Riga, Latvia
Contrasts and contradictions indeed! Our astute historian had prepared us well. Our minds were opened to seek not the expected but the antithetical. The day was filled with opposites.
Even the weather had trouble making up its mind. As daylight fought its way through the clouds we found ourselves the center of the universe. Or so it seemed. Maybe it was more akin to sitting in the center of a circular theater upon whose screens different scenes played out and yet intergraded too. In the east a slit in the clouds promised a sunrise that never quite appeared. Adjacent to it the lights of Rîga twinkled upon the horizon and then there were all the acts that demonstrated every phase of cloudy skies to misting drizzle and heavy wet rain squalls. But we were detached, observers only. The winds of yesterday had abated and it was not until strong currents snatched at the bow of the ship and the local pilot entered our world that we awoke and brought our minds to the actions at hand. Red and green channel markers lined our route to the River Daugava. Remnant surf crashed upon the twin breakwaters guarding the river mouth as we slipped between into the flat and calm waters whose banks were lined with industrial action. Giant cranes manipulated buckets with gaping maws grasping unseen materials to be deposited in holds of waiting ships. Giant piles of woodchips awaited a similar fate. One wondered where they came from until neighboring neat lumber piles and mountains of uncut logs added up to say that Latvia was forested and being harvested. Shipping activities gave way to city suddenly.
Linden trees marched down city streets and sprawled in parks along a canal. Stylized peacocks with tails fanned up or feathers flowing down alternated with twining flowers with curvilinear stems. Both were set inside raised and straight edged blocks. Raptors with rings in their beaks and owls with floral eyes sat silently between odd shaped windows and beautiful faces peered from rooflines in a prosperous part of town. Rîga’s Art Nouveau district can keep one wondering what its symbols mean for hours, if not for decades. Spires and domes on churches, Catholic, Lutheran and Russian Orthodox rose majestically side-by-side. Germanic traders, the Hanseatic League left a legacy as strong as that of the Russian occupation and yet despite it all Latvians maintain their pride and savor their relatively recent independence. An expression of their exuberance was seen in their youthful dancers. One could not help but notice their classical ballet training showing through the beautiful folkloric dances. Reverberating from more than six thousand pipes, organ music filled St. Mary’s Cathedral as we snatched a moment for peace and reflection amidst our busy day. On the banks of the Daugava River the Central Market was far from calm, filled with busy shoppers. Five giant zeppelin hangars serve up traditional fare and luxury items daily.
Once back at the river our vessel beckoned for tomorrow is always another day with more lands to be explored.
