The Beautiful People of Kaunas

On these back-country roads in these back-country countries, I see weird old bus stops in the middle of nowhere. They're all messed up but fascinating. Strange curves and patterned tiles. Prison bars and round benches. People use them. Where do the people come from? 

I dreamed of having the leisure to come back and photograph them, and then I thought it was sad that a project like that would have been a book once and would probably just be a tumblr page now. And then I looked to see if there were any cool photos online, and a guy had already done it. AND had published a book about it. AND it's a best-seller. 

That made me tremendously happy. I bought the book. 

Thinking about it because some of the photography on this trip is opportunity and location and some is energy. I saw an amazing building across the river, and I want to shoot it, and I have an hour before I have to be on a bus again, but... this is sort of the first day where I just want to sit a little. Like a person. 

I found someone else's heavily filtered picture of it. 

(not my pic)

Kaunas is a great town with an immediate difference in energy than Poland. Brighter, faster. The main drags here are called Laisves aleja and Vilniaus gatve, two long tree-lined streets scattered, smothered, and covered with cafes, boutiques, and amber shops. I can make up for my amber regrets!

God, amber. It was such a big deal to my grandmother. It made her crazy, She was crazy for sea gold. Like, I guess even real amber looks fake, so she had all these tests to prove the authenticity of it. I remember being a little boy and her showing me that when you rub real amber it makes static electricity, or something.

I gave one of my girlfriends a green amber ring and Grandma went out of her way to say it was synthetic. I found all sorts of evidence showing that amber comes in colors other than... amber, but she was like, "Lies planted by those who would sell fake amber!"

Thinking about it, because I'm wondering why it matters. If it's pretty and you like looking at it, why does it need to be "real." It's not like you'll later need to trade it to a soldier in return for a bag of rolls. 

In any case, these tree-lined avenues are gorgeous and stretch on leisurely for miles. And those miles are populated with attractive, stylish people. There is money here, and style. They have the tall, lean grace of Scandinavians but with an appealing edge. It's like their grandparents fucked a few Russians to get some stank in there. 

So, it's not the remote High Elf unapproachable beauty of, like, Norway, but a sort of punky, healthy, coltish attractiveness aided by an impeccable, casual style. Not overdone but not random. There are no dandies but no slobs. It's all the right leather jackets, the right sunglasses, the right accessories. 

On a sun-drenched Friday, Kaunas will break your neck. The people look like like fruit labels come to life. If I were a real man with desires instead of being what I am, something left behind when a pig coughed, I'd be lying on the white pebbles breathing hard and checking my bank balance. 

And they are everywhere. Draped over statues, stretched out on park benches, walking in pairs and packs. 

I'm staying in a hostel with a hallway decorated by past guests. It's cute to see their teenage wisdom on the walls, "Live your life!" "Follow all the dreams!" You kind of get the sense that the locals.... actually live that way. It's impossible to say, really. All I know is they were the first to kick the Commies out and they love basketball. 

There's a kitchen with dirty mugs. Bean bags, a foosball table. I have a big, private room, because I have body hair and a credit card. 

A lot of strange public statues. This is true of all the former Iron Curtain places, but these are... like there's a floating man and a super hairy man and a weirdo with a twisted horn. Very appealing. Also, curvy Orthodox churches. 

These places were all invaded by Western Europe during the Northern Crusades. Those are the Crusades that actually worked. Like, all those dudes who went to the holy land came back in a salt shaker, because the Moors knew which edge of the scimitar to shred them with.

But the gentle pagans up here didn't have the same level of organization, so they're still Christian to this day. Thanks, English and British fortune seekers!

You never hear much about the Northern Crusades, probably because they were successful and it's not polite to talk about it.

Had a very cool, long walk and tried some of the local fare. Big meat-stuffed potatoes, herring and sour cream, rolled meats on soft brown bread, bitters. I loved the cepelinai, a big, crazy dumpling. Like, I'm sure it bullies the perogi and pushes the wonton around. I've seen a few ravioli that could give it a fight, but it's heartier. If you don't count the fried things they call dumplings in India, the cepelinia might be the roughest and toughest.

Spoke briefly with some locals when I asked them for directions. Instead of just pointing, they wanted to know about me. I noticed in general that the people don't shy from eye contact here. And it isn't a warning or "the male gaze," it feels like curiosity.

I told them I was a playwright exploring the Baltics. They told me they were architects and layabouts. That's been something on this trip. I haven't met a man under thirty who has a job other than driver. The women under thirty have been lawyers and architects. I don't know if there's gender equity in Eastern Europe, but there's definitely diversity in the small sample size I've been exposed to.

I head to Vilnius today, a larger, artier, even more Lithuanian city. It's close, maybe an hour away, but they say it's pretty different. They better have herring and bitters, though.