18. novembris

Ninety three years ago on this day was the Proclamation of an independent Latvia. The previous day a People’s Council (Tautas padome) had been established, and elections were held to elect the first Latvian Provisional Government. On November 18^th, 1918 the first session of the new government was held in the National Theatre and independence was proclaimed.

Since that day in history, Latvia blossomed as a free country, was overrun by foreign armed forces during World War II, was illegally occupied for almost 50 years by the Soviet Union, declared the restoration of its de facto independence on August 21, 1991, and was admitted to NATO and the EU. I was born in the US during the years of occupation, and it is in my lifetime that Latvia regained its independence. Although my parents were also born in the United States, Latvian was my first language and is the language I speak with my husband and son.

The Freedom monument (Brīvības piemineklis) in Rīga, LV

The 18^th has always held significant meaning to me, but more so once I moved away from Chicago and the Latvian society there. When I was a child, the concerts, speeches and memorial services held  were hard to sit through, the solemnity of it all lost on a child. Then shortly before my tenth birthday I was away at camp, and the boy scouts acted out a campfire skit that will forever be etched in my memory; they were soldiers, and they were fighting for Latvia (of course rolling around in the dirt, dying and shooting their guns as loudly as possible, boys being boys). The following day (August 21st, 1991) we received the news from civilization that our Latvija had regained its independence, and over the years it has become harder and harder to remember the days of demonstrating against the illegal occupation, the letter-writing campaigns and all the wishes for a free country. Once I moved to Georgia (where the local group of Latvian Americans met about twice a year), the 18^th became one of the only days I could participate in Latvian society, and the significance of this day of remembrance increased greatly. As the 18^th remains a solemn day to acknowledge the past, celebrate the present, and express our hope for the future, my internal debates over what it means to be Latvian are silenced for a day, as I honor the nation and culture that has given me so much yet asked for so little in return.

Daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā, Latvija!

Lauris's first time in Latvia in December, 2010

A portrait of an 18 month old

The verdict? 87 cm, which is 2 ft 10 ¼ inches, and 12.3 kg, or 27.1 lbs. 97^th percentile for height, I can’t imagine where he gets that… Lauris’s 18 month check-up went smoothly, this brave little boy didn’t even cry after receiving his shot. Although he was scared to use the step-on scale and ended up being weighed on the baby scale.

LŪK on Veterans Day, 1.5 years and one day old

Our 18 month old is a mini-person now. He adamantly shakes his head yes or no in answer to our questions, and most often mimics our tone when saying the words jā and nē. His goodbyes remain an atā in a singsong falsetto, and mamma is probably his most often used word, because he uses it whenever he needs anything, which ranges from food to the toy he yet again has dropped behind the couch. LŪK is really into his cars now, he has on more than one occasion taken his dump truck and helicopter to sleep with him, and one of his favorite things to do is carry them from room to room and line them up on whatever shelf or available surface he can find.

We often stop to watch the construction site near Place de Jaude and the grocery store, he has become more interested in the equipment lately than before, when only the movement of people would hold his interest. Today we were only feet away from the concrete truck that filled a giant bin that the crane then hoisted high over our heads to the middle of the site. The cranes might be his favorite equipment; he spots them even from his car seat, and often times when neither his father nor I have noticed them.



Books retain his attention for longer and longer periods of time, he can “read” by himself for some time now before wanting someone to provide names to the things he points to (although he’s quite adept at pointing them out himself when asked). He’s developed the cutest sounds for some animals, which mostly sound nothing like the animal (imagine an elephant saying “woo”, but this is accompanied by a hand wave as if lifting an imaginary trunk) but have become instantly recognizable to his mother’s ears. His favorite books are the “lift the flap”, peek-a-boo and moving parts variety, but he spends more and more time with his “dictionaries,” books that have pictures of objects/animals grouped into subjects with labels next to them. I’m learning some new vocabulary along with him: did you know a jellyfish is called medūza in Latvian?

Our little vacuum cleaner is not turning out to be a picky eater so far. Sometimes he needs a little encouragement to try something new, but mostly he at least gives a bite before deciding he doesn’t want any. His meals consist of whatever the adults are eating, but similar to many children, anything that comes from his mother’s plate is more desirable than what’s on his.

With his father in Place de Jaude

The sleeping leaves a lot to be desired. As in a lot of sleep.

