I am sitting at Spot bar, in the heart of the Old Town in of the Capital City of Latvia, next to the Dome of Riga. The seat of Rigas suprinsingly young looking Archbishop. MTV and Icehockey is playing on 2 Flatsceens opposite to each other. I am completly alone, next to the Barman. Autotuned bloaded clubsongs from USA as backround noise, maybe not the right place to start to write an Essay about latvian and general baltic Mythologies influences. Also I don’t truly understand it that much yet. On the other hand it spreads it magic realism deep into my brain, my interest ist awoken. The words Laima, the Baltic Goddess of Fate, she also spans her wing around birth, marriage and finally death, and the word „Ragana", the latvian idea of a witch, are also present on the Shot list behind the counter, right next to „red headed slut“ and „blowjob“. The Font of the Sign of this bar is made up by simple Runes and reminds one a lot of the Signs of their gods, simple geometrical Structures. Even the national Booze Black Balsam is sorroundet with an atmosphere of awe and mysticism. In the beginning stored in wooden barrels and up to this day sold in ceramic bottles. It is a black strong bitter-sweet liquor made out of a variety of herbs and a scent of berries. Supposedly also connected to „Jägermeister“, which stole their recipe from Balsams, or the other way around. The ending of that story depends on the Narrator and his national pride. Or it just could be bullshit.
An older a little obese man standing in the middle of „Black Magic Cafe“. He slowly nips on a glass of white wine, wearing a well picked, well cleaned suit. Occasionally he visits other guests at their table. „This place has a very interesting history“, he mumbles while approching me. „This Place used to be an apothecary.“ The dozens of gracefully grown old wooden drawers all over the wall speak the same language. He seems pleased to tell a story. „ And in this bar the Riga Balsam was declared a medicine, Abraham Kunze invented this mixture and sold it as Kunze balsam “ „Oh medicine against what?“ , he begins to think . „ I guess against everything in its time. It was patented after it healed the russian Zar Katharina II„ „What was her illness?“ „ „She went sick in Riga“ „ Are you from here?“ „No i am from sweden, but i work here a lot as an architect“
Men and woman in a big train of ignited torches. One big voice reciting old songs called Dainas. Originally short 4-8 bar poems told down from generation to generation. Building the essence and secret philosophy for a society who needed to rely on them as their own voice, being under a foreign domination onwards from 1230 A.D. The Festival signs the end of the war and the declaration of latvia as its independence as nation since 24 years. Next to the singing fields near to the Daugova, a big River dividing the City and the connection to the baltic seas which made Riga an interesting spot for the „Hanse“ traders union, are glowing red as hot wax slowly searches its way through the grass, building a little lake that will harden over time. Grave lights make up an unstable field of lights. A lot of family and friends lay out Symbols with them. L+S, Riga, a triangle, a form of a swastica to opposing angles forming a cross. A lot of them are Symbols of their gods. I am Sitting at the Daugova near to a wooden Statue of a wooden man holding a baby on his arm. He rescued a little baby in the Daugova and gave it shelter over the night at his home. At the next Morning instead of the baby a big chest of gold was laying in his bed. With this money he founded Riga.
As i watch the reflections of candlelight on the pier of the river . A rather drunken man stumbles to the edge of river and speaks to me in latvian. „ Sorry no latvian“ „English?“ „Yes, but I am from Germany“ „Germany huh“. He raises his arm as if he wants to spread it over the whole Daugova. „This River is our soul. It’s latvian destiny!“ After that he starts to piss in the river.
Rigas habitants are surrounded and in tune with their Gods and therefore their part of their heritage, their signs are spread all over the city. People wear them as armrest or amulettes around their necks, little wooden versions of them are sold at every tourist place, at the markets and elsewhere. He old baltic Gods are common Names, are latvian Brands, for instance for chocolate. They are imbedded in their architecture and even on the the list of shots . After many talks i had with half drunken barflies, concerning the struggle of identity latvians, in their eyes, feel after their occupation by russia and the omnipresence of german symbols and influences for a couple of hundred years, still the me the link to the baltic Gods carved in stone and in the mind forms a poetic silent resistance and re-assurance of identity.. Laima is still knowingly and lovingly breathing her breath into the society and fueling the intelligence and the flow of the organic mass in this part of the world.