Emigration etc.

After months of negotiations and public relations campaigns' pros and
cons Lithuanian government gave green light for the establishment of
Guggenheim museum in the capital Vilnius. This will be a joint project
between Lithuania, the Guggenheim and the State Hermitage Museum in
Russia. The most prominent supporter and the locomotive of the project
the former mayor of the capital Arturas Zuokas hopes that the project
will put Lithuania on the cultural map of Europe and draw a different
kind of tourist crowd (which at the moment mainly consists of
stag-partying Brits and Irish, along with hordes of Poles paying
pilgrimage to Adam Mickiewicz).

While the project adds up to a total of 80 million euro, it is
believed that over 400,000 people would visit the museum and in the
next 7 years state and private coffers would start experiencing the
benefits of this gargantuan once-in-a-lifetime project.

Even before the government's blessing some steps have already been
done, although until last week it wasn't clear whether the government
would back up the project and chip in – at least partially. The main
threat for Guggenheim came from the institution that was previously
run by the projects keenest flagman and fomer mayor Zuokas. During his
term he introduced many initiatives in the Lithuanian capital and was
awarded The Outstanding Young Person of the World 2002 title by the
Junior Chamber International.

Yet despite the facelift the capital experienced during his term, he
couldn't avoid harsh critique for some of his ideas, an example of one
being the free public bike system borrowed from Copenhagen. Naïve
folly! The bikes disappeared from the cobbled streets of the Old Town
in less than a week.

The opponents of Guggenheim blame former mayor that the museum will
turn out to be another way of laundering money – an accusation Zuokas
has been facing from his first day in the office. Moreover, current
vice mayor of Vilnius has publicly accused Guggenheim with financial
intrigues and blamed it for colonizing third world countries. Along
came critique from a group of Lithuanian artists and architects
complaining that the government should give priority to the national
art and artists.

Guggenheim as an institution faces various critiques. A prominent
French art critic has dubbed it "a Coca Cola factory with branches
everywhere around the world", other museums point out that it has
metamorphosed into a franchise, while some of the exhibitions were
criticized for the subject matter, i.e. Georgio Armani dresses and BMW
motorcycles. Yet nothing of such a scale has ever happened in
Lithuania yet. It was the first time a number of renowned architects
were competing for the right to erect Guggenheim structure in Vilnius
– among them Daniel Libeskind and Massimiliano Fuksas. Eventually it
was awarded to Zaha Hadid's futuristic design.

It might have earned the name of a franchise for a reason, yet to
stubbornly oppose Guggenheim with wooden crosses, post communist
paraphernalia and local art celebrities would mean to deny the idea of
art as a way of bringing cultures together. Moreover, it would condemn
the country for decades or possibly centuries of terra incognita
status in the eyes of the world. In a recent survey in the UK
Lithuania was voted as the least known European destination.

When in the late 1990s Guggenheim was built in a poverty stricken
Bilbao in the Basque region of Northern Spain, some were suggesting to
use the money to build factories. Today many of the opponents have
become museum's keen supporters with more than a million visitors a
year. Moreover, the museum has contributed more than 1.75 billion euro
to Spain's GDP and helped to maintain 4,500 jobs a year.

Guggenheim might not be the only way to draw more people to Lithuania.
Pubs with smoked sausages, cheap beer and girls will obviously draw
more crowds than avant garde art or Litvak centre that should be
included in the new Guggenheim. I say should. Because after dozens of
disappointing decisions my country has made, I finally have hope in it
again. I don't think we'll be as prosperous as Ireland as soon as our
politicians hope to become, but if Dublin draws tourists for Guinness,
Vilnius could find its own way. And I keep my fingers crossed.

Written for "Metro Eireann"

Canadian immigration authorities announced that as of the 1st of March citizens of Lithuania no longer need a temporary resident visa to visit Canada. I discovered the news on the website of the largest daily in Lithuania. It was published in the section "Emigrants", as if to suggest that Canada might become the next target country for possible Lithuanian emigrants. On the other hand, Lithuania boasts the highest rate of emigration per capita in the European Union, so the suggestion could be farsighted. Although we are allowed roam the vast expanses of Canada for up to 180 days, if we intend to work or study there, visa restrictions still apply. Yet, as one jolly commentator observed, it shouldn't be too complicated to find a job in six months...

