We landed in Riga in drizzly overcast this morning. There’s no one to meet me. They probably didn’t pay attention to my email
about the flight change. I couldn’t get hold
of my university contact, as it’s Sunday.
Lost an earring. Felt foolish hanging around the
airport. Weighed my options, then grabbed
a cab to hotel. Got into conversation
with the cabdriver, who’s Russian. He says
the majority of people speak Russian in the cities. I knew that Russians were a significant
proportion of the population of Latvia, mainly thanks to Stalin’s machinations but
I had also thought the Latvian government was actively suppressing the use of
Russian. Guess that’s not working as
well as the Latvians might like. If I
can get around in Russian, I’ll feel a bit more in control.
At least check-in at the hotel went as planned. Small place, snug, in heart of town. Room is nondescript, with the bare essentials. Don’t recall being so disorganized with
setting up before. I throw stuff out of
the suitcases on the bed, on the chairs, on the desk, without any sorting, paying
special attention to getting the suits and blouses hung before the wrinkles
harden. Gradually, I make a semblance of
order. The lack of drawers and of
sufficient hangers complicates things, also the lack of shelf space in the
bathroom.
Tried phone again with mixed success. Still unable to connect with my university
contact. I send panicky email to the
phone rental place, then try calling another number, that of my friend,
Slava. This time, I get a
connection. It’s a peculiar set-up: make
the call, get a “call refused” message, wait a few seconds and then get a ring
back and the person’s on the line. I
wonder: was the university switchboard closed because it’s Sunday? Good thing I have email as back-up. But this does not enhance confidence in this
phone I’ve rented.
But this day will end happily. Slava and Luda will come over and we'll got out to dinner. Tomorrow begins my schedule and presumably, contact will be established.
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