“Born in Latvia and Lithuania, my parents spent five
years after the end of World War II in displaced-person camps in Germany before
they were allowed to emigrate to the United States. In the series “Displacement,”
I set out to retrace and re-imagine that history. My parents’ childhood homes
were structures appropriated from other civilian and military uses to house
thousands of postwar refugees. They had always described this housing as
temporary; I never expected to see these buildings myself. But after intensive
archival research, I was able to locate, visit, and photograph many of the
actual buildings on the sites of former DP camps in Germany. I have documented
47 former Baltic DP camps in Germany and am currently traveling the US and
Canada, interviewing former DP’s from these camps.” (Krista)
“Here is my mother’s little story about Christmas in
the Wentorf DP camp. The still life below reflect the central objects of her
story; the gnome pictured is the original that is described in this story.” (Lars)
(English version follows below)
Ziemas Svetku Vakars Wentorfas Nometne,
Dzintra Alverson
“Šo jauko notikumu esmu bieži stāstijusi
un aprakstījusi skolas domrakstu uzdevumos un vēlāk, saviem berniem. Bija Ziemsvētku Vakars Wentorfas DP nometnē. Mūsu ceļojāmā koka kaste un brūnais
grumbuļainais koferītis no Latvijas bija sapakoti pilni. Viss mūsu istabā bija sapakots un nokrāmēts,
lai agri no rīta mēs varētu doties ceļā uz Gronas nometni, no kuras mēs kāptu
kugī, ceļā uz Brazīliju. Mammiņa bija
pat nokristījusies par Baptisti, lai mēs dabūtu sponsorus Baptistu kolonijā. Te
pēkšņi pienāca ziņa no nometnes valdības ka viss otrais stāvs ir slēgts ar
karantīni, jo vienam zēnam esot masalas.
Nekāda iešana vai braukšana visiem otrā stāva iedzīvotājiem uz divām
nedēļām. Tā visa cerība braukt rīt prom zuda. Kuģis uz Brazīliju rīt aizbrauks
bez mums.
Mēs palikām istabā, bez Ziemsvētkiem,
dāvanām, svētku priekiem. Uz tukšā
galdiņa stāvēja stikla pudelīte, kurā
Mammiņa bija ielikusi egļu zariņu, lai mums būtu kaut kāda Ziemsvētku sajūta.
Zariņā dega viena svecīte. Mēs sēdējām
ap galdu un dziedājām Ziemsvētku dziesmiņas savā ģimenes korītī. Brālis Vilnis dziedāja basu, māsa Ilga ar
Mammiņu otro balsi un mēs abas ar māsu Aiju, pirmo balsi.
Te pēkšņi pie loga dzirdam kādu
balsi. Mammiņa piegāja pie loga. Lejā stāvēja svēša dāma un angļu valodā lūdza
lai Mammiņa nolaiž lejā groziņu ar kaut kādu virvi. Tā kā mēs bijām nupat pakojušies, Mammiņai bija groziņš
un virve pie rokas. Viņa nolaida
virvi. Kad viņa uzrāva groziņu augšā,
mums visiem palika mutes vaļā. Tur bija
četri lieli apelsīni, un maza kastīte, kurā bija mazs, trīs collu metāla
rūķītis kurš, kad viņu uzgriež ar metāla atslēdziņu aizmugurē, griežās apkārt
un tur savās rokās vēl mazāku rūķīti . Izrādijās ka viena angļu dāma no UNRAs
bija dzirdējusi ka otrā stāvā esot ģimene ar četriem bērniem, kuri sēž
karantīnē, bez Ziemassvētkiem, jo viņiem bijis paredzēts rīt braukt prom. Kas
viņa bija par Ziemsvētku enģelīti tai vakarā! Kas tas bija par prieku un
pārdzīvojumu mums visiem!!
Mēs lēnām un ar lielu baudu lobījām katrs
savu apelsīnu vaļā, kur beigās viņa izskatījās kā udensrozīte. Šo lobīšanas
veidu mums tikko bija iemācijis viens ļoti jauks un laipns kungs no nometnes,
jo apelsīni mums bēgļiem bija nesen atklāts jaunums. Viņš bija bijis muzikas
skolotājs Latvijā, un bieži arī nāca pamācīt mums dziesmiņas. Man liekās ka
viņu sauca Janis Lubinš. Ar viņu arī iemācījāmies dziedāt uz balsīm ”Tec
saulīte tecēdama”, “Saulīt vēlu vakarā” un “Trīcēj kalni skanēj meži”. Lietojot viņa iemācīto apelsīna lobīšanas
veidu, sēdējām ap galdu, lēni ēdām dārgo apelsīnu, pa gabaliņam vien, un katrs
gaidījām savu reizi uzvilkt mazo rūķīti, lai viņš mūs iepriecina ar savu
griešanos. Pēc tam manā dzīvē ir bijuši daudz Ziemas svētki, bet nevieni nekad
vairs neatstāja tik lielu iekšēju iespaidu un prieku kā šie.”
