Viso Gero

Viso Gero! Farewell!

To be honest - our blog should now be called "Winter in Sheboygan." We are already back in wintry Wisconsin, living in our igloo:

Well, not really - the igloo belongs to someone down the street. Our house looks great, if almost buried!

Thanks to faithful neighbors for taking care of the snow which fell just the day before we arrived.

We never really finished the Vilnius story, so here is a last chapter. With reluctance - but what can you do?

One of our last days I managed to get to the Vilnius University library (tower above) and had a private tour of some of the old reading rooms, the tower, the observatory and its fabulous old brass instruments, and the collection of old books, some from the early sixteenth century. Many of the most valuable books had been taken away by the Russians and now, after repeated petitions, a small percentage has been returned.

On our last Saturday evening we went over to the nearby Philharmonic -

and enjoyed a tremendous concert by the national symphony: the "Oberon" overture by Weber, the Reinecke harp concerto, and the Brahms Symphony #4. And at intermission we joined the promenade in the lobby - counter-clockwise around the central stairwell - no exceptions! It was a nice evening.

We've enjoyed Wednesday evening fellowship and Bible study all through January and February. Here are about ten of us gathered at Krista's flat for a get-together. Always a pretty simple menu - tacos, spaghetti - but a wonderful chance to share and learn and pray together.

And Liz has enjoyed the Thursday morning women's Bible study as well - a really important connection for those who are able to attend.

On our last Sunday we were surprised with a farewell luncheon after worship at Nic and Edita's home -

And Steve presented us with a book of photographs taken high over Lithuania with small remote-control airplanes and cameras - a beautiful and unusual book, a reminder of what we've seen in our three months, and evidence of all that we haven't managed to see. Maybe next time!

We squeezed in some dinners with friends at places as diverse as Holy Mikos and Aux Champs Elysees, and dinner at Kelly and Jennifer's too - one of those gorgeous old flats with stucco moldings and what seem to be twenty-foot ceilings!

And then Bruce was there - our replacement. It was very nice to have the chance to meet!

We had lunch together, along with Steve, at Zemaiciai, just down the street - a restaurant as Lithuanian as its name - and Bruce plunged right into life in Vilnius by tackling a couple of those fabulous, notorious, cepelinai! He's a brave man - he'll do very well here!

Bruce's wife, Angela, had job responsibilities at home and will join him in two weeks.

Friends told us that our timing was not so good - that the weekend after we were leaving there was going to be an annual street festival, with booths and activities all through the old city. We saw some of the preparations in the Town Hall square -

But it was time to go! We moved out to the airport hotel for our last night so Bruce could move in. But we sneaked back into Old Town for one more dinner at one of our favorites, the German restaurant Bunte Gans - an excellent assorted fish platter for Liz and a hearty jaegerschnitzel for me, with spaetzle and red cabbage.

Our flights worked out very well: Vilnius - Helsinki - New York - Chicago. At O'Hare, John, one of Liz' mom's caregivers, met us with our car for the drive to Sheboygan.

We had wondered what would happen when we finally had to go through passport control, since we had actually stayed in Europe 92 days, 2 over the limit for tourists. The officer in Helsinki was very friendly, but gave us a short lecture on what the law says - that technically we were due a fine for our crime. But he let us go, just making a little scribble on our exit stamp.

And he assured us that we would not be on any "watch list" the next time we come to Europe!

There are many more things to say and pictures to show - more churches and bakeries and cute little winding streets.

But I'll just end with "Stebuklas" -

it's a pavement stone, lower right, just in front of the cathedral.

The translation is "miracle." You stand on the stone and turn a complete clockwise circle and - well, maybe a miracle. (Actually, I think I did a counter-clockwise circle - maybe that's why nothing happened.)

On August 23, 1989, a person stood on this stone and joined hands with another and another and another, and it became a line of people, hand in hand, stretching from Stebuklas in Vilnius all the way to Riga in Latvia and on to Tallinn in Estonia - two million people, almost 400 miles - standing together in a silent demand for independence and freedom.

Some miracles just take a little time. In this case, it was about two years later, August 21, 1991, that the last Soviet troops ended their occupation of Lithuanian government buildings - and Lenin's statue was pulled down in Lukiskes Square.

Thank you to the International Church of Vilnius for inviting us to spend three unforgettable months with them, and to the Lithuanian Lutheran Church for hosting the congregation and providing our "honeymoon attic" studio apartment.

We will always be grateful for our Winter in Vilnius!

A Blue Sky Tuesday

Good Morning! Labas rytas!

