Tits out for the trash mags

Mari-Leen, the original 'Disturbed Cinderella', is staring out at us from front-end displays once again as she graces (for want of a better word) the cover of the latest issue of Kroonika. Things have been sexed up though since the photo shoot for the equally intellectual Just! in July made her beau, Sietse Bakker - Dutch former supremo of the Eurovision website esctoday.com and current online something-or-other for the EBU - look like a total dork.

According to Kroonika, the "extraordinarily successful" singer has, at the age of 19, finally found true love - which in this case clearly involves a jeans fetish and penchant for bondage. But then, our Ms Kaselaan has never shied away from talking about her sex life. Earlier in the year she made front page news in the highbrow tabloid SL Õhtuleht, with a headline revealing what we all needed to know in that the "rock chick" lost her virginity at the age of 16: a perfectly reasonable age to do so, in her own words.

It's good to know that young girls, the aspiring glitterati of Estonia, have someone of their own to look up to as a role model for natural beauty and the truly important things in life - like how to fit a chihuahua into a Gucci clutchbag.

Trams, planes and automobiles

It's been talked about for ages, but finally City Hall has come out and laid their plans on the table. Two new tramlines are being planned to run from the city centre: one to the concrete jungle of Lasnamäe, and the other - good news for travellers to Tallinn - between the city's main railway station and the airport.

It seems that the other proposed new lines and extensions (to Mustamäe and Pirita) will have to wait: these new additions alone will take up to six years to complete and cost the city as much as four billion kroons, a large chunk of which it hopes to beg, steal or borrow from the EU.

The end result is nevertheless likely to significantly ease the burden on existing public transport and make the wait more than worthwhile.

Labouring the point

An article in today's Postimees claims that the rules thought up by public servants from the Ministry of Social Affairs governing what children can and can't do in schools and orphanages are so removed from real life that they are turning them into lazy, cheeky little arseholes incapable of looking after themselves.

Or words to that effect. The article, which turned out to be something of a political vox populi and took two whole journalists to write, highlights the ridiculously finnicky lengths officials would have things taken to - if anyone took any notice of them - as well as the contradictions inherent in them which make you question whether they really are placing child safety first.

Followed to the letter, the regulations would prohibit children from doing just about any cleaning up after themselves, and would send them home (or not even let them out the front door in the first place) if a wind whips up on winter days. They wouldn't even be allowed to make gingerbread men at Christmas.

Lea Tikenberg, the child protection officer from the Haiba orphanage in Harju County, points out that not only are children shielded from anything approaching everyday responsibility, they are also very aware of what they can't be forced to do. "They tell you that you're there to do the work, not them," she said. "But I've been here for five years, and a bit of work never did any of these kids any harm."

Of course, those who support the rules do so claiming that they are there to prevent children from being used as little more than slave labour. Chancellor of Justice Allar Jõks has pointed out that this is not unheard of. "Unfortunately we've seen lots of cases where children have had to get down and scrub the toilet bowls and the like."

Others have highlighted the contradictions in the rules: children are not allowed to wash their own dishes, but are allowed to make themselves a cup of tea or boil themselves an egg.

Former Education Minister Mailis Reps says that the Ministry of Social Affairs is living on another planet - clearly one where they are a lot less resilient when it comes to the cold. She remains as critical today as she was while in office of the weather rules. "If the wind's blowing from the wrong direction, there are places in Estonia where the kids won't be going to school for months," she said.

Fellow former minister Paul-Eerik Rummo, once responsible for the population's affairs (as it were) and having visited a good number of orphanages in his time, has the last word. He feels the regulations should be changed so that the kinds of things kids are asked to do is within the bounds of normality - for as he says: "It was astounding to see 15 and 16-year-olds who have never peeled a potato in their life."

http://www.postimees.ee/301007/esileht/siseuudised/292388.php

Dying for a drink

In a sobering article in the ever-thoughtful SL Õhtuleht, one of the country's leading tabloid psychiatrists has declared that Estonia is committing national suicide.

