KAIRE UUSEN ⟩ A few reasons why people in Latvia and Lithuania might be happier than us

Kaire Uusen. Photo: Jaanus Lensment / Postimees

• It seems that we're looking for reasons in the wrong places.
• Latvia is Latvian-speaking and Lithuania is Lithuanian-speaking.
• Our southern neighbors know how to create a joyful environment.

When, recently, we heard the news that Lithuania's economy is in good shape and people there are more optimistic than us (despite the actions of the eastern neighbor), for some reason it didn't surprise me, columnist Kaire Uusen says, and lists a few factors that are different in Latvia and Lithuania and which might have a greater impact on the economy than previously thought.*

I just returned from a short vacation in Latvia and feel much happier again, because something was different there. I'd really like to know if Estonians, whom we see traveling around in Latvia, feel the same? A skeptic might say that prices have risen in Latvia too, and that Estonia is in many ways more orderly in a Nordic fashion, wealthier, and so on.

This is true, but I will say right away that this «different» has nothing to do with Estonia's government, success or prices. I remember feeling the same way in previous years, when I went to Latvia on several occasions, gadding about the country for shorter or longer periods of time, and also traveled in Lithuania. Even Vilnius, figuratively speaking, makes you dance on the street.

Is any research being done on what subconsciously saddens Estonians?

This time, I tried to put into words the unusual feeling of happiness that comes with a Latvia trip. In doing so, I discovered that, unfortunately, politically incorrect talk is also going to be part of it, for which I apologize in advance. Economists all know that in business, one plus one does not equal two, but there are many other factors on which the final result depends. All conditions can be ideal, statistics show beautiful numbers, politicians and scientists tell us nice things, but business does not go well and people are not happy.

Increasingly, it seems that the reasons why Estonians are not happy or the economy is languishing are being looked for in the wrong places. While the talk is only about prices and economic coping, a couple of reasons immediately jumped out at me in Latvia – I understood what might be bothering Estonians in Estonia.

But you don't understand it until you experience it.

The first discovery: although the Russian-speaking population is significantly larger in Latvia, during three days of driving around Latvian cities, we didn't hear Russian even once (!), there were no Russian signs anywhere, and everything was in Latvian. And it's very sad to say that, in some strange way, this made us feel good, without wanting to say anything negative about the Russian language or our own Russians.

Crossing the Latvian border into the town of Ape, it was as if the Russian-speaking world had suddenly disappeared. All signs only in Latvian, salesclerks and customers speaking Latvian, yet this small town is located on the Riga-Pskov highway, and the border with Russia continues to be open.

All conditions can be ideal, statistics show beautiful numbers, politicians and scientists tell us nice things, but business does not go well and people are not happy.

The same surprise continued while we enjoyed the wonderful center of Alūksne, the ruins of the Teutonic castle and the wonderful recreation areas – only Latvian everywhere, with some Estonian and a little German also heard here and there. In stores – food stores and consumer goods stores alike – only Latvians welcome you, there are no salesclerks who don't speak the local language. An added bonus: according to Estonian men, most Latvian women also have the looks of Agnes von Mönnikhusen **.

The same happened in Gulbene and Smiltene, as if suddenly you had entered a country that has nothing to do with Russia. Even at the carwash, it was somehow heartwarming to see instructions only in Latvian.

And again – why did it make us Estonians so happy? I would very much like to have comments from our psychologists.

A second reason to be happy: the rare ability of Latvians to create beauty and a joyful environment! The whole of Latvian-speaking Latvia is immersed in flowers, colors, joyful music, fun and laughter. While Latvian men look like handsome and athletic Scandinavian charmers, most Latvian women are smiling, talkative and active, which is not diminished by things like their house needing repairs or spots of rust on their car.

Everything that may be lacking economically in Latvia is compensated for with flowers, colors, and unusual but tasteful compositions. No old box, cartwheel or cart is left standing idly; instead, they are piled high with flowers. And that lifts the mood. The enjoyment of food and drink also catches the eye.

I remember a very slender Latvian woman, a corporate manager, who once told me in an interview that a Latvian childhood means a large pile of sweets and a wonderful summer vacation by the lake. You can feel that while traveling around Latvia. What a joy it was to see an elderly gentleman in front of an ice cream stall, eagerly scooping ice creams into his basket (as if digging a ditch or shoveling water), without checking the price or counting the number of ice creams.

The whole of Latvian-speaking Latvia is immersed in flowers, colors, joyful music, fun and laughter.

When we arrived at our picturesque accommodation near Alūksne, we were surprised again – only Latvian everywhere. The day of us Estonians also got off to a great start when a large group of Latvian women of different ages in floral dresses entered the wonderfully decorated breakfast hall, whose cheerful demeanor, Latvian chatter and laughter, with joyful Latvian music (the lyrics sounded Estonian, but in fact it was not) as a background to it all, also made the rest of the diners feel great.

Moreover, you could hear sounds of laughter and infectious joy coming from the kitchen – I cannot imagine hearing such sounds at eateries in Estonia. And the breakfast, even the simple foods, had been transformed into an artistic experience: the ham slices were arranged like fans, the cheeses and butter shaped like flowers, adorned with strawberries, tomatoes, and more. And then I remembered that I had also experienced such colorful breakfasts and «Latvian-ness» in Sigulda, Limbaži, Cēsis, and Valmiera, not to mention Kurzeme. Lithuania offers a similar experience, including Vilnius, which is entirely Lithuanian-speaking.

A third sad acknowledgement: it was nice to be back in Estonia, but we sensed that, already in the first couple of hours, we again had to speak to both acquaintances and country neighbors in Russian. We noticed that in our shops (in comparison with Latvia), even in smaller places, a lot of Russian is heard. It was a little surprising that in an old-fashioned stylish eatery next to the Tallinn-Tartu road, where there were quite a lot of patrons, no Estonian could be heard at all, and, at a Tallinn carwash, the text in Russian was much more visible. When we called the telephone company, and chose Estonian-language service, it was again clear that the person answering the call was not Estonian and very likely did not understand the language quite well.

Estonian-language education is a good idea, but it is still somehow sad that compared to Latvia and Lithuania, there is so little Estonian-language environment in Estonia in 2024.

And here's a message to Estonian businesses: believe it or not, but this reduces the desire (especially in Tallinn) to go shopping, to a restaurant, to a movie, to a health center, to hire workers, to attend events. For many years now, I feel like I am in a stranger's place. But it's not resentment, it's sadness. As an Estonian, it somehow feels much better to spend money in Latvia or Finland – and to feel happy that at least somewhere in the neighboring countries people can speak/hear their own language everywhere.

* One of the motivations for this article is also the recent interview of Postimees with Neeme Järvi, who mentioned that he felt more Estonian in Estonia during the Soviet era than he does now, when people in many professions don't speak Estonian.

** Female character from the popular Estonian movie The Last Relic (1969), played by Latvian actress Ingrīda Andriņa.