Greetings from Vilnius

Greetings from Vilnius:
On Friday morning I looked out the window and there were tiny flakes of snow attempting to make it intact to the ground. Those who made it would quickly melt as the temps were just not sufficient to keep them. Giedre said that this was not snow and we joked about what it would take for her to consider it to be so. Well on Easter Sunday we found out. We awoke in Vilnius to a lovely white blanket of 3-4 inches of the fluffy stuff and everyone was shocked. It had been so warm the week before. We told everybody how great it was, and they just gave us this look of varying degrees of disgust, amazement, and disappointment. This was not great, they said. This is what they put up with all winter, and now it's supposed to be spring, where they break out the bright colors after a winter of black: coats, stockings, hats, trousers, shoes, and whatever else they wear. The streets look like a huge line of mourners all coming and going to the same funeral. The stores are full of bright, happy colors, but the people still aren't wearing them.
It started to get warm and now, just when they thought it was safe to go in the water again, here comes this huge snowstorm which covered half of Europe. We hit the road heading for the coast and the longest natural spit in the world, a 50 mile long, 1/2 mile wide piece of sand separating Kaliningrad (Russia) and Lithuania. To get there, we had to negotiate the storm, lots of shaky drivers. and snow which got as deep as 10 inches and narrowed the road to one lane at times. At one point our road got narrower and narrower and finally when we hit a spot which was not covered in snow, we saw that we were on a dirt road. We had obviously taken a wrong turn. We turned around and flagged a car down and with our best Lithuanian grammar (actually a finger pointing in the direction we had been going and saying the name of the town Polanga) we got this strange look and a "ne, ne, he" He pointed in the opposite direction and we retraced our steps and found the error of our ways. Mother will be happy I can still do that.
We picked up a couple of girls (16 and 18) hitchhiking in the snow and took them to their town. One spoke excellent English and she was a veritable fount of conversation. We dropped off little sister where mom worked and took Rosita (no she wasn't Hispanic) to her house. We stopped at this hill of crosses which developed hundreds of years ago. There are over 100,000 crosses there now. Crosses hanging from crosses which are attached to bigger crosses which in turn lean on bigger crosses. People come from around the world to leave Rosaries and crosses. The pope came a couple of years ago and the place really took off. The Soviets would cart them all away at times, but the people kept coming back and leaving new ones. It's very other worldly. Lots of people hitchhike. We’ve given rides to a woman who lived in one town and worked 75 miles away because there was no work in her town, an old Russian peasant woman who we now refer to as the "Curd lady," because of the heavy smell of cheese, a sister and brother who spoke no English and others for shorter rides. We have a big car and lots of room so why not, it makes for an interesting journey. Rosita gave us a couple of dyed Easter eggs she had made, a tradition not unlike our, except that they take theirs to church to be blessed before giving them away. She wants to study computers, but they have no computer, TV, car or other amenities. Mom works in a cafeteria, while dad was kicked out "thanks to God," because he "liked to drink, and beat my mother." Every body dreams of coming to America and the better life. Many have relatives who got out in the mass migration following WWII and the Soviet takeover.
The whole region has been going back and forth, partitioned, taken over, conquered so many times that everybody seems to have a claim on towns, coastal areas, and land in general. Germans, Lithuanians, Russians, Finns, Swedes, Poles, and assorted tribes have come in and set up shop at various times in the last few centuries.
But the spirit of the people is well intact. Giedre was the only one who spoke of things being easier in the soviet times. She could travel. Yes it was only in the Soviet Union, but it was big and had lots of variety. Now she is free to travel wherever she wants, but is too poor to do so. She is 37, unmarried, and still lives at home. Consider that, Ang and Jeff:-)
We made it to our sand spit at the end of the day and were greeted by a group of wild boar, a fox, a flock of wild sheep, a hedgehog, and lots of very different birds. The sun smiled brightly at us the next morning and we enjoyed our walk in the lovely woodland along the beach where Carol filled her (read my) pockets with rocks of various colors .Amber washes up along the beaches and she gathered a couple of dozen pieces of this fossilized resin. The amber in the museums has lots of bugs encased in them: spiders, grasshoppers, ants, and lots of other things I didn't know lived that long ago. Carol, of course, thinks all of this is tres cool. I'm fascinated, but that pales in comparison.
