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EESTI ELU reedel, 18. detsembril 2020 — Friday, December 18, 2020
Nr. 50/51
Global Estonian Report: Christmas Edition, online – GlobalEstonian.com ERR, December 2020
English-language supplement to the Estonian weekly “EESTI ELU” Tartu College Publications Founding Chairman: Elmar Tampõld Editor: Laas Leivat 3 Madison Avenue, Toronto, ON M5R 2S2 T: 416-733-4550 • F: 416-733-0944 • E-mail: editor@eestielu.ca Digital: www.eestielu.ca
I got the blues on my first Canadian Christmas It was early January 1949. We – my grandmother, mother, father and I – had arrived in North America, on the Swedish passenger liner, the ‘Stockholm’ from Goteborg, through New York’s Ellis Island. My father, who had already visited New York City in the 1930’s, took us on a walking tour of Times Square, with its million attractions and the first dark-skinned people I had ever seen. After a day-long train trip to Montreal, we were kindly welcomed and housed at the Soosaar’s apartment in Mont real’s Notre-Dame-de-Grâce, NDG, district, not far from downtown and butting up to the stately mansions of Westmount. My father was immediately offered an officer’s job on the ships of the Canada Steamship Lines and left for two years for the waters off Africa and South America. We were eventually settled at the Kerson’s house (Villem Kärssen from Kassari) on Harvard Avenue, the home of a cousin of my father who had left Hiiumaa for Canada already before WWI. He had to relearn Estonian, which he accomplished and became the president of the Montreal Estonian Society for a number of years after WWII. Montreal in January is cold and snow-bound. It didn’t take long for me to assume the life of a typical young boy in the Montreal winter. Hockey! Bruce and Barry, early friends upon arriving at the Harvard Avenue home, saw my yearning for joining the skating frenzy and gave me a battered, rusty pair of skates and a hockey stick with some of the blade still intact. I was in heaven. My daily routine was to rush home, change to skates, grab my hockey stick and click, clack over the sidewalks and streets to the nearest hockey rink, return home two hours late for supper thoroughly soaked from the numerous times I fell as an unsteady novice. The wrath of my mother and grandmother was tolerable, since the punishment – no more hockey after school – could be bypassed because both were at work, hence nobody home as
enforcer. This disobedience was to be repeated for four winters, till we moved to Toronto. Even though the neighbourhood rinks were temporary, seasonal ice surfaces, our hockey season was long. The day by day for a pre-teen in Montreal’s winter was school, hockey rink, and school, hockey rink, etc. Sleep and meals were necessary fillers. We played till the ice became slush in March with patches of grass and mud slowing our skating speed. It was only a matter of weeks in 1949, for an eightyear-old Estonian speaking kid to become enamored of the only heroes that young boys in Montreal could have – the legendary players of the Montreal Canadiens, the Habs. Rocket Richard, Jean Beliveau, Bernie Geoffrion, Doug Harvey, could do no wrong. Even the 1950–51 Stanley Cup loss to the Maple Leafs didn’t dampen any fervour I had for these great idols. I even summoned enough courage to knock on the door of the Habs’ star goalie, Gerry McNeill, to get his autograph. He graciously gave it. For our first Canadian Christmas, my mother had bought a scraggly spruce and decorated it with small bits of cotton and candles which we lit on Christmas Eve. Seeing this, Villem Kerson ripped the candles off the tree and scolded my mother and grandmother for their disregard of the fire hazard. We couldn’t afford lights and our tree stood ‘au natural’ – bare needles with a scattering of cotton snow. Soon thereafter we moved to a small apartment at Grand Boulevard and Somerled. I slept in a room with my grandmother and when she had fallen asleep I listened to Bing Crosby, Amos and Andy, and Fibber McGee and Molly with the blanket over my head to muffle the sound of the small, second-hand radio. Foster Hewitt, the nasal voice of Hockey Night in Canada was my source of general knowledge and moral direction. For three months Montreal shivers, in a climate much different than the four years we had lived as war refugees in Hälsingborg in southern Swe den. So for Christmas in 1949,