Myself and a few friends of mine have been looking forward for the decision. One of them, a keen traveller, suggested to worm our way discreetly to the States across the Canadian border. If Barack Obama becomes the next president of the USA, we might as well. Yet our anticipation was not caused by intentions to move the country again.

"All animals are equal but some are more equal than others", wrote George Orwell half a century ago. In a similar way I am tempted to say that all Europeans are equal, but some are more equal than others.

Until 2004 Canada and the European Union had a reciprocal visa-free status for visitors, yet before Lithuania along with other nine countries joined the EU, we had to drop down visa requirements for Canadians. In return Canada was expected to do likewise, yet it was hesitant, since their politicians were afraid of a possible influx of illegal workers or refugee claimants. The only two remaining EU countries, which citizens will still have to queue in front of Canadian embassies, are Romania and Bulgaria.

I have to confess, it feels good to be acknowledged as a member of the club rather than a potential threat. Let them keep the restrictions for entering the a labour market, but at least it will be easier to see the Niagara Falls or Montreal. Of course, a few of us, while sightseeing, could and will look for work opportunities. After all, Vancouver and Montreal are constantly voted in various polls as some of the best places to live in the world. Even if just for 180 days. I guess, in a way the Canadian government could have been right in procrastinating the decision. Yet when the EU labour market is within two or three hours of flight for 50 Euros, a massive influx of illegal Lithuanian immigrants could hardly become a reality. Therefore it would be great if more countries stopped demonising us as cheap illegal migrants. Consequently, maybe more of us could realise that flying to other destinations than Lithuania costs almost the same, yet instead those trips offer new experiences rather than nostalgia, in which we seem to be stuck too often.

Recently I came across the fact that Estonians are the only ones from the Baltic countries who can apply for working holiday visas in Australia and New Zealand. I am amazed how they manage to avoid the segregation that continues to haunt Lithuanians. Although they are further from the geographical European centre, which Lithuania was boasting to possess before Romania and Bulgaria joined the EU, all the Estonians I have met seem to be a zillion times more European than Lithuanians. No wonder they are welcome even to such remote corners of the world. Or perhaps, as I have always suspected, their politicians exceed Lithuanian - ours are too busy with unsuccessfully trying keep the people in the country or win them back from the construction sites in the UK, mushroom factories in Ireland and orange plantations in Spain. The more they try to cage us in between Lithuanian borders, the more we seem tempted to leave.

In the meantime, the antiemigration campaign in Lithuania continues. A few weeks ago elite troops of Lithuanian businessmen, joined by a group of barristers and journalists, met with a handful of Lithuanians studying in the United Kingdom and were encouraging them to consider returning to Lithuania. Although everybody agreed that Lithuanian companies can't offer as competitive salaries as London City firms, among other supposedly attractive factors one barrister mentioned the possibility to meet Lithuanian prime minister and celebrities in person, while this might not be as easy to achieve in the UK. I'd rather watch the Niagara Falls. Or wander the streets of Vancouver. Even if just for 180 days.


Written for "Metro Eireann"

This February Jameson Dublin International Film Festival gives a rare opportunityto watch a retrospective of avant-garde filmmmaker's Jonas Mekas' work. Although in his homeland Lithuania 85-year-old Mekas is better known as a poet and many still are unfamiliar with his experimental films, for some Lithuanians Mekas is what James Joyce or U2 are to the Irish - a reason to be proud and celebrate their identity.

Mekas is widely regarded as one of the leading figures of American avant-garde filmmaking or the “New American Cinema,” with the likes of John Lennon, Yoko Ono, Andy Warhol and Salvador Dali appearing in the innumerable hours of his film diaries reflecting on his life in New York, where he has been working for the past 60 years. As one of the filmmakers' fans has observed, before there was internet, "Reality TV" or YouTube, there were the films of Jonas Mekas. Quite a life for somebody who nearly became a baker in Chicago.

Mekas was born in a small village in Lithuania and in 1944 with his brother Adolfas he was taken by the Nazis and imprisoned in a forced labor camp in Nazi Germany. After the War, he studied philosophy at the University of Mainz and in 1949 with his brother he emigrated to the U.S. Initially they were heading to Chicago, where Mekas was supposed to become a baker, but two weeks after the arrival he borrowed the money to buy his first Bolex camera and began to film his life. Moreover, Mekas became a keen supporter of experimental cinema and also one of the founders of Anthology Film Archives in New York - one of the world's largest and most important repositories of avant-garde films. His efforts in promoting underground cinema have been recognized worldwide.

