The other day, I visited my farm near Višakio Rūda, in the center of Lithuania. The oak tree that my mother and I planted some 20 years ago has grown and is healthy and strong. The lawn was freshly mowed and everything is in top shape, taken care of by the industrious tenant who adds character and artistic touches to what was once a dilapidated hovel. He works at the Ikea furniture factory, and earns too little money for too much work. It is clear that the managers are taking the profits, and the dedicated workers, putting in 12-hour days, with no holidays off, are squeaking by. Scientists have it hard too. Grants are extremely competitive, and PhD researchers don’t make much more than the friendly factory worker. Since independence in 1990 around 825 thousand people or almost one third of the population has left the country. Jobs are lacking, prices are high, and salaries are low. England and Ireland are the favorite EU destinations, but now Lithuanians are living throughout the world.

But those who stay love their country. Patriotism is overflowing like the beer in the many outdoor cafes. On the television, nightly musical programs showcase mediocre rock bands singing their ballades with televised Lithuanian flags behind them. There are certainly the wealthy people, with their expensive Porsches and Mercedes, and then the regular people, who still have the post-Soviet style haircuts and take the rather shabby buses. The forests are green despite the short drought, and nature and space are abundant.

This is not a big tourist year in Vilnius, at least not yet. Some new restaurants have popped up. I am eating beet soups regularly, and of course my favorite black bread, which really is worth a trip. At a Hare Krishna restaurant in Kaunas, I had cepelinai, potato dumplings stuffed with vegetables instead of the traditional meat. Yesterday at one of the Vilnius museums, I saw an art opening featuring the collections of items from Asia of an older man who donated his many souvenirs. Vilnius seems at the same time both cosmopolitan and provincial. It is a capital city, but a distant one.

Flowers are a little withered already at the Botanical garden, but that didn’t stop the many white-gowned weddings from overrunning the park. I saw some few darker skinned kids, and recognized myself in them, as a noticeable oddity in this still quite racially pure society. Now would be a good time to invest in this country, because just as everywhere else, immigrants and diversity will arrive. The economy will expand. For now, it is a pleasure to be in a city that still lacks the homogenous mix of cultures that is now becoming rather commonplace in the more affluent countries. This culture has retained authenticity and identity, but vegetable filled potato dumplings served by blonde sari-wearing waitresses are just the first sign of the changes on the horizon.