Christmas in Vienna; Epiphany in Vilnius

I seem to have started a new tradition of traveling to a new place for Christmas. Last year I spent Christmas with two friends in Portugal (sooooo much warmer than Vilnius!) and this year, a friend and I went to Vienna. Vienna is known for is abundance of Christmas markets, and though there was no snow, there was certainly the spirit of Christmas everywhere.

Our holiday, though it ended well, did not start out pleasantly. My friend arrived two days earlier than I, and had a horrible experience with the Airbnb we had booked. The owner of the flat had neglected to indicate that the building was under extensive construction, with dirt and debris everywhere, missing lights in the halls, scaffolding outside, and construction workers coming and going, with the noise that entails. My friend was also harassed by a construction worker, who cornered her in the dimly lit stairwell. When my friend told the owner, his response was: “Sorry for the inconvenience. Let me know if it happens again.” Really!?! So, my friend has to be accosted and threatened again for him to take it seriously? “Sorry for the inconvenience” seemed to be the owner’s default response to everything, including when there were no basic supplies in the flat. Sorry for the inconvenience. Go out and buy them yourself.

Needless to say we cancelled the rest of our stay in that flat and lodged a complaint against the owner. At first he refused to refund any of our money, but with the help of the great people at Airbnb, we were able to get back most of our money. This stress put a damper on our stay, but that’s not Vienna’s fault. In fact, the schnitzel and strudel made up for a lot of it.

Back in Vilnius, I was able to participate in the Epiphany procession on January 6 (also called Three Kings Day in some places). We walked from the Gates of Dawn to the Cathedral behind the Wise Men looking for the Christ Child to deliver his gifts.

It was a beautiful way to begin the New Year!



Doors in Tallinn

Better late than never. Last Easter I went up to Tallinn, Estonia. I love doors and windows (a lot of my pictures are of these and other architectural features), but I noticed the lovely colors and put together this collection, and a metal owl for good measure.

Then there was this gem…


Christmas and New Year Traditions

In our last class before the break I asked some of my Lithuanian English language students about traditions for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Here in Lithuania, Christmas Eve is the big day, when family gathers together for a traditional meal. I was told the meal should contain 12 dishes, most of which are very specific–including poppy milk (aguonu pienas) and some kind of herring. I was also told that the table will have a white tablecloth, under which are pieces of straw. At one point during the night, everyone takes a piece and the one who draws the longest piece is said to have long life. I asked what happens to the one who pulls the shortest straw, and was met with a lot of nervous laughter. (ie: Don’t pull the short straw!)

Another tradition that my students told me was that on Christmas Eve it is believed that animals talk and can tell the future; however, you don’t want to listen to them when the talk because something rather cryptic and unspecified will happen to you. So, on Christmas Eve in Lithuania, you don’t want to pull the short straw or listen to talking animals! (Below: The Vilnius Christmas tree, the Presidential Palace, a nativity scene in Cathedral Square–don’t listen to the animals if they talk to you!)

This year I spent Christmas in Portugal with a friend of mine, and in the city of Braga they have their own tradition for Christmas Eve. People gather in the public squares and drink Moscatel wine and eat bananas. Why? I have no idea. I had never had Moscatel before, and though I like sweet wine, this was like Manischewitz and cough syrup. But the twisted cobbled streets of Braga were like Times Square before the ball drop, and apparently other people really enjoyed their Moscatel because there were a lot of very merry people out on the streets. (Below: Braga Christmas tree, friends in front of the Braga sign, and scenes from Porto)

After Christmas, my friend and I returned to Madrid, Spain, where she lives. There, a New Year’s Eve tradition is to eat a grape for every stroke of the clock right before midnight. The grocery stores even sell 12 pre-packaged grapes so you are prepared. (Below: the Crystal Palace, the changing of the guards in front of the Royal Palace, the Almudena Cathedral, and me in Retiro Park, where I had to buy a pair of sunglasses because it was so bright!)

And now I am back in Lithuania in what has also become a New Year’s tradition–getting over a cold. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!



American Culture in Vilnius: Rent, the Musical

DSCF3222 On Saturday, some friends and I went to see a production of Rent, put on by the Lithuanian National Drama Theatre in Vilnius. According to the program, this is the first presentation of the musical in the country, and given Lithuania’s conservative culture, I was curious to see how a musical that includes openly homosexual relationships, blatant sexual content, AIDS, drug use, and urban poverty would go over. I applaud the theatre for choosing this play, and the actors for performing in it.

There were, however, several obstacles to overcome in viewing this production. At this point I issue the obligatory spoiler alert for both the Vilnius production (though it has now ended its 2 day run) and Jonathan Larson’s musical. Continue on at your own peril.

It goes without saying that as the cast was all Lithuanian, this is the whitest Rent I have ever seen. I actually laughed when Mimi sang about her home where the “Spanish babies cry,” as Mimi Marquez was played by a spindly blond with a thick Baltic accent. Several of the actors struggled with the English (Maureen was nearly incomprehensible while speaking, though her singing was clearer), the choreography better resembled a community college production than a professional company,  and the acting was overwrought and lacked subtlety, but these were not as glaring as some of the implications of changes to the production itself.

Some changes were cultural, I suspect. I wondered as I watched just how much a Lithuanian audience would understand the references to American urban culture at the end of the 1990s. Could they understand the ironic contrast between the open spaces of the idealized west versus the press of New York inner city squalor in “Santa Fe”? Did they have the background of how race, sexual orientation, poverty, and a corporate/capitalism-based pharmaceutical industry have impacted America’s LGBT and minority communities? I had to hope so. There were some inserted expositions of dialog, namely to actually describe what AIDS is. A friend of mine whose Lithuanian is better than my own pointed out that the Lithuanian subtitles that were displayed above the stage also spelled out the full name of MIT, and went to great lengths to differentiate each of the slang terms for drugs as they were named. I get these changes. It is a fine line between spelling everything out and offering small changes to help an unfamiliar audience better understand the context.