The filmmaker calls his films a celebration of life. Faces of celebrities merge with memories of Lithuania, episodes from trips to Europe are followed by conversations with his friends on philosophy in his New York loft. His handheld camera produces frames which are not knit together by a script, but by the act of filming. His frames flick, pause, suddenly are interrupted by Lithuanian folk singing, continue and flick again. Hours of film diaries turn into a spectacle of cinematic vision.
Dublin International Film Festival, in association with Solus - an independent film collective promoting Irish and international short and avant-garde films, will present five of Mekas' movies: As I Was Moving Ahead, Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty, The Brig, Notes on a Circus, Reminiscences of a Journey to Lithuania and A Letter from Greenpoint. The filmmaker himself will arrive to Dublin as well, so if you happen to stumble across the man with his signature hat and a video camera, you might be included in one of his films.

While The New York Times suggests that the length of some of his movies may call for coffee and blankets - one of them is nearly five hours long - Mekas claims that in fact all of his film work is one long film which is still continuing. “I don't really make films: I only keep filming. I am a filmer", he remarks.

Written for "Metro Eireann"

It is a gusty, damp evening in Dublin and I drop into one of the cafes belonging to a gargantuan chain owning thousands of cafes all over the world. They seem to be springing up in Dublin at the speed of light. Although everything mainstream and branded seems to be unwelcome nowadays, the place is packed and I find my spot besides an grey-haired man browsing through a holiday catalogue.

I'm sipping one of their special coffees, but it is neither special, nor great. Rather an adapted coffee flavored drink, mixed with vanilla syrup and topped with over steamed milk. I improve the cocktail with a pinch of nutmeg and a smidgen of chocolate. It is not cheap - I gave the girl a fiver without her even bothering to tell how much it was and got some change. I could get a meal for the price of this coffee in Lithuania. Yet probably not for long - prices have been soaring lately. As I was strolling the cobbled streets of Vilnius last September I remember dropping into a flawlessly spotless cafe owned by a Latvian coffee chain. I had an equivalent of over a euro in my purse, thinking I should be able to afford a coffee for that price in Lithuania. How innocently naive I was! The cheapest one was a Turkish coffee for about 2 Euro. In fact, I couldn't find a simple un cafe on the menu at all. Until then I had never paid for a coffee by credit card. Not to mention, I was waiting for the coffee and the bill for over ten minutes each.

But let's go back to Dublin. The service here is much quicker, yet just like in that cafe I find it hard to get my hands on a cup of good coffee. Not an Americano, not a double espresso and not a crème brûlée flavored pseudo coffee topped with whipped cream. If you ever had coffee in France or Italy you should understand me.

Why did I head to a cafe instead of a pub on this miserable evening? And who drinks coffee at this time of the day anyway, when the vast majority are sipping at their pints? True. Have you ever tried to find a cafe that is open till late in Dublin? No wonder the consumption of alcohol in this country is disturbingly high. It looks like socializing without booze has become mission impossible, apart from few exceptions. There is a tea house in Temple Bar, which to my knowledge was founded by a Croatian guy, and is the only spot in the city offering more than a teapot with a selection of tea bags - an extensive range of mixed herbal teas is available instead. And there is one cozy cafe that stays open till late, but the waitresses seem to be constantly struggling with their English.

Oh... and there is this mainstream chain I'm hiding in, buzzing with heart-to-heart talks, good music and the quality of coffee fading out into the background.

Opening a cafe might not sound like the most lucrative business, but I've never seen this place empty. Even though they charge nearly a fiver for a mug of coffee. On the other hand... it is quite a generous mug. Yet whenever I pass this place I tend to remember Krakow with numerous bohemian cafes, not acquired by global mega brands and with decent coffee. I admit having a few pints of Żywiec also. But sometimes one just needs a cup of good coffee.

Written for "Metro Eireann"

Here's my story published in "Metro Eireann" last Thursday

It is Christmas day and it feels like Dublin has turned into a deserted ghost town, yet St Andrew's Church, adjoining Pearse Station, is nearly full. Some of the people, quietly sitting in the pews, had to walk for over an hour in order to get here - there is no DART, Luas or bus service today. Everybody is well-dressed and they quietly whisper greetings to their neighbors. A congregation of about 250 Lithuanians are waiting for Father Egidijus Arnasius to start a Christmas mass in their native language.



