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by
Juris
Kaža
Re-posted
with permission from his http://thoughtsfromlatvia.blogspot.com/
(the occasion was just
after the 2006 Riga Gay Pride events, originally posted on July 23, 2006)
What
happened during the June 22 Gay Pride events in Riga was so deranged and bizarre
that reasoned and measured comment can only come a few days later, so here are
some raw impressions and thoughts.
Merry
chaos
The
organizations behind the banned Riga Pride 2006 march invited their members and
supporters to a meeting at the Reval Hotel Latvia, a large high-rise hotel in
the center of Riga, about a city block from where the banned march would have
taken place. This was to be an indoor rally at 1400 (2 pm). Around that time
there is nothing but about 150 – 200 people milling around, a number of camera
crews, other media. AFP, which I didn't know had a television or video service,
is already editing something on a laptop.
In
one of the main conference rooms, the sound system is playing We Are Family and
that kind of stuff. Nobody seems to be in charge, but I meet many people from
the ex-exile community who are living in Riga now, that is, folks who used to
live in Sweden, Germany, Canada, the U.S., most of then friends and
acquaintances. More light happy disco or whatever is played for some minutes, I
chat with friends. My time is limited; I have to drive back to my summerhouse in
Carnikava. People I recognize as organizers of the event start milling around
closer to the podium in the «don't worry be happy» disco. An attractive woman,
who I don't recognize, spends several minutes standing by the microphone looking
like she is about to say something. Is she an actress I don't know? She holds
the perfect I am about to say something pose for like three minutes. I leave
before anybody says anything.
The internet portals have been filled with days with people quoting from or
writing their own loonazoid (nice made up word that fit the situation) rants
about some gay conspiracy that has an agenda that will start with gay rights and
finish with various horrors, the forced teaching of gay sex in schools,
adoptions, «recruitment» of non-gays to be gay etc. etc. Well, if this is the
pace at which the conspiracy is moving, I say, don't worry... As I leave I go to
the main spokeslady for the event, Linda F, tell her that I wish all the best,
but, unfortunately, I have now developed a small prejudice, namely, «gays are
bumblers» (which is the best I can do for translating the Latvian term
čammas).
Tossing
shit at a church for Jesus!
Used
to be, you could kill a Commie for Christ (say that in a John Wayne voice to get
my drift), but there aren’t enough left. So what happened in Riga as I was
told at the disco waiting to become a conference, was that Christians tossed
bags of shit at churches, clergymen (my old Latvian camp counselor Juris
Calitis), worshipers, and even an Estonian tourist (never mind the tourists at
the Reval Latvija who, mistaken for possible gays, were abused in an
incomprehensible language and had eggs thrown at them.) The Estonian tourist was
a large young woman in a plain t-shirt, short dark hair, slacks, either just at
the wrong place at the wrong time, or fitting someone’s hallucination of what
a lesbian might look like. «Real women» in Latvia apparently, are blond
near-anorexic Barbies (at least until they have a couple of kids, as God ordered…).
Oddly, Ms I am about to speak at the hotel nearly fit that bill, though she also
looked intelligent (Barbie lets Ken do that) and had apparently eaten during the
last month. Anyway, Latvia can now patent the latest form of Christian
fundamentalist protest, tossing shit at a church for Jesus.
Holy
shit and how to gather it
Before
we all (or most of us cynics) chuckle at this, think about the practicalities of
such actions. Somebody had to collect and load the projectiles. This means
either a hunt for dog feces, or doing it yourself. Not a major problem in Riga,
just quality issues (in warm, dry weather, you lose spatter potential quickly).
The other alternative is to supply it oneself, basically to either shit into a
plastic bag (SAS soldiers on ultra-covert missions are trained to do this, not
ordinary citizens) or to have one large container with several contributors.
Then someone has to fill the baggies.
All
of this is doable, but what makes it all the more bizarre is that the NoPride
faction, to the point of beating this one aspect to death, emphasized their
revulsion at anal sex by some gays, and called them «shit pusher». I guess it
took a lot of prayer and determination to get past this revulsion of excrement
(hey, I’m with these guys and gals on this matter, I have an outhouse type
toilet at the summerhouse) and make those projectiles.
A
lesson in sodomy
Before
we leave this particular theme, one of the many gonzo aspects of the whole
madhouse was that the NoPride faction were the only ones to have displayed
explicit symbols of sexual activity in public places (one of the main objections
to the Pride march was that gays would «demonstrate their sexuality» openly).
The NoPride symbol was a no parking type of red circle with a slash covering two
stick figures engaged in anal sex (the «passive» one even has a stick penis to
make the point).
At
a later point in the whole gonzo afternoon ( I was back in Riga), an older lady
in one of these explicit sodomy t-shirts (it was size or two too large)
approached me in the middle of a heated discussion (more on this later). She
thrust the shirt at me (I am tempted, I go for it and therefore write: «lifting
it from her withered dugs») and asked whether I knew what that was. I tried to
politely say, yes. I now regret that I didn’t ask for a detailed explanation.
The
raging pseudo-nun
The
worst experience of the day was yet to come. You are thinking of confronting the
mob by the hotel (by the way, an hours long unsanctioned demonstration,
involving hooliganism and violence)? Wrong! I drove two 10 and 11 year old kids
to watch Garfield II and for 40 minutes each way, they insisted I turn the radio
(loud) to European Hit Radio (104.3 FM in Latvia). I yearned for the disco
sounds of the gay meeting, which must have eventually started.