Jüri Ennet says that Estonians are drinking themselves into an early [mass] grave, with a surge in alcohol-related deaths in the last decade claiming the lives of thousands. He describes the situation in the country as 'catastrophic'. “With the amount people drink here, the nation's simply killing itself!” he proclaimed, rather dramatically.

Ennet's black view of the nation's fate is based on World Health Organisation data which states that if more than 10 litres of alcohol is consumed in a country per capita each year, things aren't looking too good. The psychiatrist suggests that the figure for Estonia is 13.4 litres. “And we're not talking about tourists here,” he points out. “Every last drop of that is being put away by Estonians!”

As might be expected, and as is probably fair, up to a point, Ennet lays the blame squarely at the government's door. He says that the drug and alcohol problem in Estonia has grown so huge that it should be dealt with personally by the Prime Minister himself. “It's a matter of life and death!”

Salutary words.

http://www.sloleht.ee/index.aspx?id=251696

Broadcast quality

Estonian Television has come under a hail of criticism lately from a number of unexpected sources. One of the most vocal has been disenchanted ex-employee Vahur Kersna, who has used his position as the country's most popular [former?] TV host to the max in venting his spleen and casting aspersions left, right and centre. Now, however, a heavyweight of a different kind has opened fire on the national broadcaster.

Sydney Olympics decathlon gold medallist and current MP Erki Nool has lambasted ETV in an opinion piece in Postimees for failing to give the people what they want. In it, he waffles on a bit about sport and uses sporting metaphors to make his point, but the top and tails of the article should give you an idea of where he's coming from.

_____

There's an old adage that people vote with their feet. They go wherever things are good, and they prefer whatever is good. If a new production doesn't take off in the theatre and plays to empty halls, no theatre manager is ever going to blame the public for failing to understand the art of it – he simply cancels the play and puts on a new one that will get bums back on seats.

Television is one big stage. But it is one which seems to be subject to different laws, at least where dear old ETV is concerned. Although the public here are voting with their remote controls (if not their feet), it doesn't appear to be bothering the management in the slightest.

Am I just not seeing it or is good entertainment on ETV so well hidden that anything similar put on by other channels is laughed out of the room? I mean come on, if the Swedish Ambassador is unashamed to take part in Dancing With The Stars, why isn't it good enough for ETV to show? Is charity, self-depricating humour and a bit of glitz and glamour for the audience really so vulgar? And isn't labelling the hundreds of thousands of viewers who watch the programme a 'tasteless herd' more than a little arrogant?

_____

Well, I'd say that one's open to debate, Erki. To me he seems to be missing the point entirely. How many countries can you name where the national broadcaster's role is to provide tabloid-style entertainment to the masses? Surely that's the job of the commercial channels. Fair enough, many of the programmes ETV shows wouldn't rate high on the excitement scale, but at the same time a lot of what they broadcast is thoughtful and topical stuff.

You only have to look at the kind of things Kanals 2 and 3 churn out, both imported and home-grown, to see the kind of audience they're aiming for. And the fact that they're winning it is reason enough for ETV to eschew such programming, if you ask me. It's telling and ironic in turns that the highest rated programme broadcast by ETV each year is usually the Estonian national final for the Eurovision Song Contest, if not Eurovision itself.

Perhaps our Erki - flag waver as he is for all things Estonian, as well as for the nationalist Pro Patria party - wants ETV to be a ratings success, full of programmes like Dancing With The Stars and Pop Idol, for the good of its image and reputation. Personally, I feel the fact that it is a little more cerebral than its terrestrial competition is something it should cling on to for dear life.

Besides, I can't shake off the feeling that Erki's simply smarting from the national broadcaster taking a pop at the banality of a programme he himself took part in last year (i.e. Dancing With The Stars, not Pop Idol). Wounded pride, anyone?

http://www.postimees.ee/251007/esileht/arvamus/291432.php

Living on the gluten & wheat free sundried tomato & basil ciabatta line

Bespectacled Bank of Estonia boss Andres Lipstok, who is currently said to scrape by on little more than 100,000 kroons per month, has endeared himself to the public by claiming that he could quite happily live on 5000 kroons every four weeks, before tax.