Majority of them are in their thirties, many sit in couples, while now and again children climb the steps trying to approach two brightly lit Christmas trees standing behind the altar.

There is a choir of 10 people, among other songs performing "Silent Night". The pipe organ doesn't work and they are accompanied by acoustic guitar and percussion. Some of them had never sung before, others used to perform in a folklore ensemble "Lietuviskas Dobilas" ("Lithuanian Shamrock") which had participated in many Lithuanian events in Ireland, but recently many of the singers returned to Lithuania and the ensemble started to crumble.

Socializing and keeping the tradition

Jurgita Karazija is one of the members of the choir. She arrived to Ireland this summer and for her going to this mass is the best way of meeting her friends, since they live all over Dublin.

"The whole day is dedicated for socializing with Lithuanians. We stay in touch this way and it has become part of the weekly routine," says Mrs Karazija.

A woman, sitting next to me, is visiting her son who has been living in Ireland for 6 years. It is the first time she came to Ireland and it is the first time her son crossed the threshold of St Andrew's Church. His mother mentions that going to the mass during Christmas has always been a tradition in the family.



The crowd today is large - on an ordinary Sunday about a hundred people would gather. Despite the fact that Lithuanians boast to be quite religious, with about 80% of the 3.4 mln population claiming to be Catholic, majority tend to visit the church only on special occasions - Christmas, Easter or All Saints' Day.

"We are that kind of Catholics. The culture of faith has been destroyed by bulldozer-like atheism," remarks father Egidijus.

Lithuania was the only majority-Catholic Soviet republic and during the Soviet occupation the Church remained a stronghold of resistance against the regime. Some of the churches were turned into storehouses, Roman Catholic publications were prohibited and property confiscated, but the Church was safeguarding Lithuanian traditions and the language - the most archaic among the living Indo-European languages.

The only priest on the island



Father Egidijus had been in Ireland for almost three years and recently his mission was extended for another three. He is the only Lithuanian priest in Ireland which, according to census figures, has become home to over 20 000 Lithuanians, although some estimate the real figure to be about 100 000. Father Egidijus had been busy throughout December, conducting masses in Ashbourne, Galway, Longford, Carrickmacross, Moy and Armagh, where over 500 people showed up on Christmas Eve.

"During those three years I saw many faces. Some had disappeared, because people returned to Lithuania, but new ones turned up instead," observes the evolution of the local community Father Egidijus and acknowledges that many appear in St Andrew's Church on Sundays in order to have a chat with their fellow countrymen.

As a matter of fact, the easiest way to meet them is to stay after the mass for a cup of tea - there are always biscuits and a kettle in a room nestled beside the church. Sometimes people bring along homemade goods and some claim that this is the best part of the day.

As they chat, a hand-carved wooden Rupintojelis (The Pensive Christ) is quietly sitting on Father Egidijus' work desk in his apartment - a characteristic Lithuanian art form, depicting a worrying Christ with a crown of thorns sitting on a stump. It shares our worries and reminds that hard times of life would become better. In the meantime Father Egidijus rushes to put the kettle on.

All photos © Lina Zigelyte

When I saw Primal's suggestion to nominate my modest reflections on living in Ireland in the best "Blog by a Journalist" category for Irish Blog awards 2008 I was obviously flattered. Hell, yeah.

Of course, as Primal admits, you can have doubts on whether I could qualify. I have some doubts as well - I believe out there, in the Irish cyberspace, there must be more journalists with more articulate English and plenty of time to ponder about zillions of issues. Yet it is up to you to decide and come to a conclusion in a debate what criteria define you as a journalist in this era of blogging, Current TV, You Tube, etc. Do you have to belong to the mainstream or can you be a voice in the wilderness while remaining independent? If everything goes well and I have a bit of luck, as of September I might plunge myself into a more academic research on this subject. Or continue a life of a mongrel with occasional posts on this blog...

On the other hand, Primal mentions the fact that there are not many non Irish journalists working in Irish media.

