Putting the 'hospital' in 'hospitality'

I had the misfortune on Friday evening of requiring tests and a procedure at the Eastern Tallinn Central Hospital to diagnose a mysterious illness I have been suffering from for several weeks now. Since I had stupidly forgotten to bring the doctor's referral in my rush to get there and get whatever it was sorted out - but hoped, based on an article I translated some weeks ago about the online advances in the Haigekassa, the Estonian version on the NHS, that the doctor's notes would already be recorded somewhere in the system - I then had the even greater misfortune of dealing with the head nurse on duty.

I never caught her name; she never offered it, and I never got to look at her badge, as I was having enough of a struggle even making eye contact with her. She was one of these people who looks everywhere but at the person she is talking to, or rather bickering with, and seemed fascinated by the peeling paintwork of the door frame. Our conversation ran something like what follows - and I might just point out that nothing I said was inaccurate, and nothing more than what I said was included on the doctor's referral, apart perhaps from the reference numbers et al. The cast of characters is Me, Bitch Nurse and Fat Girl at Desk.


Fat Girl at Desk: Next.

I hand over my national identity card, which she takes with fat fingers and looks at uninterestedly.

Me: Hello. I've been referred here by my GP for blood tests and colonic irrigation.
Fat Girl at Desk: Where's your referral?
Me: Unfortunately in my hurry I left it at home. Are the details not available on your system?

Small eyes roll up in her pudgy face to look at me as though I have suggested the most idiotic thing in the world.

Fat Girl at Desk: No.

She taps her well-chewed fingernails on the desk for a moment before sighing exaggeratedly and hoisting herself out of the seat. She waddles into a walled-off back section of the office and consults who will turn out to be the head nurse on duty in a voice just loud enough to be made out as they come back into the room.

Fat Girl at Desk: ...some foreigner... No, he speaks Estonian. That's him.

The head nurse comes to the door of the office and starts not looking at me, while addressing me like a halfwit for the entire duration of the conversation that ensues.

Bitch Nurse: What's your problem?
Me: I was referred here immediately by my GP for blood tests and colonic irrigation.
Bitch Nurse: Why don't you have a referral?
Me: I do, but in my rush to get here I must have left it at home. Is there no way of admitting me without it?
Bitch Nurse: I hardly think so. We don't just admit anyone. Why do you need blood tests if you have stomach problems?
Me: The doctor thinks the stomach problems are related to the other illness I have, which no one has been able to identify so far. But it's not a bacterial infection.
Bitch Nurse: So why didn't she do the blood tests herself? That's her job.
Me: She referred me here as a matter of urgency, and instructed me to ask you to run blood tests -
Bitch Nurse: No one instructs us to do anything.
Me: Well, not 'instruct' then -
Bitch Nurse: What's wrong with you anyway? Do you have stomach pains?
Me: Well, no, but -
Bitch Nurse: So why do you need colonic irrigation? Have you tried suppositories? Why don't you just sit on the toilet?
Me: I have tried suppositories, but I still haven't been able to go to the toilet for six days. The doctor said -
Bitch Nurse: The doctor could have said anything. Without a referral we only have what you are telling us.
Me: Well, I'm telling the truth.
Bitch Nurse: And what's this other problem you have?
Me: I don't know. The GP doesn't know. Nobody knows. That's why she sent me here for blood tests.
Bitch Nurse: She has no right to send you here for blood tests she could very well do herself.
Me: OK, but she said the results couldn't wait till Monday, and that since I would have to come here for the colonic irrigation anyw-
Bitch Nurse: It's all academic. Without the referral we can't do anything for you. Don't you have someone who can collect it for you?
Me: Er... possibly.
Bitch Nurse: Well if you don't you'll just have to go and get it yourself. We can't do anything until we know what the doctor thinks your problem is.
Me: She doesn't know what the problem is. That's why she recommended blood tests.
Bitch Nurse: So why is she so sure you need colonic irrigation?
Me: Because I haven't been to the toilet for almost a week and there is a large fecal impaction lodged in my rectum.

