a 40 EUR fine for not bringing a boarding pass in advance would make one remember the cheap flight with bitterness for ever).

As I mentioned before, many middle class Lithuanians (e.g. those who write/read Pravda) like cheap flights, but often feel ashamed to associate with the other travellers - typically much less educated, loud and impolite new migrants and friends of those. I remember a commentary from Pravda, when the author was annoyed at the typical custom of clapping hands when a plane lands. Also, there is the usual stuff - the cursing, the slang, the music, played loud from mobile phones... In my case the waiting hall was full of Lithuanians, and some of them were chatting in the usual slang that I would not even be able to translate, so loud that it was possible to take notes in 5 m distance. It was fun - I was imagining a hipster with a Macbook feeling ashamed to be Lithuanian in this situation I recently finished reading travel stories by Andrius Uzkalnis, the author of a bestseller "England". He was also looking down on those who fly cheap airlines and emphasising how much comfort and respect means to him, but trying not to judge anyone. I must admit that a thought crossed my mind that foreigners can easily confirm their stereotypes about us, because they would not notice the 50 quiet ones around the 10 loud ones. As we were waiting, a very unclear voice informed that the plane is delayed for 1.5 hours... It is not typical for Ryanair, which boasts most of the time keeping to the schedule. Frustrated, sleepless, we chatted around: maybe someone heard it differently? When the original time to take off came, we were informed, this time in a clear voice, that the flight will be delayed for 2.5 hours in total. I went with the wave of people who rushed to the security check, but a very serious and not very communicative, to say the least, guard told us a short and simple "No." "Sir, is there any information counter that we could access?" I tried. "Our flight is delayed for more than two hours, so are we entitled to any compensation" (read EU passengers' rights here. The distance between Kaunas and Berlin, from where I was flying, is less than 1500 km, which I did not know). "No." "What about any phone number for information?" "No." Anyone who holds stereotypes about Germans could have confirmed at least some. Of course, I am not naive to expect a meal, like I got when my flight from Japan was once delayed (unlike the staff at Schoenefeld, the Japanese airport employee who got the unfortunate task to inform passengers about the delay seemed to be willing to tear his heart out if that helped to speed up the flight. But of course, there are no business class passengers on Ryanair, so probably nobody feels a need to be nice. As people were crowding close to the non-Schengen sector, and boarding for a flight to Moscow was about to open, an officer from the passport control made a "shoo shoo" hand gesture towards young Lithuanians with big backpacks.

The waiting hall had several souvenir shops, some of them with chocolates and soft drinks, a Burger King, and a fancy shmancy organic bakery. Having a choice of hand-squeezed (!!!) juice for 3.9 EUR and a Coke for 2.7, I chose the latter (not only because I don't find it a good idea to drink sparkling drinks in the morning, but also because I was interested in how good it was supposed to be :)). A guy standing in line before me tasted their buttermilk before buying, and made the unhappiest face ever, realising that he will have to pay 4 EUR for what he does not quite like. Perhaps the name sounded confusing - what can go wrong with -milk?

As I was back to the gate where most Lithuanians were sitting, someone was playing Russian reggae from his cellphone, and most of the loud youngsters were lying on the ground, munching on food from Burger King and impressions of what a big discount they got for the food. A Russian-speaking child told his mother, "Look, everyone is lying here now!" It felt somewhat rebellious, and at that point I felt some kind of togetherness with the uncomfortable, non-rule-abiding Eastern Europeans who were stuck in the same trap. Yes, nobody wants us in their countries or institutions, but like it or not, we will travel, hunt for discounts at Ryanair, hunt for discounts at Burger King and lie around on backpacks if needed.

The three previous paragraphs were written at Schoenefeld airport, 9.29, 1 h 11 min before the plane actually departed. After another hour of waiting, and about 25 min of waiting in uncertainty inside the actual gate (without a bathroom), the plane took off. My short sleep was disturbed by loudspeakers constantly announcing: on-flight magazines will be distributed, now you can buy drinks, now you can buy perfume, now you can... I did not even notice all these things on the way to Berlin. Obviously, the joy of travel makes all the little annoying aspects of cheap airlines and cheap airports invisible. It is not out of good will that they are cheap, they see that it is a good business model. People need to get from point A to point B, and will survive any inconvenience for that purpose. Just like their forefathers did when they boarded ships in cellars for goods to go to the US and earn money to start their own farms or shops.