The Jurmala House and My Latvian Goodbye

I left the US with the impression I would be staying in Riga for my two-week visit to Latvia. As expectations so often go, that was completely of the mark.

Instead, I’ve found my way to Jurmala, a beach town much like my current hometown of Virginia Beach. Long swath of sand, loads of beach houses (some quite large) and a town center with clubs and restaurants for the tourist season.

Jurmala attracted the most esteemed Soviets party during the days of occupation in Latvia. A classic seaside town with 30-minute proximity to Riga, Jurmala was well suited to take in the high-ranking officials of the party. This shows in the size of the homes and the quality of the promenade. Today, the primary beachgoers here are still Russian. Native Latvians have told me that they prefer to dash out to the far western shore for their resort vacation.

I settled into a cozy routine here. I wake up in the morning (several times because the birds are chirping and daylight is upon me at 0500. Bless it. It’s like a natural alarm clock and snooze button all built in. Indulgent.), take in a cup of coffee and some time for myself before setting off to work. The day goes on and I take a walk or ride the bike for some activity and then begin to make plans with my gracious hosts Ulla, Imanc and Linda.

As I prepare to head out of Latvia, I must pause here to truly say how wonderful they have been. I read once in an American etiquette book that a houseguest should stay no longer than three days with a host. Three days gives enough time to enjoy the company, doesn’t over-extend the host/hostess, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. A couple months back, when I asked Ulla if I could visit her in Latvia, the conversation went something like this.

“Ulla, can I come and visit you in Latvia?”
“Yes. Of Course.”
“Well, how long would it be alright to stay?”
“Oh, you know, two, three, four, five…weeks.”
“Seriously?”
“Well if you want to stay longer, I guess that’s okay.”

You get the picture. My expectations were shattered. Again. And so I’ve been given this amazing gift of hospitality from three very generous folks. In fact, I think it took two weeks for the whole house to click. Now I’m sad to go.

Perhaps last night provided the image of our performance: Linda, Ulla and I singing and playing music while Imanc, the production wizard, angled mics and monitors to capture the songs on his computer. Still jamming as the sky turned over from midnight black to the dark blue of the coming dawn.

I closed my eyes to the sound of a lullaby, backed by a chorus of morning songbirds. My Latvian Goodbye.