Story
Story 40
An oak tree is divine to the Latvian people.
When farmers find an oak tree growing in the middle of their field they don't cut it down even if it might be bothering their harvesting in the future.
The Latvians respect an oak tree as a guardian of people and land.
"Hey, aren't you lonely standing there alone?" I asked an oak tree in the middle of the golden-colored field of wheat.
Instead of the oak tree all the wheat ears swayed in wind as if they were telling me "Can't you see us here? He is not alone at all!"
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Talsi)
Story 39
The summer solstice festival is the climax of the first part of a year in Latvia.
People make a bonfire in the middle of the venue and leap over it to remove bad luck.
When a couple leap over the bonfire their bond gets stronger by the mystic energy of the fire.
They sing, dance, drink, play, and they stay awake all night long to keep the bonfire which is a symbol of the sun.
It is said that if one falls asleep during the night, the person will be sleepy in whole summer.
It is a fun time, but at the same time it is a holy time.
They celebrate the longest day of the year, and convey their appreciation to deities of nature.
At daybreak, people go to a river, lake, or sea and release a small burning raft into the water.
The fire is the sun's symbol.
When people keep the fire all night long, that means that the sun is kept in darkness when evil spirits are active to drive them away, and the world will flourish again in the morning.
When I participated in the summer solstice festival for the first time, a big bonfire was moving as if it were alive in front of us.
A couple watched the fire when dawn was slowly coming, it was a dream-like sight to me.
I encouraged myself to stay awake as I saw the sky getting brighter little by little.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Ragana)
Story 38
When I came back to my room at night, a giraffe was looking up at a crescent moon outside the window.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Riga)
Story 37
One Saturday afternoon, I was at a cafe with my friend.
There was a birthday party held there by a big family at the opposite side of the cafe.
There was a guitarist hired for the party.
The guitarist got his style which was very fine, so everyone there including us enjoyed his music.
During his break, two bored little brothers from the party came to the guitarist, and started touching his guitar.
The guitarist let the kids do as they liked.
The little musicians randomly played the guitar for a moment.
I enjoyed their improvisation.
The melody they played seemed harmonized.
The guitarist was listening to the melody for some time, and then gently got his guitar back from the brothers.
He started playing again, and I shortly realized that his melody was following the one played by the kids.
Then I was glued to the moment when the guitarist smoothly turned the random melody into a very famous song: Change The World.
I might be too romantic, but it was a really touching moment.
To me, it was like the guitarist gave his message to the two boys saying "you can change the world like this."
This unexpected exchange of inspiration between three musicians happened at the corner of the cafe without being noticed well by most of the people there.
The tender spring sunlight in the early afternoon was pouring into the cafe, the people there were celebrating their happy day.
Then I talked to myself: Yes, we could change the world at the corner of the cafe on Saturday afternoon.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Riga)
Story 36
I was looking for a bottle of wine for my friends one day.
There were several wine stores, I chose a newly-opened one.
"Hello, welcome!"
A very friendly man greeted me.
"Hi, I'm looking for good and reasonable wine for my friends," I said as I looked around inside the shop.
"Okay. What kind of wine do you usually drink?" he asked.
"Well, I myself don't drink. So I want your advice," replying so I noticed an espresso machine at the corner of the shop.
"Oh, do you also sell coffee here?" I asked.
"Yes, do you want one?" he asked me gladly.
"Yes, cappuccino please," seeing him preparing a cup, I again looked around but more carefully this time.
There were many bottles of wine, but they were placed only on the two sides of the walls, and there was still a plenty of space left.
A big easel, a paint palette, and chair were put in the middle of the empty space.
And the most interestingly, there was a set of briefs displayed among a bunch of wine bottles.
"Here you go, my friend," smiling he gave me a cup of cappuccino.
"Thank you. What is the set of underwear there?" receiving the cup I asked him.
"Ah, they are the most expensive briefs in the world!" he told me with his eyes sparkling.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked him in surprise.
He picked one of the briefs and showed it to me.
"When I opened this shop, I wanted something special to celebrate it. I bought super high-grade cloth that luxury brands like Hermes and Tiffany use, then made these twelve unisex briefs. Well, now they are eleven, one was gone with a customer who bought wine yesterday," he smiled.
"Wow," I looked at the dark-blue brief.
There was some marks of purplish ink.
"I sprayed it to make every brief unique. The value of the underwear is priceless when the material is the best and design is one and only in the world," he put the brief back.
"So do you sell the briefs?" having good cappuccino I asked.
"I don't know what to do with them," he laughed.
"I made them to celebrate my opening this place. It's a wine shop, but I don't like to be a wine seller. I want to share joy and inspiration with people gathering here. These briefs should be used for sharing joy and inspiration, too," he continued.
The way he spoke was serious, but I felt his easygoing vibes in his words.
"Okay, shall we continue our wine hunt?" he joyfully smiled.
We found a nice bottle of wine, I paid for it and the cup of cappuccino.