In a Q&A with Eesti Päevaleht, Lipstok - who recently made headlines for discouraging people to ask for a pay rise in conditions of runaway inflation - poo-pooed ideas that a man in his position would struggle if his salary were cut by 95%. “Of course I would get by,” he said. “A lot of people in Estonia make do with 5000 kroons.”

While predicting that the average salary in Estonia would catch up to Western levels (roughly 1000 euros per month) by 2010, Lipstok nevertheless warned against it rising too high too quickly. This could hinder the creation of new jobs, he said, and lead to higher unemployment. Nor does he think that basing the minimum wage on the average salary would be good for society: “Because then it wouldn't have anything to do with performance results,” he explained.

What kind of performance do you have to give, though, to earn ten times the average salary?

Where there's smoke...

I came across a news item on Delfi today that I actually thought must have been a joke. Rather pathetically, it was in earnest.

Tomorrow sees the launch in schools throughout Estonia of the 6th annual Smoke-Free Class competition, in which students and teachers are required to give up smoking for a period of six months in order to be in the running for an all-expenses paid class trip abroad. All very laudable, you might be thinking, as was I at first - until I read that the competition is aimed at students as young as 11.

Now I may be naive, but how many chain-smoking Year 4 students do you know? Health experts claim that there is a serious problem in Estonia with underage tobacco [ab]use, and I can believe it, or at least would if such campaigns were aimed at those, say, 15 and up. But to include those barely into double figures seems a bit over the top for a project that is more cure than prevention. Teachers have expressed their own doubts, concerned that the competition may have the opposite effect to that intended among younger students: arousing their interesting in smoking rather than nipping it in the bud.

Whether or not I am naive, I am definitely a cynic, and had to laugh at the fact that the competition is based entirely on a trust system where participating students sign a class contract promising not to smoke at all during the six-month period. I mean by and large we're talking about teenage boys and girls at their most pliable and irritatingly insubordinate to whom responsibility and maturity are foreign concepts. Entrusting them with anything is risible.

Moreover, where does the lucky class get a free trip to at the end of it all? Amsterdam. Can no one see the irony here? It would be like running an Alcohol-Free Class competition and sending the winners to Oktoberfest.

I'm not intolerant...

A study commissioned by the Ministry of Justice has revealed that Estonian-speakers are more racist than Russian-speakers, but that Russian-speakers are less tolerant of minorities.

The survey, in which respondents were asked the questions "What kind of immigrants would you not want to work with?" and "What kind of people would you not want to work with?", saw Estonian-speakers outscoring their Russian-speaking countrymen across the board in terms of nationalities and religious groups they would rather not touch with a bargepole, but Russian-speakers being at times markedly more discriminatory when it came to 'social backgrounds'.

While it should be pointed out that at least half of those interviewed in both language groups said they would have no problems working with anyone regardless of their nationality or religion, it was the Estonian-speakers who displayed a much more noticeable reticence to have any dealings with Russians, Finns, Jews, Muslims, Blacks and Eastern Europeans. On the other hand, Russian-speakers were more illiberal when faced with Gays, Prostitutes, Criminals, Drug Addicts, HIV/AIDS Sufferers and the Disabled. Significantly more Estonian-speakers had no misgivings about such people, although in both language groups the overall percentage of the charitable was depressingly low.

Not that you have to look very far for reasons why: Estonian-speakers are generally against outsiders because they've been sat on by them for thousands of years, while Russian-speakers are more critical on 'moral' grounds because of their stronger religious roots. Everything else is likely the product of being a small country where many of these things are rarely seen or spoken about that was once part of a much larger system where such things were taboo, hushed up and/or punishable under the law.

To what end the study was commissioned nobody seems to know, but there you are.

There's no such thing as a free (school) lunch

A story with an actual Australian-Estonian connection made it into the press earlier in the week (yes, I know I'm playing catch-up here) with the news that Estonia may consider adopting the Australian system of higher education payments.

