Dievs Svētī Latviju

Choppers fly past Riga castle

…or ‘God bless Latvia’. It’s Latvian independence day and I’ve just witnessed the modest but enjoyable military parade.

Even better was the warm feeling of the crowds looking on. It reminded me that, like the emotions generated by the twentieth anniversary of the Baltic Way earlier this year, Latvia deserves to be a proud and independent nation and has done more than most countries to earn its status. If it can tap that well of feeling and strength, Latvia has many good years ahead of it.

Perhaps the best proof of that came later in the day. Having interrupted the celebratory atmosphere to report Lithuania’s first death from swine flu, I dropped in at my local cafe, which has already cropped up in these pages as an example of Latvia’s potential.

The cafe was closed on this day last year despite the thousands of people swarming over Akmens Tilts (the Stone Bridge) to watch the evening firework display. The rather grotty off-licence was the sole facility catering for them and a long queue formed with revellers allowed in one by one as others exited.

Realising their missed payday, this year the cafe’s owners are keeping it open. In fact a sign on the door says it will be open “until the last client leaves”. The tables are decorated with candles, fresh cauldrons of carbonade and potatoes are simmering away and even the napkins have been ordered in such a way that they resemble the Latvian flag. And as previously noted, this in an establishment where the owners usually (but by no means always) address each other in Russian.

Working as a journalist I inevitably spend a lot of time writing about things which aren’t necessarily pleasant – after all news, like any story, is essentially a record of unexpected disruptions and most unexpected disruption has negative consequences initially.

But even while writing about a corruption scandal, a depressing crime or a piece of political incompetence I still consider it a privilege and a pleasure to live in this country which, to tell the truth, I love rather more than my own.

Book Him, Vello!

Ideal for filling a traditional Estonian stocking this Christmas

Like the number 10 tram, you wait years for a good book on Estonia to come along, then two come at once.

Eestiphones and Eestiphiles can already enjoy Justin Petrone’s Minu Eesti (the rest of us will have to wait for the promised English language version). I’m confident I can say that it’s great without actually having read it as Justin is the most consistently entertaining Baltic blogger and, more importantly but not coincidentally, a very good writer.

Now we also have Vello Vikerkaar’s Inherit The Family – Marrying Into Eastern Europe. I’ll get the one negative thing out of the way first – the cover’s a bit nondescript and the title it bears is a bit misleading, if only because it might cause those unfamiliar with Vello’s oeuvre (this is a book review – when else will I get the chance to use such words?) to expect one of those godawful “aren’t-they-amusing-and-rather-Ruritanian” travelogues written by people from the Sunday supplements who think patronising sarcasm extended for long enough eventually forms a kind of insight.

In fact Vello’s tome (there’s another review-only word) is the exact opposite of such flimsy offerings from writers who define themselves as outside observers. He hasn’t swanned into Estonia for a couple of weeks, he has committed to the place 24/7. He’s an outsider trying to be an insider but only making small, slow, advances. The painful rate of progress periodically leads to massive frustration which explodes in a sort of impotent, absurd exasperation that is painfully familiar to those of us treading a similar path.

Luckily it generally only takes a few minutes to calm down and revel in the sort of comic situations that only real life could possibly throw up, including a memorable life or death struggle over a rabbit hutch and musings on the geo-economic factors that result in a covertly homosexual companion for Barbie being foisted on Eastern Europe.

Vello also debunks a few myths that I would rather have stayed bunked. If this book actually gets into the hands of locals they may finally realise that foreigners are generally much less interesting and intelligent than they give them credit for, and that foreign journalists in particular are more likely to be hopeless hacks than secret service men. Apart from me. And Vello. Not sure about Justin.

But best of all Vello exhibits the brevity and discpline in his writing that is a direct result of being a newspaper columnist rather than a mere blogger. Blogs are almost invariably self-indulgent and over-written (witness those earlier asides about words you only use in book reviews and indeed this self-indulgent aside you are reading right now) thanks to the absence of a sub-editor and formative encounters with intolerant editors. Vello’s columns are lean, funny and quick, so he must have had such encounters.

The brevity of each self-contained chapter makes them perfect bathroom reading material. Saying they are the ideal accompaniment to a bowel movement may not be something Vello will appreciate overly, but honestly there is no greater endorsement I can give them as a large part of my literary education takes place on porcelain.

