Vilnius: Gin Drinks and Monasteries

I salvaged my jet lag-plagued first day in Vilnius with a drink in a bar with some of the best old world atmosphere I'd experienced in a long time – stone walls, exposed beams, Ella Fitzgerald on the speakers, and 20s-era barkeep outfits. It smelled of rich mahogany, much like Ron Burgundy's apartment. The waiters were also uncharacteristically talkative and made me a delicious gin-based drink called a Siri and then joked about my drink's cognate - the iphone assistant who will one day gain consciousness and take over the world. 

The bar was only large enough for five small tables but on a Saturday night it still wasn’t full. With drinks at 8 or 9 euro each it’s not a surprise since the average wage in Vilnius is only €665 per month. Most drinks in the city are less expensive than these but still expensive to Vilnians (the actual demonym for people from Vilnius, according to Wikipedia). Things in Vilnius are disproportionately expensive compared to how much people make. For example I met someone who DJed part-time to supplement his salary as a...wait for it...doctor. As a result many young Lithuanians have been leaving the country to live in richer European countries now that they don't need visas to live in other EU countries after Lithuania's 2008 entrance into the union.

This flight of young Lithuanians is a shame as Lithuania is a beautiful country that has played an outsized role in history, given its relatively small size (more on this in later posts). In my experience Lithuanians are a people of genuine warmth also. They don’t smile nearly as much as the average American but when they do, it seems a lot more earnest. From what I've seen Lithuanians are actually very helpful and kind people, after you break the initial icy exterior. Two interactions I’ve had with Lithuanians that come to mind to demonstrate this are below:

The first happened at a concert at a monastery on a peninsula (see pictures below - first is mine, second from @afotoeu). When the concert ended I went up to one of the ushers and asked her if there were any phones in the monastery I could use to call a cab back to the city. She didn’t know of any but offered to call and when I tried to explain the situation she said I could call myself using her phone if it would be easier. She even trusted me enough to walk away at one point to take care of something. When she came back I told her it had gone successfully. We talked about where I was from and when she found out I was American she gave me a look that said, 'this poor American must be super lost.' In our short conversation I told her in all sincerity that I loved the concert and her country. When I had to go wait for the cab I thanked her for her help and instead of telling me, "you're welcome," she thanked me for letting her help me.

The second instance happened in the airport in Vilnius. I went up to a kiosk and was scouring the offerings for something that looked dairy free. The kiosk guy came over and I explained my dietary issue to him and he helped me search through just about every item they had. He even read the ingredients on the backs of the prepackaged items to let me know what my options were. We laughed about his honest assessment that the granola bites were very bland. Once I settled on a chocolate bar and awkwardly fumbled for the right euros to pay for it he told me, “I hope you have a good flight and a good day after that.”

If I didn’t know first hand what great English most young Lithuanians have I would think that these two might not understand the complexities of the language but these were people who have a good command of the language and were expressing genuine sentiments. I think unfortunately most Americans, including myself, would have trouble with earnest displays of affection. In my experience we tend to be more outwardly nice at the expense of real honesty. We pretend to be happy to see everyone and therefore muddy the waters of who we really appreciate. In this way - and in several others - I think we could really benefit from borrowing habits of other cultures, including Lithuania.