"Thanks. This place is cozy. I should come by sometimes," I thanked him for his hospitality.
"No problem, my friend! Hey, take this. It's a gift for you!" saying so he gave me one of the briefs.
"Are you sure?" I was a bit confused.
"Yes, yes. I also gave one to a lady who bought wine here yesterday, so please take it," he smiled at me.
"Okay, then thanks! I will wear this underwear with an honor," I said.
Putting the bottle of wine and the most expensive brief in the world in my bag, I stepped into the mild afternoon light of early spring.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Riga)
Story 35
November 18 is the Independence Day of Latvia.
Many people gather at the Freedom Monument.
The history of Latvia could be interpreted as the history of indomitable fortitude under alien domination.
The Latvian people had never given up their identity.
Singing, dancing, playing, poetry and literature had been the spiritual bases of the Latvians in the difficult eras.
Today, everybody in Latvia can enjoy their freedom as an independent nation citizen.
When I participated in the Independence Day celebration at the Freedom Monument Square, I accidentally stepped on somebody's foot since there were so many people gathering there.
"Oops, I'm so sorry!" I immediately apologized.
It was a late teenage girl whose foot I stepped on.
She gave me a big friendly smile and said "It's okay! We're in a new era of peace & love!"
The younger generations have unlimited possibility to go beyond the old history of fights and grudges, and to create more harmonized peaceful world with their open free spirits.
"Yes, let's go to the new era and beyond," I said to myself and everyone celebrating their Independence Day in the evening in my mind.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Riga)
Story 34
"Do you know why there are flower shops open 24 hours in Latvia?"
The girl with remarkably beautiful eyes asked me.
We were visiting a small local museum.
"Because flowers need to be taken care of 24 hours?"
Seeing hydrangeas at the corner of an exhibition room I guessed.
"Well, not bad. What needs be taken care of is not flowers but a relationship."
She stood next to me and watched the hydrangeas together.
"What do you mean by that?"
I looked at her beautiful green eyes that made me allured.
"Let's say we are a couple, and you forgot to buy a gift for me on our anniversary. It's already 10 pm, all the fancy shops are already closed. What are you going to do?"
"I am going to go to a flower shop and buy gorgeous flowers for you."
I picked up one of the hydrangeas and passed it to her.
"Right. Our relationship has been saved," putting the hydrangea back to a vase she smiled.
"But, would you be satisfied with only flowers for our anniversary?" saying so I had almost misunderstood as if we were a real couple.
She looked at me reprovingly and said.
"Have you every seen people offering their gods a Louis Vuitton bag or Prada dress?"
"I don't think so," Being taken aback a bit I replied to her walking towards the next room.
"Flowers are always the best gift to our deities. If you really love me, never hesitate to give me flowers," looking back at me she said with a serious look.
After she went to the next room, I stood there for a while and looking at the hydrangeas.
Gentle autumn sunlight came into the room from the window.
I saw an after image of her fascinating eyes in the green leaves of the hydrangeas.
"Hey, did you mean it about the last thing you said?"
I trotted to the next room.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Gulbene)
I couldn't tell if she meant it or not,
Story 33
Who sat here before is not important.
Who is going to sit here is not important.
If this is a thing to sit on is not important either.
Then what is important here?
If there is love, is.
-an old chair maker-
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Riga)
Story 32
One made a joke that cats in Old Town of Riga knew how many flat stones were used for streets.
"Really?" I asked the person.
"Yes. Every single cat has its own street to count flat stones. Every Sunday night they hold a meeting and report how many stones they had counted. Then they add all the numbers of the flat stones they had counted to see how many flat stones in total are there in Old Town."
"How do they count the flat stones?" I asked the person again.
"They step on each flat stone to count"
"Wait, when they gather every Sunday, then the sum should be always the same unless a new stone-paved street is made, right? Why do they do that then?" I asked the person again.
"They never have had the same sum. They don't step on the flat stones covered with urine or vomit by drunks. When many got drunk in the week, the sum would go higher. When less people got drunk next week, the sum would be lower."
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Riga)
Story 31
She was probably the most famous street performer in Latvia.
I didn't know her name, her age, how long she had been dancing on the main street of Old Town, the city center of Riga.
Whenever I saw her she was dancing in eye-catching clothes to the music from her old music player no matter how hot or cold the outside was.
Her way of dancing in one word was; different.
Putting her hand up, she turned round and round with flapping steps.
Since I watched her dance for the first time, I had never been able to forget the surreal scene.
I had exchanged words with her during her break once.
It was a cold day.
She was sitting on her portable chair and warming herself.
"Hi, how are you?" I asked.
"It's cold," looking up my face she answered.
Our conversation ended.
When I came back to her place a couple of hours later, she was of course dancing there.
I greeted her when I passed there.
She was single-mindedly turning round and stepping restlessly, so she didn't see me smiling at her.
That made me happy for some reason.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Riga)