Once more over the Atlantic!

Stepping off the plane it was like stepping into a familiar skin: back in the Euro zone, the metric system, automatic conversion from Celsius to Fahrenheit. I sunk into the Europe-ness of our surroundings, but was snapped out of it with the gaffe of attempting the French double-cheek kiss. France this is not – we are in Latvia, home but in a foreign country, back after a two year absence.

Our friend met us at the airport with two car seats, and if not for the lost baggage we wouldn’t have fit. A stop at home base, and then we were back out, Lauris establishing an immediate friendship with Karlīna as if they were simply picking up from where they left off…

It’s as if someone has hit pause in the city – Jāņi is over, and I expected the gearing up for Dziesmu Svētki to be farther along. The momentum is there, maybe I am only viewing it as if underwater through the jetlag and time difference – after all there was a media crew awaiting our flight at the airport, to greet the famous 100 year old diriģents we were lucky enough to sit next to on our flight over the Atlantic.

Diriģents Roberts Zuika and the lovely kr. Sīka

The boys bravely stayed awake long enough for a foray to Rimi, to search for the necessities for the following day. Once again I slid into the old habits of grocery shopping in Europe; bagging my own groceries seemed as natural as if we had never left France. But then I stepped out on the street to hear Latvian! spoken by those passing by, to see the satisfaction of Lauris speaking a blue streak and being understood, and it hit me – we are here, in Latvia, with our two sons to experience Dziesmu Svētki!

Dziesma, ar ko tu sācies!