For those who aren't aware of how this works, and assuming nothing has changed since I went to uni - any Australians reading this feel free to correct me if I'm wrong - the system, called HECS or the Higher Education Contribution Scheme, basically means you don't have to pay for your university studies until you can afford to. Which is to say you still have to pay for some of your fees, but the majority is covered by the government until such a time as you can afford to pay it back.

There is one great benefit to this system for someone like me, who pretty much left Australia as soon as I graduated with my degree: having never since worked in the country for long enough to earn more than the however-many-thousands-of-dollar limit requiring you to start repaying your HECS debt, I have not to date had to pay a cent for my education. Presumably though for other ordinary people still living and working in Australia it all works quite conveniently and much like any other kind of loan repayment.

The call for change in Estonia has come about [not only because the increased level of affluence means that more people can probably afford to pay for their own educations anyway but also] because currently there is a perceived inequality in the fact that some students pay nothing for higher education while others do. But the arguments for and against are many, and much the same as those raised in Australia prior to the introduction of HECS.

Former Dean of the University of Tartu, one-time candidate for Estonian President and current Minister of Defence Jaak Aaviksoo warns that despite the generally positive reactions to the potential introduction of the Australian system, any such change would be a hugely sensitive political issue. He also spoke for many in pointing out that "Anyone who doesn't have to pay for their education at the moment is hardly likely to want to in future".

Tõnis Lukas, Minister for Education, while not necessarily against the plan, sees things differently. He says that in a country like Estonia, which hardly has the biggest population in the world and where the number of university students is steadily dropping (due to decreases in birth rates and such, not because they can't be arsed) (presumably), it is equally possible that the government will end up paying everyone's fees rather than demanding that everyone pay them themselves.

Which, I have been told, is what they do in Finland. (Any Finns reading this feel free to correct me blah blah.) It would be nice to see Estonia transform into an educational utopia, but in the meantime it is just as nice to see that something pioneered in Australia has become the model that up-and-at-'em nations are looking to adopt.

Travel broadens the mind

In the latest Muusa, the editorial team put a set of questions to the writers contributing to the issue. One of them (the questions) was 'Reason to leave Estonia?'. One of them (the writers) responded in a way that very neatly encapsulated my own thoughts on why anyone would and indeed should leave their country and see a bit of the world. Coincidentally, the writer in question*, Merit Raju, has just moved to Australia. This is what she said:

Tunda, et elad. Kasvada suuremaks, õppida targemaks, avardada oma taluvuse, mõistmise, oskuste, teadmiste, võimete, tutvusringkonna ja maitsete piiri, vaadata kaugemalt ning mõista, mis ja kes on olulised ja kes sa ise oled.

To feel that you're alive. To grow bigger, to grow wiser, to push the limits of your tolerance, your understanding, your skills, your knowledge, your abilities, your circle of acquaintances and your tastes, to see further and to appreciate who and what is important and who you are.

(At the same time, when asked 'Reason to stay in Estonia?' she said, a little harshly but probably quite rightly, that Estonia is the right place for Estonians - it is a "cold country with cold people".)

http://www.muusa.eu/

*no pun intended

Knock the f***ing thing down

City Hall has announced plans to erect its new, er, city hall on the site of a petrol station next to the Soviet monstrosity that is Linnahall (which, confusingly, also translates as 'city hall'). But I have a better idea: why not demolish Linnahall and stick it there? All it attracts is Russian 'stars' and drunk teenagers. And develop a proper foreshore while you're at it: it's the obvious site to open the city up to the bay. Surely one of the development companies that's in bed with City Hall could make something of it?

The Others

With all the bluster about integration of late, the debate about what to call Estonia's minorities has reared its ugly head once again. Commonly (although not officially) (and relatively neutrally) (if not altogether flatteringly) referred to as muulased or 'others', a new name is being sought for the nation's more modestly represented residents.

