by KR Slade

Village Chief’s house 

{Responding to two (2) E-mails, received on the same day of spring 2006.  One from a former classmate from my university graduate-school (Boston, Massachusetts), whom I’ve not seen in 35 years . . .  who probably has no idea where is or what is Lithuania . . .  The second from an old political protégé (Ottawa, Canada), from my days working with Canada’s Official Languages groups, whom I’ve not seen in 6 years . . . who probably has no idea where is or what is Lithuania . . . }

………………………………………………………….…………………………

Subject:  How did you get over there?

I joined our Alumni network and pulled up a list of graduates from the 70’s years.  Boy, was I surprised to see your email address and even more surprised to see your location.  What are you doing in Lithuania, there?

. . .

Take care.  It is good to know what Alumni are up-to these days !!

How did you get to way over there to Lithuania ??

Dianne

Rhode Island (USA)

……………………………………………………………………………………

Subject:  How did you make your journey to Lithuania?

Dear Ken,

It has been a very long time since we have communicated !  I found your coordinates on a Canadian government website.

Here in Canada, we . . .

I thought of you the other day.  I read that Lithuania has become a member of the European Union.  But I thought that European Union was for only countries in Europe.

. . .

So please tell me about your trip to Lithuania.

Yours truly,

John

Ontario (Canada)

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Dear Dianne and John,

I write to both of you because I received your e-mails on the same day . . . although you do not know each other, I think that you are both asking me the same question:  about ‘where is Lithuania’, and ‘how did I get here’.

John — what a nice surprise to hear form you !  I think that it must be some half-dozen years since we have last met, with our work for the government of Canada, in Ottawa, when we both preferred the French restaurants in Hull; eh?

Dianne — what a nice surprise to hear from you !  And after all these years — more than 35 !!!  Your town, there, in RI . . .  is 4-miles-south from where I was born and grew up; and 20-miles-north of where I lived and practiced law for 15 years, before I moved to Québec City, Canada.  Two-and-a-half years ago I came to Lithuania.  I be writer [J)], and I ‘re-teach’ English-language to some people who think that they can speak/write/teach English . . .

You both ask:   “how did I get all the way over to LT ?”  Well, I remember my trip, as if it were yesterday; it was quite the voyage . . .

There was the 11-hour plane ride, to cross the Atlantic Ocean.  But once on this ‘new’ side, because LT is so far from any ‘other place’ (there are still no direct flights to here, from anywhere !) — it took at least another 11 days (I stopped counting then), going to smaller and smaller cities . . .  then towns . . .   then villages.  But, of course, some of these smaller landing strips, in farmer’s fields, do not have daily, or even ‘regular’, airplane service; so, we had to wait a day-or-two between stopovers, to try to convince some small-plane pilot to fly in this direction.

Unfortunately, the stress of travel and deprivations caused some family problems.  The wife and kid had been constantly complaining for more than a week.  Nag, nag, nag; and cry, cry, cry.  Finally, I could not stand it any longer.  I went to the local market place to find some peace and alcohol.  There I met a very friendly and accommodating chap, who was knowledgeable in all kinds of affairs. 

A friendly local

I told him about my problem and he promised a quick and mutually profitable resolution.  A few days later when I woke up in his cousin’s marketplace vegetable wagon, my new friend told me that he had solved the problem.  We went to his other cousin’s barn.  I do admit that I was somewhat surprised at first.  The wife and kid had been bronzed.  At least this solution was more civilized than having to sell them to the headhunters.  It was such a good job technically, since they seem so life-like, that we were able to sell the statue-set to a distant tourist resort, at a tidy profit.  Apparently, this is common in these parts, where history precedes the Bronze Age.

When I landed at the final outpost of civilization, I needed to rest for a few days . . .  because of the changes in altitude, food, and water, and my total travel-fatigue.  The second night, in my room — in what they called ‘a hotel’, I could not read the very foreign-language sign on the window; so I opened it for the night, not knowing that this was a very dangerous thing to do.

The next morning I was very sick.  A doctor came, after a few days, and he said that I may have suffered an historical ‘ethnic-déjà-vu’ attack:  by a Livonian, or Prussios, or  Svedas, or  Rus invasion.   He did not know precisely which illness, so he gave me the Native’s Samagonas medicine for all-four afflictions.  I had a delirious ‘fever’ for many days (I never did learn actually how long), but then one day I woke up and I was completely well.  So, I continued my journey towards Lithuania. 