And on we went for several more minutes, round and round, as I grew sweatier and sweatier from my self-evident fever, until eventually she grew tired of listening to my stupid foreigner's spiel and closed with:

Bitch Nurse: Bring us the referral and we can help you. Without it I'm not prepared to take your word for it. We don't work like that here. We can't just take in people claiming to be sick, you know. We're a busy hospital.

Good to know my contributions to Social Security Tax in Estonia are being put to such good use. If you were wondering, I was eventually admitted, tested and treated. The verdict? "You have a virus."

The name's Who. Doctor Who.

Doctor Who

ABC, 7.30 pm, Saturday 4 August

Military prostitution

An opinion piece by Edgar Velbri, 'libertarian socialist', appeared on Delfi today questioning the reasoning behind Estonia's involvement in other people's wars. It makes several good points, not the least of which being that the people in Afghanistan and Iraq (in particular) are arguably worse off these days than they were before The West decided they needed rescuing. The column ends with this rather pithy paragraph:

"Ma ei ole kuulnud mitte ühtegi mõjuvat ja arvestatavat põhjust, miks me peaksime nendest sõdadest osa võtma ning pakkuma USA-le oma poliitilist ning sõjalist toetust ilma küsimusi esitamata. Ma ei ole kuulnud mitte ühtegi arvestatavat põhjust, miks me peaksime müüma ennast nagu poliitilist libu. Ilmselt on asi selles, et seda põhjust ei olegi."

__________

"I have yet to hear a single convincing argument for our involvement in these wars and for offering the United States our political and military support, no questions asked. I have yet to hear a single convincing argument why we should be selling ourselves like some political whore. Patently because no such argument exists."

Other than the fact, of course, that now Estonia is playing in the same backyard as the big boys, it is desperate to impress them. Besides, it's not like it isn't a mutually beneficial arrangement: there are rumours that Estonians may finally be able to travel to America without a visa... within a year! Maybe.

http://www.delfi.ee/news/paevauudised/arvamus/article.php?id=16517942

Cheap at half the price

The Australian Embassy in Berlin (seemingly the only one left on the continent that issues visas) announced on the quiet more than a week ago that citizens of Estonia - and indeed the rest of the EU - no longer need to pay for the issue of an electronic visa to enter Australia for up to three months. Who knew?

You too can look this pretty

Doctor Who

ABC, 7.30 pm, Saturday 28 July

Mariza

I have just watched the DVD of Mariza's Concerto em Lisboa, given to me as a birthday present. Mariza is a Portuguese fado singer. I saw her in concert here in Tallinn last year after she was recommended to me by a friend, and I was blown away.

For anyone who has never heard of Mariza, let alone heard any of her music or seen or heard her live on stage, let me just say that this is what music is meant to be about. I had never been truly moved by music or the power of the voice until I heard Mariza, and by the time the last couple of numbers came around on this DVD I was in tears. People who know me will be aware that this is not something I tend to do: that is how powerful Mariza's music and performance is. You don't have to understand a word of Portuguese to get it. It just hits you.

<-- If you see this DVD in the World Music section of your local HMV, buy it at once. In fact, if you come across any of her CDs or DVDs, buy them. If you flip over to SBS or whatever your country's equivalent of the cultural TV channel is and one of her performances is on, drop the remote control. And if you stumble across an ad for one of her concerts, book tickets. I can't recommend her highly enough.

Here's a YouTube link to the closing number from the concert, Gente de Minha Terra: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeOhPR_0x8E.

They work hard for the money

A report issued on Thursday by the European Foundation for the Improvement of Living and Working Conditions, known to its friends as Eurofound, has revealed that Estonia is the hardest working country in the European Union.