Lauris has mastered walking, climbing, clapping, pointing, picking up, opening and closing, and is even showing promise in using the potty, and we are currently practicing jumping, throwing and puzzle-putting. Although judging from the speed with which he completes his train puzzle and the plastic toy he beaned me in the head with yesterday, at least two out of three of those are moving along smoothly (and the third is probably more limited by his pregnant mother's ability at this point than Lauris's skills).

We’ve started talking to him a lot more about the soon-arriving baby, and usually have a willing audience since he’s captivated by anything belly-button. When asked where the baby is he’ll point out my belly, but is becoming increasingly frustrated by my disappearing lap. I think our little Ūsiņš will make a wonderful big brother.

Wishing my little monster a happy 1.5 years, and looking forward to the next six months…

Normandy, part trois

From Cherbourg we headed west on Monday morning, to the very northwest corner of the Contentin peninsula and Goury. With its tiny harbor and lighthouse, it painted a very pretty picture, and we spent an hour skipping stones, running back and forth with the waves and photographing the scene.

Just south of Goury is the Baie d’Écalgrain with its rocky beach backed by heathland. We almost didn’t pull into the parking lot, but luckily turned around and came back, and this turned out to be my favorite beach of the trip. A little more sheltered from the wind with far fewer people than the other beaches, we could feel the power behind each wave as it pulled at the rocks when rushing back to the sea.

Another little bit south and we reached Nez de Jobourg, a rocky and barren promontory (currently a bird sanctuary). The beautiful views in all directions also meant we were more exposed to the elements, and so after a short hike and picnic lunch we were back in the car headed south. A short detour to an overlook across Vauville Bay was our final stop before returning to the highway and settling in for a longer drive south.

Mont-St-Michel is many things in one; it is a rocky outcrop, it is an abbey, it is a salty grass marsh, it is a village, it is an UNESCO World Heritage Site, it is a pilgrimage destination and it is a very popular tourist spot! We timed our visit to be able to explore the village in daylight, watch the sunset over the bay from the steps of the church, then dine in one of the little restaurants before heading to our hotel in Pontorson (5 km south of Mont-St-Michel). This meant we were arriving as most people were leaving, as the last entry into the abbey is at 5pm this time of year, but we were content to tour the outer defenses, village and ramparts, viewing the abbey from all sides, and it was a relief not to have to battle the tides of people after the solitude we had experienced over the past days.

Tuesday we ate breakfast and then hit the road. The countryside in this area of France was gorgeous, and I finally found the fall color I had been searching for since September! Poplars, maples and sumacs were shedding their red and gold, yet the pastureland was still very green, with the occasional crop of blooming bright yellow rapeseed. Once inland we traded the sunlight for clouds and rain, but the warmth of the sunshine that had accompanied us on our entire journey through Normandy up until this point warmed us on the rest of the trip home.

Normandy, part deux

Our second day in Normandy was devoted to the sites of the American landings on D-Day, and our first stop was the American cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach. The cemetery, in memory of the 1st (5th Corps of the 1st Army) Division, holds 9,387 crosses and Stars of David, perfectly aligned. We first toured the museum, with its poignant yet personalized exhibits, culminating in a reflecting pool meeting the ocean at the horizon. When the Americans landed on that June 6th, they met a well-organized German defense that was aided by a strong coastal current sweeping landing craft off course. I was extremely moved by the exhibits in the museum, and found myself clutching Lauris’s hand that much tighter upon exiting into the cemetery.

We entered through the memorial which stands in the central alley, past the Walls of the Missing that list 1,557 names. A passing tour guide was overheard explaining the rosettes appearing next to some names; these were the bodies that were recovered and identified after the memorial was built. We passed through the colonnade into the center, with a large bronze statue, "Spirit of American Youth” looking out over another reflecting pool, the burial area and chapel.

Even Lauris seemed somber as we walked through rows upon rows of the white marble crosses. Being in the midst of such a visual reminder of the casualties and overlooking the dunes the soldiers had to surmount in the face of fire, I wonder how the landing ever succeeded; the bravery of those souls that rallied and took the beach that day had before been a thing of textbooks, but now I have the admiration and awe of this day in history to carry around with me forever.

We then stopped at the Monument du Débarquement farther west along Omaha Beach; it seemed that every five yards was another monument, another commemorative plaque. We found a bench farther along the beach to eat lunch before taking a walk along the beach.

