Traveling through Lithuania you see many small villages along the roads. Each has a catholic church, and a cemetery and little yellow brick houses. Things are improving a lot in this country, and there is no extreme poverty. Of course, retired people have terrible pensions, and a huge number of young people have left the country. But in general, it is a nice place to live. Families have their gardens now with flowers and budding tomatoes. Each village has a history that spans centuries, and in the forests the fairy tales nearly come to life.

My mother officially transferred her farm to me this week. This is the land that had been in her father’s family for generations, and it was the last place she saw in Lithuania before her family escaped the Soviet invasion during WWII. It is not rich soil, so we cannot grow too much; right now it is buckwheat. There is a farmer who works the land and we are grateful, because it is obligatory to use the land for agriculture. An artist lives in the 2-room farm cottage. We were impressed because he has installed some running water, and now has a toilet and shower. The outhouse is now an unused relic but the wood-burning stove is still in use for cooking. He works at a factory that makes furniture for IKEA, and enjoys the simple life in isolation. Creativity and resourcefulness characterize the transformation of this little farm near Višakio Rūda, Lithuania. I was actually envious of his lifestyle; far from traffic and airplanes, far from fancy cars and fancy bicycles, far from the crowds of multicultural cities. It is about 3 kilometers to the town, with the imposing church, where once long ago, I played the organ to accompany a wedding. There is a sacred spring with healing waters near the old cemetery where we visited the grave of my great grandparents. I now have the true option of being a farmer and retiring in the place of my ancestors.