Urve Palo, Minister for Population Affairs, has declared that any word to describe non-Estonians must unite the peoples of the country, and therefore cannot include either negatives or anything in the way of “us and them” (ergo ruling out 'non-Estonians'). It must also be a word that is comprehensible to both the Estonian majority and the country's minorities - of which, the authorities are always quick to boast, there are more than 120.

Let's take a moment then to look at the figures. Estonians make up 68.6% of the national population, with the remaining 31.4% coming from other backgrounds. Of these, the majority are Russians (25.7%), with potentially Russian-speaking Ukrainians and Belarussians accounting for a further 3.3% between them. Finns come in fourth with 0.8%, leaving just 1.6% of the population - approximately 22,400 people - to claim the other 116 or so nationalities, producing an average of 193 people per minority.* And there endeth the lesson.

It's interesting to note, as an aside, that while 68.6% of the population define themselves as Estonians, only 67.2% claim Estonian as their mother tongue. It may be as much for this reason as the fact that not all Russians speak Russian (etc) that most sociologists and other assorted experts are calling for the replacement term to make no reference to nationality or language, although some feel that maintaining a sense of both identities - for example, 'Estonian Lithuanians' - is important in avoiding a sense of forced assimilation.

Others in turn fail to see the neutrality in labelling minorities as 'others'. Jevgenia Haponen from the Russian Cultural Association (herself bearing a Finnish surname) is resolutely against the use of the term from a philological point of view, considering it insulting and claiming that it renders those so labelled “second class and less important”. Former First Lady and folklorist Ingrid Rüütel, meanwhile, feels that 'Estonian national minorities' couldn't possibly insult anyone. “Mind you,” she adds, “the Russians in Ida-Viru county are the vast majority, aren't they.”

It is unlikely to surprise anyone that the Estonian government has taken no position on the matter. The subject has never even been up for discussion... until now, with a solution to the problem needing to be found as part of the development of the 2008-2013 integration programme.

An Eesti Päevaleht poll conducted earlier in the week to elicit suggestions for replacement terms was described by Prime Minister Andrus Ansip as 'praiseworthy' (which indeed it was, once they filtered out all the slander). Bit of an indictment that the initiative had to come from a daily newspaper though. The following is a selection of some of the more amusing alternatives offered by man-in-the-street and experts alike. Bear with me, as translating them is awkward.

•• Hallipassimehed or 'Grey Passporters' (from the fact that approximately 10% of Estonian residents have no citizenship and are issued with grey 'Stateless Citizen' passports)

•• Kasumaalased or 'Stepcitizens'
•• Lisaeestlased or 'Extra Estonians'
•• Mujaltlased/Mujakad or '(From) Elsewherers'

As I myself fall into the category of muulased, I ought to feel more strongly about the issue than I do, and if I had to pick anything I would go for Uuseestlased or 'New Estonians'. Seems to me though that however innocuous the name chosen, you're still pigeonholing people when you're meant to be integrating them.

http://www.epl.ee/uudised/403595

*But if there are 193 Australians in Estonia I'll eat my hat.

Bread week

This week in Estonia is Bread Week (commonly referred to as Leivanädal). Bread is a big thing in Estonia: it comes in all shapes and sizes, all with different names, and many with ingredients that your average Westerner would baulk at. I, however, am a convert, and would never go back to white bread now.

You see, I have discovered the joys of rye bread, which the uninitiated might refer to as 'black bread', and which is coincidentally the focus of Bread Week this year. (2007 also being the Year of Rye Bread.) It's not for everyone, but most sceptics are usually won over by the local take on garlic bread. Try it and see.

The programme for Bread Week, which has been put together by the Estonian Association of Bakers and the Ministry of Agriculture, would put professional party planners to shame, with schools and community groups up and down the country celebrating the staple food in ways few others would probably find exciting (or necessary, but that is of course what makes it, and Estonia, so charming).

The annual ceremony has already been held at Kadriorg Palace handing over the traditional Fresh Loaf to the presidential pair, and as the patron of the EAB's special School Bread project, the First Lady has also been busy with the launch of an exclusive new loaf designed especially for the country's school children.

