There is only birdsong now, birdsong and the memory of the musical chatter of the women. I’ve left Ratnieki now, and the dancing, and I’ve spent my last night in Latvia. When I planned this trip Latvia was a place on the way to Estonia. Now I carry it with me.

I am sitting on the terrace outside Jauncetas  writing this. I arrived late last night, after driving for two hours from the Biodanza Festival. I had only an apple for supper so I am looking forward to breakfast. I want to write here some instant things about the festival. I shared a room with Kristofers, who met me in Riga, and showed me around. On Saturday night we had a party and I left the early, at 2.15! At 3.00 am he came in noisily. and realising I might not be quite asleep, announced “It’s three o’clock in the morning!” with such joy I could not complain. It was the same joy I felt when I saw the storks nest for the first time. Kristophers is seventeen and it is wonderful that he has discovered Biodanza so young. It will enable him to keep that joy intact.

Joy, prieks, one of my four Latvian words.

I’m looking out across a lake here. Two water birds move in opposite directions. The lake is still. In the nearby birch trees, which are bigger than the birch trees at home, other birds chatter noisily. When I saw the stork I was utterly delighted. I wrote a poem which I read out at the party. It was my Talent. If you had a Talent you were invited to share it. Other Talents included a song in Russian making fun of Mao Tse Tung where we all sang a chorus in high voices holding our noses, and another where Ieva lay on her back and pretended to ride a bicycle, and then made us all join in. There was a fortune teller whose wishes came in the form of popcorn. We sang the Latvian National Song and I read a poem.

I keep hearing the cuckoo. Earlier when I was walking I saw two together, chattering the way they do. There are so many birds here. Here is my stork poem. It’s called ‘I don’t know where I am’

I don’t know where I am

The stork.

There.

Over there.

I stand still.

I gasp.

Very faint tears of joy rise up.

The nest is on a pole.

Two birds.

One stands, the other sits.

They preen.

They preside.

The field below is full of dandelions and fruit trees.

House martins flash about.

I edge along the avenue of lime trees towards them.

It’s on a pole, the nest.

Like a telegraph pole.

I don’t know where I am, but in this place

there is a pole twenty feet tall with a platform on top

and a huge nest

and two storks

and eggs.

There must be eggs.

 

He’s got black wings.

Black bands on each wing.

He flies away somewhere, leaving her sitting,

only her head and long beak showing.

An orange dog ambles through.

Two gardeners return from their patch

to the lump of the three story apartment building.

The sun goes in and I stroll back to the stables.

I’ve seen a stork!

 

Stārķis, my second Latvian word.

People start to appear here, other guests, those who will cook my breakfast. The girl brings out a menu. Another lovely Latvian smile.

Labrit. Hello. My third word.

I’ve come inside for my breakfast, waiting for further instructions. She brought me a menu, I imagine she will return. She does. I shyly order. I’m thinking about the swimming pool now, on the edge of the forest, a wild pool. There’s a pool, Maija had said. I didn’t go the first day, but it was hot on Sunday and when she said we are going swimming, I decided to join them. I collected my towel and rolled my swimming trunks inside. Maija chatted to her friend in Latvian and I tagged along. Other women were there and my suspicion that my trunks would not be needed was confirmed. It was a moment to leave behind my Englishness. I hid my trunks, undressed, and dived in. It was exhilarating. I was the only man among seven or eight women. As well as the simple joy of swimming I felt a mixture of fear and fascination, and could not help wondering if I had stumbled on Diana bathing with her attendants, and would soon be turned into a stag and hunted by my own hounds, like Actaeon. I survived, but my fear and fascination remain, feelings I will soon be ready to examine.

There is a young couple standing on the jetty that reaches into the lake. They are embracing. There was a car in the car park with ribbons on the handles. Perhaps it is theirs and they are on their honeymoon.

I have written all this without mentioning the dancing, the vivencias, the Biodanza, the Biodeja.  Biodeja Latvijā. Baltijas V Biodeja Festivāls. That is what I came for and I will return again and again. I won’t say much here about the Biodanza, except to say that deep learning and understanding has occurred within me. Seeds of hope have been sown that will take me back to England ready to teach Biodanza again, to share this wonderful wonderful thing. This story, the Biodanza story, will run and run until ‘the houses are all gone under the sea’.

My Latvia journey ends today, but never has an ending been more a beginning. My other word is paldies. Thank you.

Paldies. Paldies. Paldies.

And I do not know the word for good bye. And without that I am not leaving at all. I am taking everything with me in heart.