Amelie Mouton in her story "Why no news isn't good news for Ireland's ethnic journalists" published in 2006 in the annual magazine of Metro Eireann - Ireland's multicaltural newspaper - points out that the National Action Plan Against Racism asks for "positive actions" towards the recruitment of journalists from cultural and ethnic minorities. Yet a well-known Irish journalists, who's name is not disclosed, observes in the story that "Irish journalism does seem to be drawn from the white middle classes nearly exclusively - unless you count Protestans and Scots, there are not ethnic minorities represented in my staff".

In a way it is understandable - a little more than 20 years ago Ireland was almost exclusively Irish. I remember and Irish woman once told me that when she went to London about 25 years ago she was startled by the variety of people over there - never before she had seen so many shades of skin and heard people speaking English in so many different ways.

For the past five years Irish society has been experiencing vast changes. About 10 percent of the population today are foreigners. It is widely seen in cafes, "Penny's", construction sites and supermarkets. But not as much in the media.

Of course, immigration issues are being covered. The usual ones: possible layoffs, abuse of immigrants as cheap labor force, accidents, caused by drunk Eastern European drivers, other criminal offenses, etc. Yet apart from these clichéd news there is so much more worth feature stories, photographs, broadcasts and documentaries.

Seamus Dooley of the National Union of Journalists in a story mentioned above said that the main barriers preventing the mainstream press from taking on ethnic journalists are language barriers and a possible lack of knowledge about Ireland's socio-political background on the migrants' behalf. I'll tick for the language, yet many migrants have experienced that socio-political background themselves, therefore the last argument could be disputed. On the other hand, why not give a chance for foreigners trained as journalists and with previous work experience to gain more knowledge of that kind while they carry in-depth research? Many of them speak more than one language and know plenty of personal stories. Besides, we all know that journalists are jacks of all trades, yet masters of none and they all learn as they go.

I'm no expert in immigration and I am not a typical immigrant myself. A virtual friend of mine in Lithuania expressed a wish for a blog that would describe emigration process from day zero in a foreign country. As she said, the first slap in the face and the first applause.

A blog of this kind would be immensely popular. There are still many myths associated with emigrants in my country: hearsay about pay, living conditions, Irish, etc. If blogged honestly (therefore probably anonymously), it would offer the best chance to satisfy virtual voyeurism. If blogged in proper English, it would be phenomenally popular in the British Isles. Either way stories we - virtual voyeurs - would like to hear would probably never reach that blog. If blogged honestly and in the native language, most likely it wouldn't come from some mushroom factory. Even if internet access was available, blogging still requires some sort of ability to write. As another virtual friend of mine has observed, ability to write quite often does not coincide with the capability to tell something and vice versa. In terms of blogging in English, although I am convinced there are more people capable of doing that than we encounter today (non-native speakers), again those things we would like to read - everyday immigrant stories - would probably never make it to such a blog, just because they wouldn't happen to somebody who emigrates with more than basic knowledge of English. It would become a boring blog - with no bad news.

At first my blog was an attempt to highlight some of the issues Eastern Europeans have to face in Ireland. I should probably write more about the likes of my friend who came over to Ireland in November. For the past three months she had been working in an Eastern European grocery shop for less than the minimum wage, doing about 60 hours a week and without a single pay slip. I could also mention that they sell spirits from behind the counter and whoever speaks Russian can ask for a pack of 200 cigarettes for half the regular retail price. But I'm sure these stories will get to be covered someday by those who thoroughly know Ireland's socio-political background.

On the other hand, as I say in my profile, getting stuck in the topic of migration is easy, therefore I try to cover other issues as well, resisting the temptation to become too serious, too issue-focused. I'm learning to respect the readers - the second keyword bringing readership to my Lithuanian blog is "boobies" (because of a story about a character played by a Lithuanian actress doing it in "The Tudors" , shall I say, in a very open way - my suspicion was no English actress would have signed up for it). Therefore you might encounter more juicy material in the near future on this blog as well.

Whichever was the reason, a few weeks before Christmas I received and email from the deputy editor of Metro Eireann deputy editor offering to write about Lithuanians in Ireland. She said she had found my blog and thought it was very interesting. It wasn't all in vain, I guess... :)

If you think this blog deserves the spot in the nominations for the Irish Blog Awards 2008, mention me in any of the categories you think I qualify for. Or otherwise, please come back. Thanks for stopping by.