Christmas Eve in Wentorf DP
Camp, Dzintra Alverson
“I have
often narrated and described the following event in school assignments and
later to my children. It was Christmas Eve at Wentorf DP Camp. The steamer
trunk and the little brown suitcase we traveled with from Latvia were packed
full with our belongings. Everything in our room was packed away so we could
head out to Grohn Camp early in the morning, from where we would board a ship
to Brazil. Mommy had even allowed to be baptized in order to get sponsors in
the Baptist colony there. Suddenly a message came from the camp government that
the entire second floor was quarantined because a boy had contacted measles. There
was no travel for all upstairs residents for the next two weeks. All hope for leaving
in the morning was gone. The ship would embark for Brazil without us.
We
stayed in the room, without Christmas, presents, or any celebration. There was
a glass bottle on the empty table where Mommy had placed a sprig of a evergreen
tree to give us some Christmas feeling. A single candle burned on one of its
twigs. We sat around the table, singing Christmas carols in our family choir.
Brother Vilnis sang bass, sister Ilga with Mommy sang alto, and my sister Aija
and I sang soprano.
Suddenly
we heard someone calling at the window. Mommy walked to the window. Down below
stood a unfamiliar woman, who, speaking in English, asked us to lower a basket
with some rope. Having just completed our packing, Mommy had a basket and a
rope accessible. She lowered the rope. When she pulled up the basket, our
mouths were agape in astonishment. There were four large oranges, and a small
box containing a small, three-inch metal gnome who, when wound-up with a metal
key in the back, marched in a circle as he held an even smaller gnome in his
hands. It turned out that the English lady was from UNRA and had heard that
there was a family on the second floor with four children, in quarantine,
without Christmas, and stranded as they were supposed to leave the next morning.
What a Christmas angel she was that evening! What a joy and experience for all
of us !!
Slowly
and with great pleasure, we meticulously peeled the orange rinds back like
flower petals, making it look just like a waterlily. This skill had been taught
to us very recently by a very nice and kind gentleman in the camp, for the
delicacy of oranges was a recent discovery for us refugees. He was a music
teacher in Latvia and often came to teach us songs. I believe his name was
Janis Lubin. With him, we also learned to sing in harmony songs like "Tec saulīte tecēdama", "Saulīt vēlu vakarā" and "Trīcēj kalni skanēj meži". We sat around the table, slowly eating the
precious oranges, piece by piece, and each of us waited for his turn to play
with the little gnome, watching as he would delight us with his animated march.
Since then, there have been many Christmas holidays in my life, but none have
ever left such an inner impression and joy as this.”
Krista is still seeking Estonians, Latvians and
Lithuanians from the following DP camps, with the hopes of interviewing and photographing
them: Altenstadt, Braunschweig, Dillingen, Braunschweig, Detmold, Emden, Erlangen,
Eutin, Ingolstadt, Insula, Itzehhoe, Kleinkotz, Lauingen, Lubeck Riga, Lubeck
Waldersee, Memmingen, and Paderborn. Krista invites anyone interested in this
project to please contact her!
Krista Svalbonas, Newtown Square, PA, USA
krista51@me.com
You can also find Krista on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.
For a limited time you can purchase a painting by Krista, with all proceeds going
to funding her refugee/DP project; she has interviewees scheduled next year in
Seattle, Portland, LA, Grand Rapids, Chicago, Cleveland, Minneapolis, Winnipeg (Canada)
and Toronto (Canada)… Click here to go to the store!
Mīļš
paldies Krista and Lari, for sharing your project and your
family Christmas story! If you have the opportunity to see Krista’s art in
person, do it – she currently has work on exhibit at The Art & Design
Gallery at FIT in NYC as part of “Picturing Space: artists imagine architecture." Coming next year, a "Displacement" solo exhibition at Latvijas Fotogrāfijas Muzejs in Rīga, followed by a European tour of Kaunas, Vilnius and Germany!
Tomorrow,
on Day 21 of 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas, winter solstice budēļi with the Krišjāņa Barona Latvian School of Chicago and artist Lāsma!
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