A visit to our Homeland
through the eyes of 12 American-Lithuanian women

Text & Photos:  Jenifer C. Dillis
Founder/Researcher at JCD Photography
Lives in East Bridgewater, Massachusetts
From Brockton, Massachusetts

Please join me and my eight biological sisters and three nieces, as we venture to The Homeland of our four grandparents. Having grown up as “purebred” Lithuanian-Americans, we 16 siblings are gifted to have parents who share their pride with us. (We sisters left our seven brothers back in The States, while we took our trip in June-July 2007).

Whether it was attending Lithuanian School to attempt to learn the beautiful language, dancing as members of folk dance groups, or learning to play the Kankles, we each have a level of that same pride in our heritage. Though some of us may own more “Lietuva” souvenirs than others, we all are strong, stubborn, determined, and addicted to Kugelis!

Our journey landed us in Vilnius, where the spirits of our ancestors met us warmly. How can I possibly describe the emotion of having landed in the capital of the country we had only ever heard, or dreamed about? We walked the cobblestone streets, window-shopped for Gintaras, and some of us even ventured down alleys. We felt nothing but safe and free in OUR homeland! From the powerful presence of the free-flying flags of Lietuva, to the steeple of St. Casimir’s Church, we were “home.” The locals were familiar faces. We had seen them in our own Lithuanian parish back home.

If being a Lithuanian-American or American-Lithuanian means anything to you, I suggest and recommend a visit to The Homeland. Go shove your feet into the sands of The Dunes, search for that one piece of amber along the rough shores. Pull up a chair at a local bar, and order a round of Svyturys for the crowd. Search the birth records of your ancestors. Touch the doorknob of the Church that your own grandmother may have touched. Look up while walking the cobblestones of Vilnius. Chances are there will be someone on a balcony. And that someone may be your own flesh and blood.

From faded wooden houses to the halls and courtyards of Vilnius University, the oldest university in Eastern Europe, we traveled as eager students for our guide.

We spent some time cringing as we walked the halls of the KGB “museum.” The most heart-breaking photos were those of the orphans. What shocked, and sickened me most, was the fact that up until August 1991, that building had been “in use.” I took many photos in there, but choose to not share such memories.

The Villagers of Zervynos preserve old traditions, and their own way of life. As we walked, we witnessed a gathering of the villagers. They were sadly heading toward the cemetery. What caught my eye was the woman carrying her purse!?! WHY would she need her purse in the cemetery, in the middle of the woods, in an isolated village?!? We spent a day there eating food prepared just for us. And we were entertained by our own private singers who had to endure the hottest of July afternoons while in full ethnic costume.  One particular singer was so smiley with her direct eye contact. We did not understand a single spoken word, and we all got along wonderfully!

We toured Trakai Castle and Old Kaunas for some window shopping down medieval streets. The Gintaras shops caught our attention everywhere we went! Not one of us left Lietuva without a new piece of jewelry. The flower-draped balconies clung to the colorless buildings, and the people seemed to be neither rushed nor bothered by 12 American women taking over their quiet streets.

Yet another happening which struck a chord with me, was witnessing The Flag Women of Kaunas! I spotted a Lithuanian flag hanging in a non-traveled backside of buildings. I took a picture of it from my hotel room because THAT alone was very encouraging, moving, emotional to know SOMEBODY hung that there where no one would really even SEE it. It seemed done more for PRIDE!  While walking that morning, we spotted The Flag Women actually going around with bundles of flags, and placing them up all over the buildings.

We asked our tour guide ahead of time, to help us find our grandparents’ places of birth. We DID find Zasliai, and felt the instant spirit of our departed grandmother. “The Church on The Lake” was still standing, as it had been in her stories to our Dad. We sisters stood on its huge steps, and touched its red bricks…for Dad.

We visited Church after Church, ate fabulous meals, drove kilometer after kilometer, and found ourselves thirsty for a beer!!! We discovered The Svyturys Brewery in Klaipeda, and indulged properly.

Neringa was our next destination. If I followed the story correctly, Neringa was a “giant” who carried sand in her apron to form the Curonian Spit to protect the Fisherman’s Village, etc from the waves of the crashing, rough waves of The Baltic Sea. There can be not the proper words written to express the sensations I felt just knowing I would soon be at The Baltic Sea. This was a dream trip come true! Who would be the first to find a washed-up piece of amber? The Curonian’s huge, blank sand dunes and forests make it a very unique and enchanting place to visit.

Somewhere in there, there MUST be at least one piece of amber…J

Off the beach, and up to The Dunes on the lagoon’s side of The Spit.

We visited Churches, shopped many more Gintaras shops, heard more stories of horror lived out by many Lithuanians, drank a few more glasses of Svyturys, cried a few more tears as we missed our loved ones back home, bonded as only sisters and nieces could, ate more delicious REAL Lithuanian foods, eventually figured out the conversion of Litas and American Dollars, had the rare opportunity to practice reciting The Lord’s Prayer IN LITHUANIAN during an impromptu Baptism invitation, visited MORE Churches, knocked on the workshop door of a local woodcarver, and arrived at The Hill of Crosses.

I remember the tears of sadness and ethnic pride in our Dad’s eyes, as we told him that we “Dillis Girls” left a cross on The Hill. Our Mother always used to admit being “a stubborn Lithuanian,” and no place proves the value and strength of stubbornness, more than the earlier days of The Hill. The courage of the Lithuanian rebels and pilgrims against the militia and KGB stood strong then.

May the future Lietuva hold for those, what it held for us 12 visitors: pride, hope, strength, determination, and a sense of bonding to see through struggles and obstacles.

If being a Lithuanian-American or American-Lithuanian means anything to you, I suggest and recommend a visit to The Homeland. Go shove your feet into the sands of The Dunes, search for that one piece of amber along the rough shores. Pull up a chair at a local bar, and order a round of Svyturys for the crowd. Search the birth records of your ancestors. Touch the doorknob of the Church that your own grandmother may have touched. Look up while walking the cobblestones of Vilnius. Chances are there will be someone on a balcony. And that someone may be your own flesh and blood.