Tallinn, Estonia

June 02, 2022

Tallinn, Estonia Thursday, May 26, 2022

10:15pm Sunset

Uffda. We’re getting a bit pooped! Lots of ports, lots we want to report and remember, lots of emotional issues back home to which our hearts are pulled, and the time is passing…

As we have visited these Baltic countries that were once part of the Soviet bloc, we have heard pride in the voices of our guides that they have won their own independence. And yet, they live with the histories, some with the memories, but always with the buildings. Here in Estonia was the first time that I have seen the onion domes which I associate with Russia. It has been a hope that we could see those domes in St. Petersburg, but, of course, the war has redirected us. Somehow, in the past, I have romanticized those onion domes so that they are more about the architecture and the artistic flair than about Russia. Now, though, to see them on a Russian Orthodox Church in this joyful and free country…well, it seems a stain. I’m sorry, God, that I can’t seem to separate the stain from the holiness of your church. What’s it like for these who live here?

Sigh.

Okay, now with the tour. We had a 4.5-hour walking tour of the “upper town” and then a tour of the Kadriorg Palace. First the upper town—which is basically their old town. Walking often on uneven stones that are not cobble stones but large, rounded granite stones that had to be hoof-splitters and slippery for horses and that are tough now on shock absorbers…and to tennis shoes. Always in the old towns are seats of power—both religious and political, places to meet and mingle, places of beauty like fountains or statues, and usually there are levels with steps or hills with walls and some remaining gates. So it was unsurprising that we walked along the remaining wall, entered through the Green Gate, to the first small square of sorts which held the two major seats of power at opposite ends: the governor’s mansion and garden were at the average altitude for Estonia: 50m. Towers and fortresses were inhabited by many and various conquerors. Beginning in the 13^th century, the abbreviated order of those conquerors were Danes, Germans, Swedes, Russians. Until the 20^th century, Estonia was always under foreign rule. They gained independence for the first time for 21 years. Then came the two world wars and 50 more years of Russian rule. “We became independent in 1991,” our guide Anna stipulated, “but it took three more years for the Russians to leave.” Luckily, only about 10% of the old town was destroyed in the world wars; outside of the old town there was intense devastation.

The Green Gate and its tower were once a prison. You can see the shackles remaining on the outside of the wall. Prisoners were “displayed” on a platform so that any passersby could hurl whatever they wished at them. Inside the gate are other types of shackles and Jerry tried a set on.

Yes, power faced power in the square, more heavily balanced on the religious side with one government building facing two churches: the above mentioned Russian Orthodox church and a Lutheran church. Anna said that there are about 8 remaining Russian Orthodox churches and 20 Lutheran churches. “Of course,” she said, “the Russians banned religion.”

Walking along the old streets, we saw a large black 3-D plaque sticking out of a building with a man gesturing out toward us. Anna explained, “This is a theater school. Voldimar Panso is a beloved actor who always had something to explain while he gestured.”

Along the city wall and about 6 ft. above where the moat would have been was a half-circle shaft made of brick that ended abruptly. This is the castle toilet emptying into the moat. Huh.

And now to Kadriorg Palace and its lovely parklike garden which is over 300 years old. Peter 1 of Russia founded it and named it after his 2^nd wife. Peter 1 liked Italian architecture and built this as a showy summer palace. It is now an art museum. In the main concert hall—with a white grand piano-- are various symbols of power: the two headed eagle depicts Russia facing east and west. In the park is a statue of a doctor “who wrote the national epic.” Nope, don’t know.

When there was a pause as we walked on the tour of this Russian palace, I quietly asked Anna how it felt for her to be a tour guide in a leftover Russian palace, and how did her fellow Estonians feel—did they even visit? She gave me a measured look then replied, “I speak Russian well. But I don’t want to speak it now. At least for the moment. I don’t want to hate.” Then she moved on.

And so did we.