Couchsurfing

My trip to Lithuania could have been a lonesome affair if it weren't for the website www.couchsurfing.org. In a nutshell, the idea of this site is quite simple: linking travellers (surfers) with people residing (hosts) in, or people familiar with, the place of interest. This way surfers can get to experience the place they're visiting from a different perspective and hosts get to learn about where surfers come from. And if surfers get along well with their host, well... they can brag about having a friend in that country and maybe give themselves a reason for a repeat visit. It's a win-win situation for both sides. In my case, since there are couchsurfers all over the world, it pretty much means that I can meet people in every country I visit during my journey across Easter Europe.

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The first couchsurfer I met in Vilnius, Lithuania, is a writer and teaches creative writing. The daughter of Lithuanian parents who immigrated to America, she was raised and educated in New York. Poetry is her passion - and Lithuanian poetry, at that. More than anything, she wanted to translate Lithuanian literary works into English so they can be discovered and be appreciated by a wider audience. When she learnt that Vilnius University was inviting students to study literary translation in the Lithuanian Literature Department, everything became clear: she signed up for the program, packed her bags and left for Vilnius. This was the late 80's - Lithuania was under soviet occupation and officially called the Soviet Socialist Republic of Lithuania. She arrived at a time when nationalist sentiment was taking off. The movement for independence was getting bolder at staging rallies and protests against oppression from the communist regime and demanding independence. The streets of Vilnius at the time were riotous with courage, fear and repression. This couchsurfer, during her one year stay in Vilnius, got involved in the push for independence - especially since she is fluent in both English and Lithuanian. I would have liked to know more about her experiences, but we met on one of her busy days. She was exhausted and my social skills are, sadly, not up to par for keeping people awake and wanting to talk. However, she kept a diary of her all her experiences during those troubled times and she recently published in a book with an absolutely wicked title: Lenin's Head on a Platter. The book is in English and she very kindly offered it to me as a gift, a gesture I very much appreciated.

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My meeting with the second couchsurfer had a disastrous start: I made her wait in the rain for 10 minutes. I'm not often late to a meet, but I must have badly misjudged the distance from my B&B to our meeting point. The poor soul was pacing around impatiently when I got to her. I apologized profusely - nearly falling to my knees - and confessed that I, indeed, am a most wretched creature for making a lady wait in the rain. Once satisfied by my drama she led the way to Music Club Tamsta, a bar that featured a live act on that night: Arlina Orlova. My conversation with the couchsurfer started off very conservatively: on our way to the bar I told her of the things I saw in Lithuania and, at our table in the club, we each talked about our profession in life.

The club has a modern look: its walls and furniture were painted in dark and clashing colors. The stage was right next to our table, as well as a metal stair case leading to a balcony that stretches the entire length of the wall. I felt relaxed and chatty, but our conversation was too broken up by silent pauses. I felt like we needed a good jolt of randomness to formally break the ice. All of a sudden two children ran down the metal stair case and dashed in front of me, shrieking in joy. I slowly leant towards the couchsurfer and, in a trembling voice, whispered: "there are children here." She leaned towards me, her dreamy eyes looking into mine and her smile sarcastic, and whispered: "is it a problem for you?" Ice broken - carpe diem.

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Oh, and the band was absolutely brilliant! It was a three person act: singer/keyboardist, violinist and guitarist. The music was of the alternative kind and the songs were mostly sad but sung beautifully. The singer, Arlina Orlova, is in her twenties. She's blonde, very white and very skinny, but her voice is haunting and expressive: trembling at times, then pleading only to suddenly tear into a wild frenzy. It was emotional, mesmerizing and a beautiful way to be introduced to the city of Vilnius.