Ultimately I think Vello protests a little too much about his inability to fit in with a varied set of dramatis personae which includes a whores’ choir, numerous semi-comatose tradesmen and the genuinely surreal unexplained acts of assorted relatives. He’s much more of a genuine Estonian than he likes to let on.

Estonians are sometimes portrayed as humourless and unimaginative, not least by themselves, and certainly by Latvians and Lithuanians. But I think they have the most attractive sense of humour of the three nationalities. Whereas Lithuanians go for slapstick and Latvians laugh at broad farce, the Estonians seem to have a dry irony that frequently manifests itself in self-deprecation and is actually rather sophisticated. And that’s the attitude Vello captures so well.

Inherit The Family also has one of the best opening lines I’ve read for a long time, so buy it for someone you know and make them laugh on the toilet. That way it doesn’t even matter if they wet themselves.

Inherit The Family by Vello Vikerkaar is available from Amazon.com.

Double Or Quits?

She certainly looks the part... (Picture: www.vvf.lv)

“She hasn’t got a hope,” I said when the first rumours started flying around that former Latvian president Vaira Vike-Freiberga might be coaxed out of retirement to stand for the presidency of the European Council.

I was very wrong. The odds of “VVF” landing the job of “Mrs EU” seem to be shortening by the hour. The reasons are several.

First, there’s the weakness of her rivals – or, one should say, her probable rivals. Most of them haven’t even had the balls to say they want the job for fear of looking stupid when they don’t get it. That shows what a lot of vainglorious political animals they must be. Not even the sole “celebrity” candidate, Mr Sincerity himself, Tony Blair, has officially said he would like to be the President. Such apparent modesty is of the false variety.

This points to how VVF’s campaign has really “gained traction” as the banal phrase has it. No, let’s put it in simple terms: this is why VVF’s candidacy does actually have a point.

“It should be made known to the public at large who is competing for the job and the governments should have a choice rather than having one single candidate presented to them. That seems to be an elementary aspect of democracy.” Vaira Vike-Freiberga, Nov 16.

In illustrating out how shabby the whole selection process is, St Vaira has shown she isn’t afraid to speak out against the very institutions the likes of Blair and Van Whassisname from That Place in The Low Countries are trying to snuggle up to, if she feels it is in their best interest.

She looks decent, as if she cares that the citizens of the continent should at least be given the courtesy of a being informed about who would like to represent them. She’s calling the EU’s bluff on all sorts of matters: whether it takes gender equality seriously, whether it values its newer members, whether the Lisbon treaty is really designed to improve democracy or merely make life easier for eurocrats.

“Somewhat more openness and transparency would be advisable, especially as this is the first time we are indulging in this exercise. It would have been a wonderful opportunity to open up the process and really answer to the needs of citizens. “

Perhaps this hasn’t all been a calculated master plan on her part. Maybe there is an element of hubris in her bid as there must be among all those coveting the historic role of Europe’s First President. Just think how many streets and convention centres you’d get named after you.

Estonia’s President Toomas Hendrik Ilves has also put his name forward, if somewhat cautiously, for both the presidential role and the foreign policy brief. He has more chance of the former than the latter, and little chance of that. He is just as qualified as VVF – perhaps even more so – but somehow his candidacy doesn’t seem to have picked up any steam. Maybe the rest of Europe doesn’t “get” his penchant for bow ties, but more likely the rest of Europe thinks complicating ties with Russia is more bother than he’s worth.

There’s an element of right person, right time that seems to rule Ilves out but rules VVF in. It’s remarkable that no-one had given much thought to how the European president would actually be selected, but that’s what’s happened and the impression is that it’s all being worked out on the back of Frederik Reinfeldt’s fag packet.

Regardless of her ultimate motivation, VVF is playing the modest hand she was dealt with the skill of a Mississippi riverboat card sharp. Who’s to say she can’t keep doubling up and hit the jackpot, particularly when most of her rivals seem to think they are playing Snap rather than Brussels Hold ‘Em?

As one journalist put it at today’s joint press conference of VVF and PM Valdis Dombrovskis, the fact that El Presidente is apparently going to be picked over dinner in Brussels amounts to “a slap in the face for democracy” though it admittedly makes a change from light jazz as an accompaniment to the crudites.

If no decision is forthcoming by the time the EU bigwigs reach for the cheese and biscuits, perhaps an impromptu game of “pass the parcel” could decide the matter?

“Somewhat more openness and transparency would be advisable, especially as this is the first time we are indulging in this exercise. It would have been a wonderful opportunity to open up the process and really answer to the needs of citizens.