Drinking our morning coffee on our last Tuesday in Vilnius we saw blue sky and sunshine out our skylight - let's get outside quick and enjoy it!

We felt like this guy - glad to be out, glad to be alive!

We headed east toward the old Subacious gate - past our friends' apartment building with its impressive wrought iron -

and the view from the eastern overlook was like seeing the city for the first time - in sunshine at last!

We descended the 100 or so steps - blessedly ice-free - and walked along the small Vilna River -

to the large white Russian Orthodox Church on its banks - the Church of the Holy Mother of God. The church has an unusual look, with a dome something like the church roofs you see in Armenia and Georgia.

We understand that in the early 1800s Vilnius University used it for a library, classrooms, and even dissection rooms for anatomy classes. Part of it was also used as a soldiers barracks before efforts began in the 1860s to restore it as a church.

The churches of Vilnius have endured some rough treatment. (Our Lutheran church being used as a warehouse and basketball court, as an example.) Then again, most of Vilnius' synagogues have completely disappeared.

We had not been inside this church before, so we went in and were greeted by a woman who demonstrated how to wipe our feet on the floor mat before walking on her freshly-clean floor. We followed her instructions.

It's a very large church, with the tallest iconostasis we've seen in Vilnius.  We noticed that in a side chapel there was a coffin and flowers and a photo, and soon some people started arriving for a service - so we took our leave.

A few days ago we walked upriver to the St. Peter and Paul Church, a very special place - not so much for its exterior,

but for its brilliant white interior -

every inch of the inside is covered with white stucco saints and legends and frozen flowers and lace -a place where you could gaze and meditate for days.

I've never seen the Beatitudes on a church wall before. I'm guessing that on the left it says "blessed are those who mourn" and on the right "blessed are the poor." (But I didn't pack my Latin dictionary, so I'm not sure.)

On the left is St. Florian using a pitcher of water to douse a burning church. We often saw Florian's picture or statue on Austrian firehouses - the firefighters' patron saint. (Maybe I've even seen his picture on the firehouse in Kohler, Wisconsin - am I imagining things?)

And sailing through the middle of the nave is this Viking ship of brass and crystal.

When Liz was out walking some days ago she found an exhibit at a school and snapped some photos -

All made of papier-mache. We think the theme was something like (freely translating): Healthy Ways -  Healthy Body, Healthy Soul.

Something a Family and Consumer Science teacher would be interested in.

Nevertheless we ended our sunny morning walk at

our favorite Italian bakery - a plain brioche for Liz and a barge-sized chocolate brioche for me.

Along with some scrambled eggs at home, it was a scrumptious ending to our sunny walk. I don't know what it did for my "kune" but my "siele" was very happy.

Weavings

Hello Everyone! Laba diena!

Soon after we arrived, Liz was the first to discover the network of little streets nearby, in what was the ghetto neighborhood across the street from us.

On the left is the Embassy of Austria. And across Gaon Street (named for the great Jewish teacher who lived on this street) -

is the Stikliai Hotel, a five-star member of the Relais and Chateaux chain. (We look in the windows.)

The painting above the hotel's front door - glass blowers (stikliai). I'm guessing that the hotel once was a glass blowers' workshop, or that there were one or more shops on the street beside the hotel, which is also called Stikliai.

With the hotel on the right, and a nice bakery there on the left, you can walk down a few doors to Bistro 18, where, with friends Deb and Marty, we had a very nice meal a few days ago. At the end of the street stands the Church of the Holy Spirit, originally a Dominican monastery, now a mostly Polish congregation.

The same spot, just looking a different direction -

and on one of these little streets there's a weaving studio that Liz has been peeking into off and on for weeks and weeks, and the other day we finally stopped in.

We had seen strips of weaving like this at the national museum - sashes for the national costumes display.

We had to make some small purchases, of course.

The weaver told us that Maria - adorned with rosary beads - is her faithful companion in what is certainly a lonely occupation.

If we haven't mentioned it before, amber seems to be the number one souvenir here in the Baltics.

This shop window is one of dozens and dozens. Yesterday we visited two amber museums where we learned how amber becomes amber - basically it's fossil resin that fifty million years ago, more or less, flowed to the sea, where most of it is found.

Another item is the nesting dolls - matrioshkas - which are traditionally Russian and not Lithuanian. But you can spend hundreds of litas on some pretty fancy ones -

I bought a very plain one - just because I no longer have the one I remember from Moscow days.

And finally, if you're hungry -

these larger-than-life cepelinai (sausage-filled potato dumplings) should dampen the hunger pains!

I sveikata!