"A professional selection panel put together a shortlist of the most healthy types of bread that are currently being baked, and they were voted on by the pupils themselves," Madam Ilves explained. "The children have even designed the packaging. It's made all the more exciting for them by the fact that the bread won't be available in stores!"

Bread Week will culminate in Bread Day this Sunday at the Rocca Al Mare Open Air Museum in Tallinn, where visitors can learn all about the history of bread making, sample the country's finest bready comestibles and enjoy concerts by bread enthusiasts from all over Estonia.

Do the bus shop

Seems some of the country's buses are worthy of praise after all. The Arter insert in Postimees last weekend had a story in it that came across as so quintessentially Estonian, without actually probably being quintessentially Estonian at all, that I just had to report it.

There is a little bus that travels around the backwaters of rural Estonia which is in fact a shop. It looks like this:

Not little at all then, I suppose. But isn't it a great idea? I think it is. If I lived somewhere where they didn't even have sealed roads (apart from Tallinn, I mean) I'd love to have a shop on wheels stop outside my front door. Mind you, I'm too much of a city boy to ever live anywhere like that.

Nice to know that services like this are still available* in a country where I wouldn't have thought anywhere apart perhaps from Ruhnu and Kihnu (the two blink-and-you'll-miss-'em islands in the Gulf of Riga) was more than about half an hour's drive from a halfway decent supermarket these days.

*or rather available again now - clink on the link below if you want to read the story and find out the details... if you understand Estonian

http://www.postimees.ee/061007/lisad/arter/287449_foto3.php#33

The sex lives of Estonians

A sex survey carried out by men's magazine FHM and reported on by SL Õhtuleht has revealed some interesting statistics about Estonians.

As might be expected of a tabloid newspaper, Õhtuleht chose to lead with the shocking fact that "almost half of all Estonian men would be willing to try sex with another man". Other interesting tidbits the survey threw up were that the average age at which men and women - or rather boys and girls - in the country lose their virginity is all of 14, but that they only have 4 sex partners during their lives. (Starting so early clearly doesn't inspire them.) (Either that or they value monogamy from a very early age.)

A total of 1334 Estonians took part in the worldwide survey - a perfectly representative 1/1000th of the population.

http://www.sloleht.ee/index.aspx?id=248819

You wait half an hour for a bus...

Someone from Eesti Päevaleht Online with a video camera has been asking Joe Public what he thinks of the city's public transport. Turns out that apart from one young mother who only hopped on a bus to satisfy her tiddlywink's curiosity and a couple of people who end with "...but things seem to be improving", almost everyone has the same complaints.

1. They smell.

It's not very charitable to say so, but boy are there some stinky people in Tallinn: either the great unwashed or the homeless, often with the added pleasure of their bags full of empty beer cans as they head for the recycling points to claim their 50 cent refunds. The heady mix of dirty bodies, dank clothes and all manner of odours emitting from them does not a pleasant environment make on the city's buses, trams and trolleys when, in the case of the latter two especially...

2. They're dirty.

But then I suppose dirty people lead to dirty buses and what not. It doesn't help that the majority of them were made in the heyday of Soviet production when 'Made In Czechoslovakia' was still being stamped on everything. The trolleybuses come in for particular criticism on this count (except the snazzy new ones). It's the kind of thing where I always wash my hands as soon as possible after riding in them - even if it's the middle of winter and I was wearing gloves the whole time.

3. They're often late.

Or indeed early, as I keep finding with bus no. 8 now that they've changed the timetable but seem to have forgotten to inform the drivers. Sod's law though: on the days I set out earlier for the bus stop in case they do come early, they turn up 5 minutes after they're meant to.

4. They're always full.

Not that there's much you can do about it, I suppose. But in combination with the other three above, it does get to a straw-that-broke-the-camel's back kind of point. You've been waiting for ages for the thing, probably in the cold and drizzle, and when it turns up it looks like it hasn't seen a cleaner in years, everyone is packed in like sardines, many of them smell like they are sardines, and the man you're squashed up against has the worst case of dandruff you've ever seen. Which flakes off his scalp in your direction every time the doors open.

