Wednesday, September 19, 2012

2012_09_16 Tallinn, Estonia

My next couch hostess Mare ('sea') and I had a hard time finding each other at the bus station in Tallinn. Her profile picture shows a blonde with a big grin, yet here was a worried-looking brunnette. We circled each other tentatively: 'Alexa?' 'Mare?' and then boarded a tram to her neighborhood by the harbor. Big cruise ships from Scandinavia! (Some Swedes make the trip to have their hair done cheaply!) As a 'pensioner' my fare was free. Mare cooked a lunch of orange mushrooms and potatoes in her beautifully remodeled flat in an old building. I met her daughter, a film student, who lent me an English book to read, Solar by Ewan McGregor, a comic look at the energy crisis. Then we walked through the old town as Mare returned to work - ramparts, towers, medieval lanes, churches and cafes in picturesque squares. I visited a photo museum in the old jail and loaded up with supplies from a supermarket, only getting slightly lost going 'home'.

Mare was married to a Bulgarian and does Bulgarian/Estonian translations besides her day job with the choral society. Estonia has a big national song festival every four years. She told me about a Bulgarian man who was dropped off in Estonia. He thought he was headed for Sweden or Switzerland for work, but he was certain he was still in Bulgaria, being illiterate. Mare sorted all this out for the police. Her son was soon returning from the States where he had a terrible job for an outfit called Southwest, trying to sell books door to door. I had the same miserable experience briefly with encyclopedias.

Mare gave up her pretty bedroom and slept in the kitchen. I was gatekeeper for the cat who used the bedroom window to go in and out. We went to an intimate medieval concert in an old tower with songs by Purcell and original instruments, Hornus Musicus (Garden of Music). Later we had mulled wine in a cafe frequented by Couchsurfers. Rain ruined a planned excursion to the country but then the weather cleared and we found an open house event for the opening of the ballet/opera/orchestra season with free performances of all three. At the end we all joined hands for a satellite photo of the event, circling the national theatre. Then we boarded a tram to the outskirts to see Tsarina Katherine's palace and gardens (closed for renovations), her husband Peter the Great's humble cottage, and the massive site of the national song celebration near the sea. Warm delicious soup, then back home for tea and sweets to meet my next couch, a Russian woman, Svetlana, her boyfriend Alex, and at her modern flat outside the city, her son Andre, who attends a Russian school and doesn't speak Estonian.

Mare had told me the Soviets had broken up families, sending Estonians to Siberia, men separated from their wives and children, many never to return. Estonia was a free nation until the Second World War, when part of the old city was bombed by the Russians, though they denied it. Russian is widely spoken and many were imported to this country with a higher standard of living. In the Middle Ages the blackhead guilds prospered and eventually became part of the Hanseatic League, never having a king. Germany was a favored partner until the war. But you can hardly blame present day Russian speakers for the crimes of their parents or grandparents.

At Svetlana's, on the outskirts, I learned to take the bus to the tram into the city and bought a three-day Tallinn card for forty euros but only by using the costly hop-on-hop-off doubledecker red buses could I justify the expense. The Kumu Art Museum near Katherine's closed palace took a day to see. Very haunting was a room full of sculpted heads, including Lenin's, with a recording of chatter as if all those heads were endlessly arguing. And I was spellbound by a seventy-minute video of a large black and white drawing of an old mansion on a river that slowly transformed with the odd leaf falling, bird flying, boat passing into a forested ruin and back again to a crumbling mansion.


I visited the museum of the occupation (WWII until l99l) where rows of old suitcases and documentary films told the sad story. I explored a medieval tower, the Tallinn and Estonian history museums and an outdoor museum of thatched farmhouses, churches and schools from all over the country. The place to eat was Lido, a cafeteria of Estonian dishes. I could sit in the lobby of the biggest hotel and catch up on my Kindle Fire. I doggedly got my free coffee, marzipan bar and reduced unfiltered beer to get the last value from my Tallinn card.

My last day in the city I caught a cold and Svetlana gave me ginger tea and let me sleep. She had uploaded hundreds of photos (will you ever see them?) onto Picasa web, generous with her time for such a busy working mother. She left me at Mare's office the day I took the bus to Riga so I could look around one last time unencumbered by my luggage. But I left my camera behind, and Mare kindly sent it on to me.

No comments:

Post a Comment