The musical began with a shortened rendition of the song “La Vie Boheme” in part, I think, to introduce each character by name, which was inserted as a kind of beauty pageant display where each character stepped forward as he or she was named. “La Vie Boheme” was reprised later in its original spot, which, while repetitious, was not onerous.

But other changes were less logical. Rather than end Act 1 with the defiant “La Vie Boheme,” the play inserted “Will I,” which should have been sung during the scene at the Life Support meeting. Ending the first act on such an uncertain and downcast song, first of all changed the emotional power going into the second act, but also unnecessarily disrupted the chronology. Deleted was the scene where Maureen and Joanne break-up (which happens in the middle of “La Vie Boheme”), so that when Joanne remarks on this at the start of Act 2, it did not make sense. Gone also was the entire riot that Maureen’s performance starts, which is celebrated at the end of “La Vie Boheme” and which precipitates Mark’s offer of a contract with Buzzline. Again, when this was mentioned later, we had to wonder ‘what riot’?

The most alarming change to the play, however, and the one with disturbing implications, is the ending. While Rent has as its source material La Boheme, which has a much bleaker ending with the consumptive Mimi dying, Rent resurrects her after a vision of the afterlife where the previously deceased Angel tells her to “Turn around, girlfriend, and listen to that boy’s [Roger’s] song.” But this did not happen in the Vilnius production. Shockingly, when a white clad Angel returned to the stage to escort Mimi away, they kept right on walking off the stage. And that was it. That was the end. There was no reprise of “No Day But Today,” where the surviving characters, which should include Mimi, sing about taking each moment as it comes and celebrating life and love in the here and now. Nope. Angel was literally the Angel of Death, and Mimi and Roger’s love ended after his heartfelt serenade, “Your Eyes.”


One of my friends suggested a small budget as the culprit, which would make sense if not for the fact that this production actually sang the same song twice, thus adding to the time and production rather than decreasing it.

Let’s look at the end of the play: the two characters who transgress conservative norms most severely–Angel, the cross-dressing gay man, and Mimi, the promiscuous stripper drug-addict–die. Rather than end triumphantly, as the original play text allows, we end with two of the three relationships broken by death, presumably due to their own lifestyle choices (ie: Angel died of complications of AIDS and Mimi from a return to drug use). Adding to my suspicion is the way the actors themselves portrayed the queer characters. With the exception of the actor who played Angel, who was a highlight in terms of acting and singing, the other actors who played gay characters seemed uncomfortable in their roles. While Angel and Collins did share two very passionate kisses on stage, and demonstrated a lot of physical contact and affection, the actor who played Collins was clearly reluctant and often passed off the tender moments with uncomfortable laughter or hesitation. The actors playing Maureen and Joanne were also less physical than other productions I have seen, though perhaps this was meant to play up the tension in their relationship. The overall effect, however, was that while the characters’ words said celebrate this love, the actors themselves undermined the message.

As this was my first foray into musical theatre here in Vilnius, I’ll have to withhold judgment that this was a sweeping commentary of one culture’s attitude toward complex societal issues. Maybe something was lost in translation this one time.



Market day

One of my favorite events in Vilnius is the Kaziuko Muge (St. Casimir’s Fair) which takes place in early March. I’ve always been attracted to shiny, colorful things, and this huge market, which extends from one end of Gedimino prospektus to the other and wraps around the Old Town, is full of them! There are traditional folk crafts, jewelry, scarves and hats (because, you know, it’s still 30 degrees out!) and food stalls with traditional Lithuanian foods.

There were even some live performances, like these student folk dancers (they pulled in by-standers to dance with them. Fortunately not me):


Medical experience

I visited the doctor for the first time since living overseas. I wasn’t quite sure how it would be, but the doctor was recommended by friends. He’s Australian, so his English was good (no jokes about Australians speaking English) and I felt comfortable with his expertise. My visit with him was professional, tidy, and very much like I have experienced back in the U.S.

He was concerned about my cough, and so he sent me over to the Centro Poliklinika, one of the medical clinics here, for a chest x-ray. My experience there, however, was not like any I’ve had in the U.S.

Since my doctor had called ahead, I did not have to wait to be seen. I handed the technician my appointment slip, he read it, and started speaking to me in Lithuanian. When I told him that I don’t understand Lithuanian very well, he went to his computer, typed something and showed me. In Google Translate he had written, “Take off your clothes.”

We were standing in the reception area of radiology. There were no other patients, but there were two other technicians. I made a gesture over my body: all my clothes or just the top?

He made circling motions over his chest, like he was rubbing himself down with oil or something. I got the picture. Another technician, a woman, added: “And bra.”

I had been warned by a friend that this kind of experience was usual, so I did as instructed. I’m not body shy, and I told myself this is their job, they do this all day. Besides, an 80 year-old woman had just finished up before I got there, so I told myself they had probably seen worse.

Once I was topless, the male tech ushered me into the x-ray room and rather mechanically positioned me chest-side against a large glass/plastic (very cold!) wall or plate. I held my arms out like a gingerbread man and then the tech went back to his little command station, mimed that I should take a deep breath, and he took the x-ray. He then re-positioned me like I was in the body-scanners at airports, with upraised arms, fully facing the glass window where he and the other techs could see me. Great. Again, he mimed breathing in, and he clicked the machine. That was it. He waved to my clothes. “Go home.”

I feel like I have been somehow initiated into a weird secret society.