I would probably also add to the list that 5. the tickets, for what you get, are overpriced to buggery. I baulk at the €2 you pay to hop on one of Helsinki's trams, but given how efficient, comfortable and sparkly they are, the fact that the ticket is only twice as expensive as a trip on one of Tallinn's rusting 1960s trolleys is a small price to pay.

http://www.epl.ee/video/402794

Copperart

No, not a post about the sadly now defunct (?) Australian homeware store, but about Kumu, the new main building of the Art Museum of Estonia.

After decrying the state of architecture in this country I thought I should redress the balance a little by pointing out how wonderful Kumu is, inside and out. It just received another award of some sort, this time from the Copper Development Association in the UK, which doesn't sound all that exciting, but I'm sure they deserved it.

This is what Kumu looks like at the moment:

And here's what it will hopefully look like in a few months' time:

And this is what it looks like when you go in the front door, regardless of the season:

I'm not much of a museum/art gallery person usually, but Kumu is great. A lot of the stuff I can take or leave, but there are a handful of paintings and sculptures I really love, and one installation in particular that is fascinating. Plus you won't pay over the odds to get in and see it all, they have a great shop and the food in the cafe is fantastic. And you can get there by walking through the city's prettiest park, Kadriorg. What more could you want?

Hoist by their own petard?

This week's integration study has revealed that educated young Russian speakers who also speak Estonian are the labour market equivalent of hot cakes.

The study has shown that those with the best language skills are tertiary educated Russian speakers up to the age of 29 who have Estonian citizenship. Moreover, 70% of all Russian speakers in this age bracket who were surveyed could speak Estonian, compared to the 37% of Estonians in the same age group who had a handle on Russian.

"Young Russian speakers are in a better position," said sociologist and study author Iris Pettai. "Knowing both languages is a significant springboard for them." They make particularly good tellers, she remarked.

"The position of Estonian Russians is continually improving while the position of Estonian speakers grows steadily worse. Skills in several language give you an important head start in a country where Russian speakers make up a third of the population."

How long will it be, do you think, before Estonians stop complaining about Russians not learning their language and start complaining about the fact that they are? It will be ironic if they end up disenfranchising themselves in the name of integration.

Touching a nerve

Estonia has come in for a bit of criticism from people in high places of late and it seems the natives don't like it. After a good two weeks of being slapped on the wrist, Ingvar Bärenklau spoke out on behalf of the people of his besieged nation yesterday in a front page piece that saw the ordinarily temperate Postimees abandoning all pretence of objective journalism.

In an article entitled Three foreign integration experts teach the government how to get on with Russians, Bärenklau states: "Although the West has never seriously reproached Estonia at the political level for its citizenship and minority policies, envoys from international organisations are bombarding the country with peremptory recommendations for the simplification of its citizenship procedures."

He then adds: "A fortnight ago the Council of Europe's Parliamentary Assembly president René van der Linden riled the public with his Kremlin-minded rhetoric, while last week the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had to listen to the views of sour-faced Senegalese UN Special Rapporteur Doudou Diène on the need for a transition to a multicultural society, which inevitably brings with it the instatement of Russian as a national language."

Bärenklau goes on, highlighting the patently ridiculous recommendations made this week by Thomas Hammarberg, the current Commissioner for Human Rights in Strasbourg, that Estonia should stop requiring Russian-speaking pensioners to take citizenship exams and should grant automatic citizenship to babies born in the country to non-citizens.

I particularly like the undemonstrative use of the term 'sour-faced' in relation to our Doudou. Bärenklau's below-the-belt approach is not uncommon though in the light of all this criticism: similar articles have been appearing all over the place. An editorial on Delfi summarised the barrage of fire the country has come under thus: "You nasty little Estonians, you treat the Russians very shabbily. You have to make concessions to them, and lots of them, and right now"!