In the village, I managed to find a man from the perceived-extinct Curonian tribe, who could guide me across the Juozapines Mountains, through the Paksas Pass – which is especially difficult at that particular time of year.  The local Natives had said that he had reliably done this transit many times, and that he had two good, but rather old, elephants to make the journey.  I had never actually seen a real elephant before, and sitting up there on top was rather disturbing; but he knew that it would be a problem for me.  When I complained about the height of sitting up there so high, he laughed !  He told me that this was the SMALL elephant !  (It was a female.) 

While I was perched, there in the carriage-basket seat, becoming to my new situation, he brought the other elephant:  the male.  It was very scary:  sitting on top of an elephant, and then looking UP, at another elephant !  My guide loaded all of my baggage and equipment onto the male elephant.  We began what was to be our 18-hour journey over the mountains.  What was very providential was the fact that since this time of year was the elephant-mating season, it was appropriate to have the female go first, and not necessary to tie a cord to the other/trailing elephant . . .  and our pace was quick.

In the early morning hours, as we were descending the mountain into the Zauskaus Plateau below, there was a terrible accident.  Our (smaller) elephant had no problem negotiating a sharp turn on a particularly steep mountain slope.  But, the larger male, somewhat more blinded perhaps in his old age, slipped.  It was a horrible sight.  Worse for us, was the female thereupon galloping down the mountain … to find . . . and to be with . . .  her long-time mate . . .

I learned why, when riding an elephant in the mountains, that passengers are tied to the carriage (riding basket, called ‘a coalition’). . .  An excited elephant . . . is going to do . . . what an excited elephant wants to do . . .

Once at the bottom of the mountains, at the poor now-dead beast, we finally were able to manage to dismount.  It was good to be once-again on firm ground.  We unloaded our baggage from the dead male.  Although I could not understand the ancient language of my guide, it was obvious that the female was going to remain with her mate;  and therefore, it was evident that we were stranded.

The next day, a gypsy caravan passed by, and they accepted us, and all of my baggage, to travel across the Neringa Desert, towards Lithuania.  It was a very long, but more exceedingly calm journey.  They were nice people, but now I know why it is better to travel by elephant, rather than by camel.  Although the perceived interminably long journey through the desert, and then following the long River Will-Not, was uneventful, I came to the politically incorrect opinion that camels are disgusting.

Finally, we came to The Great River Ignominious.  There, I was able to obtain the services of a river guide who would take my baggage and me down the river to Lithuania.  It was a slow, but very peaceful and lovely trip.  The crocodiles were not really a problem, because they are actually very shy – if they are slapped with an oar, they will swim away.  But, on the second day, there was the terrible incident of our somewhat-careless raft-helper who fell into the waters.  Even before we could throw a rope to him, he was eaten by the swarms of little fishes that devour any living being that enters their watery world.  Perhaps you have heard something of this; yes, it is all true; even the movies cannot reflect a real representation of this horrendous event . . .

I finally arrived in the land of Lithuania, then made my way onward, first to Cowness Village, and then further to the capital-village, called Will-Not.  I soon settled into a somewhat normal life, relatively speaking.  I decided not to live in the capital-village mud-hut houses that surround the Parliament (preposterously called ‘The Same-Us’).  I soon found quite suitable lodging in a relatively more-improved dwelling in a mountainside, called Antakalnis, an ancient cave-carved habitat area that was formerly occupied by other writers.  From here, I have a very nice view of the tranquil capital-village below, and the presumed-tranquil Ignalina Volcano in the distant beyond.

The people of Lithuania are nice; well, all of the 3.5 million people – except for the Oligarchs Tribe, which has never been more than 5 percent of the population.  Lithuania is a peaceful country; well, all of Lithuanian – except for the on-going daily riots in ‘The Same-Us’, but that is only some fourteen-score of persons (and a few thousand of their so-well dispersed comrades), whom will perhaps soon be transferred to a more secure facility, close by, where their scandals will no longer have a monopoly on the news.  Crime is low, by north American standards; but, as everywhere, you never know . . . there could be a Mafiosi zany zilch bellicouseness across the street from ‘The Same-Us’, or a related rapacious apprentice/junior-Mafiosi-Wanna-Be on the other side of your wall . . .  But, all-in-all, I love the Lithuanians; although, I know that I am genealogically/ethnically prejudiced !

My only luxury is a satellite Internet antenna dish and an electric generator.  I’m so lucky that they both work; notably after they had fallen off the elephant, and thereafter also had descended into The Great River Ignominious, where with the help of the Natives, all of the equipment was salvaged, and was able to be repaired, after some months of work. 

So, I have e-mail !!!

Please write again soon,

And I hope that you will visit . . .

Bye for now,

K

Dinner at the Village Chief’s house