Based on the total number of days’ leave workers are offered from country to country, including public holidays, the report, er, reported that Estonians enjoy just 26, in contrast to union leaders Sweden (yet again) with 42. I'm not quite sure how this works, since we get 28 days' paid holidays per year here, and while there aren't all that many public holidays, there are still enough to push the overall number well up into the 30s. Perhaps it means that most Estonians don't take all of the holidays owed to them and work some public holidays too? If that's the case, it is admirably enterprising of them.

The report (which, appropriately enough, was issued from Ireland, crowned the hardest working of the 'old' EU member states) also saw Estonia debut with a bullet at number one in the chart of the number of hours worked annually. With an average of 1872, Estonia came in 304 hours ahead of bottom-of-the-table France - meaning that workahoolikud eestlased put in roughly 8 working weeks more every year than their vin-quaffing French colleagues.

The question you have to ask yourself at this point is: what have they got to show for it? According to its website, "The European Foundation for the Improvement of Living and Working Conditions is a tripartite EU body, whose role is to provide key actors in social policy making with findings, knowledge and advice drawn from comparative research."* I wonder if they compared the fact that Estonia is the hardest working country in the EU with the fact that it is also the most miserable and apparently also the one in which people are most likely to meet a violent end - completely indisputable facts also revealed in the last week or two - and drew any interesting conclusions to share with these key actors they are accountable to.

*For the grammar nazis among us, note the redundant use of the comma after 'body'.

Tolerance has two faces

This in response to a well-balanced opinion piece by Anu Aaremäe in Eesti Ekspress entitled "Kas kitsarinnalisuse vastu on pilli?" / "Is there something you can take for narrow-mindedness?" (Text in Estonian accompanied by my translation.)

Piip said:

Hetkel eestis valitsev tolerants on näiline - homo olla on OK nii kaua, kui nad sellest ise ei räägi. Ehk ole, aga varja, siis ma sind armastan.

Paraadide mõte on neid arvamusi murda - öelda, et homol on õigus tänaval kõndida ka siis, kui sulle-mulle-teistele ei jäeta illusiooni nende "mitte-homoks" olemisest.

Ja mina näiteks lähen koos nendega kõndima. Sest ka mul, linnakodanikul, on õigus käia tänaval ka siis, kui minu kõrval kõnnib end mittevarjav homo. Sest praegu, kas tead, mul ei ole seda õigust - arvestades möödunud aastal lennanud kive, mune, sõimu. Ja neid kommentaaregi, mis iga sellise artikli alla tulevad.

Mina seisan selle eest, et minu lapsed kasvaks üles teadmises, et võrdsus väärib võitlemist. Vabadusel ei saa olla piiranguid ühe või teise grupi suhtes lihtsalt seetõttu, et sinul isiklikult on neid raske mõista. Alati leidub keegi, kes sind ennast ei mõista - ja ühel päeval, kui homod, venelased, moslemid ja kõik teised vähemusgrupid on maatasa tehtud, jääd sina neile hambu. Mõtle sellele.

Maailm peab olema mitmekesine - ja ei ole nii, et kui ma üht asja ei toeta, peaks kohe vastu olema. Ma ei pea olema homo, et toetada kellegi teise õigust olla homo ilma, et ta pidevalt oma elu ja närvide pärast kartma peaks.

_____

What tolerance there is in Estonia these days is superficial – it's OK to be gay as long as you don't tell us you are. That is, be gay, but don't show it, and I'll accept you with open arms.

The point of the parade is to break people out of these ways of thinking – to say that a gay person has the right to walk down the street even if the illusion of their 'non-gayness' is shattered for you and me and everyone else.

I for one will be joining the parade. Because I have the right to walk down the street too when someone who is not afraid to show that they are gay is walking beside me. Because at the moment I don't have that right, given the stones and eggs and insults hurled last year. And the comments that are posted under any article that has anything to do with it.

I want my children to grow up in the knowledge that equality is something you should fight for. You can't restrict one or another group's freedom simply because you don't get them. There will always be someone who doesn't understand you – and one day, when all of the gays, and the Russians, and the moslems, and all the other minorities are dead and buried, you'll get yours. Think about it.