It's clearly not just the journalists who think these foreign smartarses should take their precious advice and shove it, though: a Gallup poll conducted on behalf of Postimees yesterday revealed that 80.01% of respondents feel their recommendations shouldn't be taken into account because "they don't know what they're talking about".

Awkward situation; that goes without saying. But as someone once put it, giving the newly first-class majority the right to dictate the terms on which the fallen second-class minority can be seen to be equal is like giving the family of a murder victim the right to commute the killer's death sentence to life imprisonment: either way they're still not going anywhere, and as long as there is resentment, there will always be stigma.

http://www.postimees.ee/031007/esileht/siseuudised/286932.php

http://www.delfi.ee/archive/article.php?id=17065166&categoryID=9738762&ndate=1191358800

Знать эстонский, оставаться русским, чувствовать себя домa

The Ministry of Education (and Research, not that they clearly did any in terms of marketing in this case) has come in for some well-deserved lampooning for the TV ad they have produced to air on Estonia's one and only channel designed for the Russian-speaking population to promote the transition in Russian-language schools to studies in Estonian.

The clip is just an embarrassment to watch. You don't even need to understand what they're saying to appreciate how lame it is. The slogan for the campaign, which forms the title of this post, means 'learn Estonian, stay Russian, feel at home' - a laudable idea in itself, but the execution... Click on the link below.

http://www.hm.ee/index.php?popup=download&id=6243

When push comes to shove

An amusing opinion piece written (or at least edited) by Haldi Ellam (and suitably pared down and spiced up by yours truly) on Eesti Päevaleht Offline the other day looks at yet another endearing quirk of the Estonian personality...

Shy and retiring creatures that they are, the people of Estonia would rather say nothing at all when in public than have to communicate with one another.

Whenever I hop on public transport during rush hour I know it's fairly likely that someone will breach my personal space to squeeze past me in their desperate attempt to get out of the vacuum-sealed vehicle. I understand the fact that they want to get off, but what I fail to grasp is why they cannot tell me this, simply and politely. Instead they're happy to steamroller me out of existence just as long as they don't miss their stop.

Seems being polite is not really something we do here in Estonia. It's such an ingrained way of behaviour that it's hard to imagine my life any other way. Perhaps the European Union could fund some classes for us in good manners? After all, I was the same until one day I learned my lesson... in France.

I was out shopping with a friend - a proper French friend - when she berated me for the fact that I was shoving past people without muttering any kind of apology as I did so. She pointed out that it's not that big a deal to highlight the fact you're trying to get past someone. And she was right: a simple “Excuse me!” is not asking much of anyone, and it certainly stops you getting on people's nerves.

So why do the people in Estonia behave the way they do? Is it some kind of Soviet legacy? Were we all brought up wrong? Or is it Scandinavian reserve, nouveau riche arrogance, deliberate provocation or simply that we just don't care?

I don't know, Haldi, but it sure gets on my nerves. If someone holds a door open for you and you walk through it without saying a word, that doesn't make you endearing: it makes you an arsehole.

http://www.epl.ee/artikkel/402013

You get what you pay for

A survey of 29 European countries has somehow decided that Estonia has the best health care system on the continent. At least, reveals the Health Insurance Fund, in price/quality terms.

The country has improved on its runner-up position from 2006, overtaking Slovenia, who it seems has fallen away to buggery, and beating Austria and the Netherlands into the silver and bronze medal positions respectively.

“The thorough and rapid changes we implemented at the start of the 1990s have served us well,” remarked Haigekassa Chairman Hannes Danilov. He seems not to have grasped the implications of the survey results, however, in adding: “If we maintain the course we are following, we will soon be on a par with Europe's best health care systems.”

I oughtn't to make fun though, since they removed my gall bladder free of charge. Makes we wonder how the price/quality ratio works though: if you don't actually pay anything for the medical services you receive, what kind of quality can you expect? If it's all free, surely it would be churlish to complain even if it wasn't up to scratch.