While
my son and his pal were at the movies, I strolled to the Reval Latvija thinking
things must have ended. Wrong again. The mob and the riot squad were still
there, one chanting and tossing stuff, the other relaxing. The siege of the
hotel had gone on for hours and it was hot, yet again, over 25 C for sure. I
took out my phone (new Nokia N80) and shot some video.
I
was approached by a polite young man standing in front of the mob who asked why
I was defending the homosexuals. I said that was not the point, I was defending
the right of anyone in Latvia to peacefully gather and express their views. He
said he was a father of three and I said so am I. He was worried that
homosexuality would somehow “spread” to children, etc. and a whole gay
agenda (marriage, adoption, etc) would descend on Latvia. I said that to
advocate homosexuality was as impossible or silly as addressing a crowd of
full-grown adults and saying “be taller” because tallness is good or better
than being of short or medium stature, and because it would make Latvia a better
basketball nation. There is, I said, no way to persuade people to be taller and
there is no way to persuade people to be gay. Doesn’t happen. A different
story when it comes to attitudes, loyalties, whatever, like convincing someone
to join a party, a church or organization.
Holy
vodka
Well,
that discussion was sort of cut off as more people joined it, started shouting.
Some people addressed me in Russian, which I don’t understand. Nearby was a
woman in a headscarf holding a religious picture and a bottle of clear liquid
with Russian lettering on it. It was in the same shape as one of the squarish,
somewhat artsy vodka bottles sold at supermarkets. I thought this woman was some
kind of nun or member of a religious order. She asked me why I had signed a
petition by Latvian intellectuals against intolerance and supporting freedom of
speech, I had not. Last year, I signed one supporting the first Pride (again on
human rights and free speech considerations).
I
couldn’t place the bottle. The lady wasn’t drunk (weird, perhaps,
intoxicated, no). We also have a short discussion about the fact that I am
married but don’t have a wedding ring. My wife and I don’t follow this
tradition, that’s all. Which seems weird to the weird lady… By now the
shouting was increasing, it was no longer a discussion but people bellowing in
two languages at me and everyone in general. There were camera crews and other
journalists around. Someone got the idea that I should go home. As the movie was
going to end in around 30 minutes, I, too, thought this was a good idea, but I
would go by the Forum Cinemas first, thank you…
Now
the mob is bellowing at full volume, alternating between “Go Home” in
Latvian and another two word slogan, which may have been a grotesque
mispronunciation of “No Pride” or some phrase in Russian (though I know what
that language sounds like). Reflecting now that most of that particular mob was
some kind of religious loonies, I wonder if the phrase was not some kind of
speaking in tongues. I finally go inside the hotel.
US
anti-gay holy rollers involved?
I
spent some minutes talking to a German TV journalist; we try to do an interview,
but are turned out of the second floor of the Hotel Latvija as the last of the
gay supporters are evacuated through the back door. Back out again, I do a face
to camera with the crowd chanting “Naah Praazd” or something like that.
Someone tosses an egg at me, which misses (or was this earlier). The loonies
(Latvians and Russians alike) chant “God Bless Latvia” in Latvian, then (I
missed exactly what they were doing, I was dealing with the German journalist)
apparently said a prayer (telling Jesus how much shit they tossed at his Dad’s
house??) and dispersed with almost military precision. One wonders whether all
of this has anything to do with the anti-gay religious sect sponsored in Latvia
by US holy rollers and described in the American journalist and commentator Doug
Ireland’s Direland
blog (he writes extensively on gay-related issues). On evening television, the
pseudo-nun is shown throwing herself on a taxi carrying a gay activist and
spraying it with a liquid. It turns out her high-class vodka bottle was
not that at all, but holy water (apparently the Russian orthodox have this too).
An exorcism as you drive by, or a holy car wash?
Later,
it is reported that unknown cars tried to run the taxi, with the gay activist
and some sympathizers from Sweden (?) off the road on the way to the airport.
This is where it gets serious, and I will get serious in a later post; The
pseudo-nun (or does her church have married nuns?) turns out to be the wife of
the mega-anti gay, denomination hopping preacher, folksinger and social critic
(from a wackaloonie perspective) Kaspars Dimiters. So it all makes sense, doesn’t
it?
Shit-throwing
Christians and the pseudo-nun (original link)
Ex-Minister
Note: This article was posted and later pulled. Why? While I strongly desire to
seek common ground with Christians, events such as outlined within Juris'
excellent article here should NEVER HAPPEN! When they do, it shouldn't fall down
the "memory hole" nor should peace seeking people be ashamed of
posting some undesirable history that should be accessible even if it
embarrasses fundamentalist Christians that show no remorse! The Christian
minister that had the feces thrown at him was Brian's wife Everita's minister
Juris Calitis. I know Juris
Calitis to be an outstanding example of what a Christian should be, he has my
highest respect!!! Although this event took place in 2006, homophobia is rampant
within the Baltics to this day. Brian has re-thought and thinks that this
article should remain so that homophobic awareness is strong and vigilant!
Ex-Minister.org
posted by Brian Worley June 21, 2009
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