Vabamu

I hope I am not getting compassion fatigue. Shoes on the Danube, KGB cells and now suitcases, twenty-one of them in a piece called In Exile.

It has been created to remind me “of the tens of thousands of Estonians that had to leave their homes during and after the Second World War against their will and under pressure from the foreign powers that had occupied Estonia. For many of them this journey was their last.”

They are outside Vabamu, a modern museum which shows Estonian recent history, meaning from WW II. To begin with it is grim, like the stories told in the KGB cells. Later it cheers up as much as possible under Soviet oppression.  The typical kitchen looks rather more up to date than Irish kitchens in the 1960s.

The exhibition combines spoken and written reminiscences with numerous objects. One of the things Estonians took when sent into camps in Siberia were small pots with soil from Estonia, as well as more practical items such as sewing kits and warm clothes. Some managed to leave voluntarily and one of only two surviving boats used to get across the Baltic was on display. The voyage was no fun, specially if the weather was bad.

Curiously, I met a man from Mayo at the museum who reminded me that the Irish have had 900 years of invasion and oppression. A bit embarrassing for me as a descendant of Norman oppressors. He caught his first salmon aged ten and made money selling them. I told him I had to wait until I was thirty-eight. I did not ask him if he had learnt to poach aged ten.but I assume so.

If you are puzzled by Vabamu, Vaba means Free and obviously Mu means museum. Don’t take literally; entry was 10 euros.