It's Kūčios!

"Kūčios," or Christmas Eve, is the day Lithuanians celebrate Christmas. I first wrote about the holiday here, but if you want to read more about our Christmas Eve traditions, then click on the "Kūčios" label.

Or read this charming reflection by Daiva Markelis, who—like me—is a first-generation Lithuanian raised in the Chicago area.

The Christmas Fish is made, and I am happy with this year's results.

Kryžių Kalnas

The " Kryžių Kalnas," or "Hill of Crosses" is a Lithuanian pilgrimage destination. Although the site had historical importance for several centuries, it evolved as a symbol of resistance to the Soviet occupation beginning in the 1940s.

Author Daiva Markelis explains, "During the Soviet occupation, inhabitants of the nearby town would erect crosses at night, only to have them taken down during the day by the KGB. For every cross destroyed during the day, two would appear at night."

Šiauliai, Lithuania, June 2010. The Kryžių Kalnas remains a significant destination for native and tourist Lithuanians alike.

Thanks to Daiva Markelis for making this photo available to me.

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Šiauliai, Lithuania, August 2011. My Toronto Cousin, on the right, and her daughter approach the Kryžių Kalnas.
 
Thanks to my Toronto Cousin for making this photo available to me.

A book that touches my heart.

I linked recently to Daiva Markelis's book, White Field, Black Sheep.

If you enjoy the entries here that linger on the experiences of the Lithuanian-American offspring of DP immigrants, then Daiva's book is a "must read."

I don't think you'll need a coat.

In The Long Road Home, Ben Shepherd details why the Baltic Displaced Persons valued education above most everything else. When I read that section, I also recalled an article, "Culture in Adversity," by Linas Saldukas published in Lituanus in 2006. I linked to Saldukas's article once before, but it's worth a close, second read.

Saldukas does a great job of explaining how the World War II DPs were different from other immigrants. He also clarifies how the distinct DP experience shaped the foundation of the refugees' cultural lives in America. Sometimes, the DP experience distorted American life.

The numbers of educated people who fled the Baltic countries at the end of World War II is astonishing. It's no wonder that our families taught us that an education was the most important form of wealth. The expression at home was, "moklsa nė nėšči ant nugaros," or (loosely) "an education isn't like something a beast of burden carries on its back."

Erlangen, Germany, Spring 1947. My Mom, on the far right, and her medical-school classmates return from lecture. Look how sharp all of these DPs looked!