The president of the Ottawa Estonian Society called me a little while back and asked if I would consider speaking at our annual celebration of Estonian Independence. He had read my articles in Eesti Elu/Estonian Life for the last few years and suggested I could perhaps talk about what made me write in the first place, and what my general impressions were of Estonia and Diaspora Estonians here in Canada.

I declined because I do not consider myself a public speaker. My working career was pretty well spent as a “back room” person and I have never felt comfortable speaking in front of a large group. Nevertheless, his comments caused me to sit back and think about my self-identity.

Several people here in the Ottawa community know me from my Southern Ontario days when I was active in Estonian events such as folk dancing, scouts and later an Estonian university fraternity. Like many of my generation I married a person of non-Estonian background and became estranged from the Diaspora Estonian community. My Estonian became rusty as I seldom spoke it with my parents anymore out of politeness to my spouse and children. I had lived in Ottawa for almost 20 years before I attended any events sponsored by the local Estonian society.

Quite frankly, my experience with many active community leaders in Hamilton was such that I felt I had little in common with them. Their expectations and outlooks were unrealistic and of little relevance to persons of my generation. That is not to say that there were not several good people in leadership roles. It just seemed that there were too many (although well-meaning) that struck me as being on the verge of being overly zealous trying to maintain language and customs as the last outpost of free Estonians in the great North American melting pot. Estonian Independence Day was a time to mourn the tragic events of World War II and its aftermath.

Now that I am older, I realize that some just could not accept the reality that the world they had left had disappeared forever and that in many cases their own former high economic and social status was much diminished. Also, with the years has come the realization that the Estonian temperament is much like that of an elephant; we simply don’t forget wrongs done to us. This is both a good and bad thing.

What brought about this change and made me decide to return to the fold? Not long ago a local long-time Ottawa community activist jokingly and good naturedly described me as being like a crayfish that had hidden under a rock for several years and then surprised everyone by making a sudden appearance from out of nowhere. There is quite a bit of truth to that and I suspect that there are quite a few such as me still out there hiding, mainly because of habit.

First trip to Estonia

Looking back, my first trip to Estonia in 1994 caused this to happen. Estonia had just recently regained its independence and travelling there no longer created a bit of a hassle with my employer,the federal government, which did not particularly like its servants travelling to the Soviet Union on their own volition. My son had just graduated from university and I thought my mother was still in good health. I felt it would be a good thing for my son and me to see my parents’ birthplace.

The trip was a revelation. All of a sudden, I had a large group of relatives on both sides. Estonia was an interesting place full of history. The relatives were likeable people. My Estonian, rusty as it was, came back - although not right away. What I saw with my own eyes of the crumble and neglect that was left over from the Soviet era truly angered me. The Russian army of occupation was still there and I still remember my feeling of intense dislike when I happened to see my first Soviet officer on the street. I could better understand why the older generation were so adamant in their hatred of Soviet communism.

To my generation, even growing up as children of immigrants that had arrived with almost nothing, it is inconceivable how living standards could plunge overnight from being slightly better than that of Finland to those of Stalinist Russia, a very long plunge indeed. As well, any sense of personal security disappeared overnight under a repressive regime which practiced mass terror as official policy and which was aptly described as the evil empire.

After the first trip I decided to go back to Estonia after a couple of years for another visit. In the interim I brought my cousin over to Canada for a visit. Things had improved substantially in the fatherland, but I still did not feel completely secure there, even though I knew what to expect. My mother died and I found myself in charge of correspondence with the relatives. At first, writing was somewhat difficult but the replies I got indicated that they had understood. I found myself corresponding most with a cousin on my father’s side, with whom I had a lot in common and had come here for a visit. She told me about the family reunion that was held every five years at the old farm homestead on the island of Saaremaa and I attended the next one. It was quite an experience to show up at a gathering with 140 relatives on my father’s side. I decided then that if I had “tervis ja elu” (health and life) that I would attend the next one, and so it happened.

Reflecting on identity

My last trip in summer 2005 was memorable, because my son decided of his own volition to come with me to the family reunion - even though he did not speak Estonian. Language did not prove to be a problem as you can get by with English almost everywhere. This was a particularly interesting trip because I subsequently was able to travel around completely on my own in Estonia with no fixed itinerary. It also caused me to reflect on my self-identity, something that is still going on. I recently confessed to my friendly editor that after the trip I was having problems sorting out whether I was fish (Estonian) or fowl (Canadian), something that I suspect is not uncommon among many of my generation.

Many things that happened during that trip are still vivid in my mind. One was the story told to me by a much older relative, of how her grandparents had taken their horse-cart to Latvia to retrieve the body of her uncle who had fallen during one of the last battles during Estonia’s War of Independence. They had recovered his body from a mass grave and it took much determination and several days during the hottest time of the year to get him back to be properly buried in Estonian soil. The second was the story of how she and her young daughter were forcibly deported to Siberia (as family of an executed enemy of soviet power). My relative said they were not physically abused or deprived of the necessities of life, but the most degrading thing that happened to them in her mind was that they were forced to go to the bathroom under the eyes of a young armed Russian soldier - they were simply no longer even accorded the dignity due to a human being.

What made me write for the paper? As with many things in life, this happened by chance. I had read an article in English written by the editor of Estonian Life to which I took exception - so I sent him an e-mail. Next thing I knew, I sent him what I thought was a funny article, having seen the film “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” which I wrote up with a Canadian-Estonian slant. Some people failed to see the humour in the article and advised me of this in no uncertain terms via postings to the internet edition of the paper.

After that, the paper published my impressions of the first trip to Estonia and the next thing I knew - with encouragement from the editor, - I started writing the odd article, particularly after I retired from the government.

The Aktus question

I still have not arrived at any conclusions about whether I am fish or fowl. What is it that makes me mush through Ottawa blizzards in February to attend Aktus? For the last decade or so it was one of only two occasions annually when I heard Estonian spoken. Perhaps it was a desire to maintain my mother tongue. Or was it just nostalgia for the good old days when my parents were alive? This slowly morphed into habit as I aged.

Anyway, Aktus time is just around the corner and I will be going again even though I have not completely sorted out in my mind why. The last few years here in Ottawa have seen a revival in attendance in that people seem to be younger (well, perhaps I just feel older). Several have arrived from the fatherland, usually as students, university professors. Some have come from the Toronto area or other places to work here. A few, like me, have emerged from hiding places to take a look around for whatever reason. It is interesting and heartening to note that recently in Alberta, a group consisting of descendants of pre-World War I Estonian émigrés has arisen Phoenix-like from the ashes of a community long thought to be extinct.

Not all is copasetic in the fatherland. Estonia is still grappling with its past under a president that was formerly the head of state under the communist system. The ancient enemy to the east has grown increasingly powerful as the price of oil and gas has skyrocketed during the last year. There are indications that Stalin’s spirit still haunts the corridors of power deep inside the bowels of the Kremlin.

Membership in the European Union is a mixed blessing with its constraints on Estonia’s sovereignty; however, the standard of living has improved dramatically, especially among the entrepreneurial class. All indicators are that Estonia’s remarkable economic progress will continue and living standards will soon reach those of its Nordic neighbours.

Anyway, these are some of my thoughts during this year’s Aktus season.

I have discovered that the internet version of this little paper is read literally all over the world. Wherever you are, I wish you a good Eesti Vabariigi Aastapäev.

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