A sombre day

Tuesday, May 12.

Gunārs Nāgels, one of the friends of brother Ojars has made arrangements for us to join an English language tour of the infamous Corner House. It was once a very fine residential building. It gained its notoriety during the whole of the Soviet regime when it was the HQ of the state secret police. After the re-established independence, it was used as a police station and was only relatively recently opened to visitors. We are expected as we arrive to join a small group of English speaking tourists.

This is the infamous Corner House. The main entry is on the very corner.

Basically, the story to me is not new. The history of the Soviet secret police is well known to all of my generation, exiled from Latvia. After all, our family fled because we were candidates for the grand Siberian adventure in 1941. However, being confronted by the remains of the physical reality reminds one that it is nothing at all like being physically there. I really don’t want to write about it in detail but I will for the sake of the younger generation.

The secret police arrested people for the most trifling reasons but usually given any kind of feeble political spin. Thousands were tortured and many hundreds shot within the building. Many others were sent directly to Siberian labour camps. The horror part of the building is the ground floor and the basement where the worst atrocities took place. The top part was occupied by the secret police officials. The images are no doubt more telling.

The entry hall has mirrors on both sides. Our guide offers the view that it is symbolic of Communism. It only reflect itself but in the end, there is nothing there; there is no substance.  

Entrance to the cell section.

The cell door.

A single cell. The toilet was a bucket.

Interrogation room. The object on the table is a rubber truncheon. Sleep depravation, beating and a starvation diet were the main submission techniques.

An unimaginatively Spartan kitchen produced watery soup and a small piece of bread once a day. We were shown a small soundproof room where women are believed to have been raped.

The exercise yard. This is as big as it is. Prisoners were allowed out one hour per day but not allowed to talk to others.

The shot prisoners were removed through this door. It is a double door airlock space. I could not bear  to photograph the execution room.

The final exit door is the large deep set one.

We are quite sickened and depressed, even if it is with the knowledge that anyone in Soviet Latvia could have ended up there or any similar institution in other cities. For reasons not know to me, the equivalent place in Liepaja was referred to as Zilais Brīnums – the Blue Wonder. My father’s name was found in its files when the Communists had to leave it in a hurry, chased out by the German army. It is a relatively short tour as the ground and basement are the only levels of significant interest and there are no displays other than the bare rooms in their raw and untouched state. I could not bring myself to photograph the room where shootings took place.

We have purchased a 24 hour go anywhere / hop on and off ticket for public transport for E6 each. Seeing that each ride normally costs E2, this is pretty good tourist value. At that price, you can even afford to get lost.

The Riga public transport system is very good but a better map would make even more convenient for visitors.

We badly need some diversion. We catch a tram to the ‘other’, Western (Pārdaugava) side of the river. It is just a matter of looking out and getting off where it appears interesting. After a short stroll, we suddenly find ourselves in Āgenskalns, the part of the city where we visited the Saturday market with Aivars. We recognise it by its buildings.

As it is about lunch time, we take our place on one of the outdoor terraces. The whole group of buildings has a very cosy and intimate feel. The very obliging waitress tells us that the area is under one ownership. The restaurant and other buildings adjacent were originally private houses, built around the 30’s. They are wooden and probably among the first outer suburban small ‘villas’ of the time. I ask an elderly lady for directions in Latvian. She understands but replies in Russian. I understand and thank her in Russian. This is Riga today. As we stroll on towards the local under cover market, the area reveals itself as a probably socially modest but quite attractive and well treed medium density inner ‘suburban’ part of town.

Excellent setting, food and service together with hand embroidered napkins.

We sit and wait for our tram back. An old lady starts a conversation about the social problems many people have. There is a heavily inebriated destitute person also waiting, physically supported by another, both obviously not all that well off. There are people obviously with difficulties managing their lives but so are individuals and families in Australia. Soon we are back nearly where we started from but in the process have managed to hop on to a wrong tram. It happens because one forgets that the traffic moves on the opposite side to ours back home.

Our Āgenskalns market destination before returning to the city.

As we approach our base, we hear someone call out “Lois”, then “Juris”. Who could that be? We are no longer that well known in this town. We turn back and see Ivars Birze, a friend from Sydney. This is a surprise that is difficult to accommodate but we know that the links between Latvia and the Australian Latvians have expanded over recent years. He has to move on with the traffic but we exchange enough information that he lives nearby and we will email him.

Via his email address from Sydney, we exchange local telephone numbers and agree to get together as soon as we can fit it in.

The Library from across the river.

We have no evening engagements tonight. This is an opportunity to attend to one or two more blog pieces. I enjoy doing this form of diarising but it can take a significant amount of time selecting and organising the images. I trust readers enjoy both.