Of course it rained following the morning, but at least we had one period without precipitation. Our only one so far on the entire trip. But that doesn't dampen our wanderings.
The food has been wonderful. Great spices and mixtures of vegetables with a little meat thrown in. Everything is very natural and sits well on the system. One item which didn't quite measure up was what they called Zeppelen's. They are shaped like the old blimps and have the texture of four day old mush which somebody forgot to take out of the pan. In the middle of this dumpling, as they are euphemistically called, is a sausage. A gluttonous mass of tasteless goo, we were had we had them, even though most of it was left on the plate.
Car alarms are a constant cacophony of sound in the Baltics. When I picked up the car the rental guy set it off by accident. A constant pressing of buttons, lock, unlock, and trunk in some magical sequence silenced it. When I asked him how to shut if off should it happen to me, he replied that he didn't know how he set it off, much less how he stopped it. It seems nobody understands how or why they go off, certainly I don't. It's happened to me twice, and I get it stopped, smile at Carol at my creative mind, and it goes off again. This process is repeated four or five times until I finally get the write combination and silence it for good. But they go off everywhere all the time. Nobody has the slightest reaction to them. Nobody gets annoyed like they would at home; they just accept it as a part of the new technological age.
All the Balts are involved in a conspiracy against the police. Probably some latent holdover from "Soviet Times," (their favorite phrase). Whenever there is a police man or car hiding trying to catch speeders, one mile an hour faster than posted will get you nailed, everybody warns the people by blinking their lights. Hence you drive the correct speed until you pass them and then speed up blinking your lights at the unaware coming your direction. It is a marvelous system and with narrow, windy roads enabling forewarning, getting caught is truly by accident. They like to hide at places on curves where the speed drops to 50 kph (31 miles an hour). You can't slow down when you hit the speed zone; you have to be going that speed when you pass the sign. Lots of time you have little warning which brings on a hard brake.
The euphoria over independence has worn off and the harsh reality of trying to rebuild a culture, economy, and system of government remains a difficult one indeed. There is lots of enthusiasm and optimism. Feeling that their problems are at least their problems and their opportunity to solve them. Down sides include drug trade, gangs, graffiti, and lots and lots of poverty. In Moscow, Bella and Ludmilla are world class scientists making $50 a month. But each has a car, cell phones, computers, and in the case of Bella, a TV in each room, "I'm addicted," she says. They make it by engaging in entrepreneurial enterprises where they can take part in the new capitalism. Bella has a hepatitis clinic where people from around the world come and get the tests, 25% of Russians are susceptible. They can charge western rates and therefore can make it. They laugh at the taxing system. There is no method for collecting taxes outside of the old regular jobs. So they only pay taxes of their "Jobs." and have no intention of paying on their real incomes. "Everybody knows the government is corrupt, and steals all the tax money," they say. So they keep their income. Of course the state has no money to fix the infrastructure since only about 10% of the economy is taxed. The 90% of the money made outside the system is just freebies. Kind of like waitresses not having to ever declare their tips, and there is no enforcement policy. Taxing outside the system is "Voluntary." Yeah, right!!!
Friday we head to Tallinn, Estonia. Andrea and Martins are going to go with us, we think. After that, it's off to St. Petersburg and then again to Moscow.
We love our time here. People are bright and cheery and it's a wonderful mixture of old and new, old world and new hope. The tomorrows are uncertain but they have survived so much nothing like poverty or an unexpected return of winter seems to dampen their knowledge that things will get better and the short summer will arrive on its own timetable.
We hope that everything is well with all of you. We'll be home sooner than we are ready to be, but that will enable us to recharge the batteries and the coffers for another adventure.
I'll write as time allows.
Love to all,

Carol and Jim