Between 165,000 and 200,000 Estonians are estimated to live outside the country right now, making around 15-20 percent of the total number of Estonians. With many com munities being found world wide, both in English-speak ing countries and beyond, ERR News, in conjunction with the Integration Foun dation (Integratsiooni Sihta sutus), has launched a weekly Global Estonian Report, which gives a weekly window into Estonian communities and culture from around the globe. Since Christmas is around the corner, this week’s edition has a definite Yuletide angle! Upcoming Online Events Let’s sing Christmas songs together! Laulame koos jõulu laule! (December 20, online) The Association of Estonian Cultural Societies (EKSÜ) continues its web series “I, Estonian” (Mina, Eestlane). Since it is Christmas time, the program will feature a world-wide joint singing of traditional Estonian folk Christmas songs over the web. The virtual choir is conducted by musicians Toomas and Inga Lunge. The aim of the series is to open Estonian culture to the world through a series of online conversations, lectures and concerts. 9th Annual Estonian Christmas / Rahvajõulupuu: Virtual Edition (December 10-24, online) An Estonian Christmas/ Rahvajõulupuu has always been a way for the Estonian community in Canada to celebrate as one. Although we can’t gather in person this year, we can still be together! Explore these web-
my mother bought me a thick turtleneck sweater, several sizes too large, one that would last for some years. It was as blue as any blue could be with an in-your-face Toronto Maple Leafs insignia emblazoned tauntingly on the chest. The scratchiness of the wool was nothing compared to the stares I expected from the solid army of Habs’ fanatics, all of whom wore their Canadiens red as battle colours. Montreal’s pint-sized hockey stalwarts swore allegiance to the crimson regalia. The Leaf’s blue seemed to have been banished from the rinks of Montreal. My memory could be flawed, but I don’t recall the neighbourhood Estonian boys – Keto Soosaar, Ants Toi, Toomas Valdin, Juho Krepp, Jaan Raudsepp, Jaan Lattik and others – having to pester any zealous Montreal loyalist with eye-jarring Toronto garb.
During the pandemic somethings still remain the same. Ülle Veltmann supplies her traditional jõuluvorstid at Estonian House. Photo: P. Kiilaspea
pages and get to know the many organizations, vendors, chefs, performers and ideas that make up our wonderful community. It is the mission of the Estonian Foundation of Canada to support and promote Esto nian culture – and keep us all connected to our heritage. Christmas News Review Blood, Guts and Glory – making “verivorstid” Every Christmas time, passionate Estonians in commu nities around the globe get together to make ‘verivorstid’ (blood sausages). Learn about the blood sausage-making process and the communal spirit this time-honoured Yuletide tradition has for Estonians living abroad. Want to cut down a Christmas tree in Estonia? There’s an app for that Not only was the first Christmas tree erected in Tallinn town square in 1441, Estonia’s state forest manage-
I didn’t complain because that would be ungrateful. Eventually though I asked my mother why blue, since that colour wasn’t seen anywhere near an ice rink? My mother said that blue ‘looked better’. This belied her love of Hiiumaa folk dress, featuring red as its most prominent hue. Although much advanced from the winter before, my awkward skating style hadn’t yet reached the proficiency level of those Montrealers, both English and French, who probably had their skates strapped on while still at their mothers’ breasts. My lower skills heightened my self-consciousness already in place due to the rogue sweater. But my anxiety from wearing the enemy’s blue wasn’t as justified as I had feared. While that offensive colour turned a few heads, it still didn’t spur any real confrontations. Probab
ment centre also has a mobile app to help find you one to cut down and bring home! BritishEstonian entrepreneur Adam Rang explains how the app works. Share your Christmas memo ries and traditions on film! Take part in the initiative to collect films showcasing the lives of Estonian communities abroad by sharing your Yuletide memories and traditions. The initiative takes place in co operation with ETV2 and its purpose is to produce new episodes of the show 8 mm ELU (LIFE on 8 mm) and update the Vabamu Museum of Occupations and Freedom collection with films depicting the lives of Estonian communities abroad. What is Global Estonian? Global Estonian is an online portal, in Estonian and English, and network for Estonians and friends of Estonians around the world.
ly my lack of sufficient hockey prowess wasn’t a threat to opponents on ice yet. Finally, a fully-padded hockey hopeful, whose clumsiness equaled mine, asked about the choice of colours. I said the store was sold out of anything red. I knew he took this as a lie, but I couldn’t summon anything plausible. It didn’t take long for me to understand the deeper meaning of red for my mother and for most Estonian refugees. It was the ‘Reds’ who had taken over our country, shipped relatives to Siberia, killed innocents. Even as young as I was I just couldn’t take any mockery or puzzling looks were I to give the real reason for my blue sweater. Blue became my favourite colour. So I feel at home with Blues stars like B.B.King, Muddy Waters and Leadbelly. I know that’s a stretch. LAAS LEIVAT