The cliffs mark the end of Omaha Beach

Lauris slept as we continued west, and slept as we toured Pointe du Hoc. Another point heavily defended by the Germans, from this point the entire area of the American invasion would have been visible. On the morning of June 6th, the Texas fired 600 salvoes of 14-inch shells, and then the 2nd Battalion of Rangers scaled the cliffs at dawn, sustaining heavy losses, 60% of their men. However, the capture of this battery saved countless lives of the troops landing on Omaha Beach, who would have been particularly exposed. The enormous craters and battered blockhouses painted a vivid picture of the intensity of the shelling, and created a stark contrast with the rolling dunes and sea.

A former gun emplacement

It was after a stop at Utah Beach that Lauris woke up, and we hurried to finish the remainder of the drive to Cherbourg-Octeville, on the very tip of the Contentin Peninsula. It boasts the largest artificial harbor in the world of a surface area of about 5.8 square miles. The capture of Cherbourg on June 26^th and 27^th in 1944 marked a decisive point in the Battle of Normandy, allowing for the landing of equipment and supplies on a much larger scale than had been formerly possible. When the American 7^th Corps took Cherbourg, they found the harbor heavily mined, so it was only after the Royal Navy frogmen cleared the mines that the harbor could be rebuilt. The undersea pipeline PLUTO (Pipe Line Under The Ocean) from the Isle of Wight brought gasoline through Cherbourg to the Allies for the war effort starting August 12^th, 1944. We arrived a tad too late to tour the Cité de la Mer museum that houses Le Redoutable, the first French nuclear submarine, but enjoyed a stroll around the quay and through downtown before turning in for the night.

Happy Veteran's Day, and God bless all the men and women serving our country!

Normandy, part une

With the four day weekend thanks to All Saints' Day / Toussaint, we packed up and left for Normandy on Friday evening. Knowing how hard (impossible!) it would be to drive the whole seven hours in one stretch, we stayed the first night in a hotel in Le Mans, host to the famous 24 Hours of Le Mans sports car race since 1923. Note to self; even when booking hotels last minute and looking for a deal, avoid any hotel under 40 euros/night... The next morning after a quick breakfast we were on our way to Caen. A beautiful city, however our exploring was restricted to the Château due to time constraints. Under sunny skies we picnicked up on the hill in the shade of chestnuts and with a view of the citadel. It was difficult to imagine the city we were viewing as the same that was under siege for two months during WWII. (June 6th, 1944 there was a heavy bombing raid after which fires burned for 11 days. Once the Canadians liberated the town on July 9th, the Germans retreated only to begin shelling the town, which lasted another month.) From our perch up on the hill we had a beautiful view of St. Pierre, and a more distant one of St.-Étienne Church, where during the battle more than 1,500 refugees camped out. We explored the ramparts, soaked in the views, and headed north to Pegasus Bridge.

St.-Georges chapel, Château

The site of the two bridges captured soon after midnight during the night of June 5^th-6^th, 1944 by the British 5^th Parachute Brigade was one of the first objectives of the Allied Landings in Normandy. Another unassuming little town, steeped in wartime history. We continued north to the ocean and Sword Beach, Juno Beach and Gold Beach, the landing zones of the British and Canadian troops on D-Day. Arromanches-les-Bains is on the west end of these beaches, and in the little port are the remains of the allied artificial “Mulberry” port. On the east end, high above the town on the dunes is a good eagle-eye view of the port, the harbor, the beaches to the east and the cliffs to the west.

Gold Beach and part of the Arromanches Mulberry harbor

Once down by the ocean visitors must wait until low tide, and then it is possible to walk out onto the beach among the remains of this giant floating harbor. The breakwaters (concrete-filled caissons sunk in the seabed) are also visible, farther out into the ocean, and although some of the concrete pillars still remain, the pier-heads and floating piers (made of metal and on floats) are no longer in the water, so a little imagination must be used to imagine how the port must have looked. The harbor was the landing point for the British Mulberry B troops, and after securing the harbor 146 Phoenix caissons were laid (about 500,000 tons of concrete). These, as well as 33 jetties and 10 miles of floating roads (all prepared before the invasion) had been towed across the Channel at about 4 mph, enabling 9,000 tons of material to be landed each day to support the invasion. (Here I will add that the reasoning behind building these ports was that during the initial invasion/fighting, existing ports would be rendered unusable, and beaches would not allow the landing of the tonnages of materials needed to support the troops in the war effort. These harbors were engineering marvels that were instrumental in the success of the Allied effort.) *All figures and facts courtesy of the Michelin Guide and Wikipedia.com

Low tide in Arromanches harbor, with sections of the breakwaters and some caissons visible