The world has to be a diverse place – and if I don't support something, it doesn't mean I'm necessarily against it. I don't have to be gay to support someone else's right to be gay without having to constantly fear for his life and sanity.

I wonder if that's the majority view. I certainly hope it is. You only ever hear the voices that shout loudest, but at least Piip is living proof that there are people in Estonia who perceive individual freedom for what it is and not as a threat.

On a whim and a prayer

I met up with a guy yesterday who is about to embark on a year-long trip to Australia and was seeking a bit of advice. He'd heard from some Estonian acquaintances in Brisbane that Australia wasn't all it was cracked up to be*, so I imagine he was also seeking some reassurance. I championed my homeland to the best of my abilities, which are pretty limited, since he kept asking questions that ended in the words "these days", and since I haven't lived there permanently for the best part of seven years, I really have no idea. He nevertheless seemed buoyed by what I had to say, so the spin I put on it must have been positive enough.

The course of our conversation inevitably led to him asking me why I had come to Estonia, which is still a question I don't have a satisfying response to. You'd think I would seven years after first getting here, but I don't. I admire this guy - Jarkko is his name - for the preparation he is putting in to ensure that everything works out for him, at least in terms of getting himself set up, but it made me realise again how random my decision to come to Estonia was, and how lucky you can sometimes be when a whim pans out.

I've always been a firm believer that things will tend to work out the way you want them to, or at least that things will go as they go and there's not much you can do about it, apart from engineer them. That probably sounds paradoxical and naive by turns, but I don't know how else to express it. When I decided to leave Italy I could have ended up anywhere, but I chose Estonia. I wouldn't go so far as to say it chose me, but whatever the reasons were that I had for coming here - and I honestly can't remember what they were now; a vague interest in the language and a job offer, more or less - it certainly ended up being the right choice.

It could very easily have been the wrong one, I suppose, and in my first month here I did wonder if I'd selected too hastily. But you make your own luck, I think, and from the moment I consciously decided to invest myself in the place I haven't looked back. In that sense I suppose the outlook is good for Jarkko - he's been investing himself in his trip to Australia for quite some time already, and he's not even there yet. He's also very level-headed about the whole thing and not going into it with the bar raised too high, which his friends seem to have done. He'll just take things as they come, rather like I did. I sincerely hope things works out as well for him as they have for me.

*They were shocked that you can't get by on just a T-shirt at night in the middle of winter, even in Australia.

Sad state

A recent study by the people at the Happy Planet Index has revealed, in the way that such things do, that Estonians are the most miserable people in Europe, and indeed the sixth most miserable country in the world out of the 178 canvassed. The rankings were based on the extent to which countries are able to ensure long and happy lives for their citizens, so it's no surprise to see that the top three is comprised exclusively of Scandinavia.

The criteria for the study were how satisfied people are with their lives, the average life expectancy in each country and how ecologically discreet they are. Someone called Nic Marks, who had a hand in organising the thing, is quoted as saying something along the lines that a country like Iceland, which sits proudly on top of the pile, is a shining example that human happiness doesn't have to cost the planet dear. He cited its strong combination of sociocentric legislation and wealth of green energy and pointed out that living an environmentally friendly life doesn't mean you can't live happily.

There's no arguing the fact that life in Iceland is pretty good, but neither can you ignore the fact that they live on what is in essence a volcanic blob: no wonder they enjoy energy sources that are so good for the planet. It couldn't come any more natural. Such criteria don't really explain either why a state like Luxembourg comes second last on the European list, only just ahead of Estonia. You can't imagine it will forever go down in history as The Duchy That Destroyed The World. I would have expected the average lifespan and how good life is there to be pretty high, but then perhaps living so comfortably is very boring, and that's why they're almost as unhappy as the Estonians are alleged to be. (But in that case, how did Switzerland make it into the top five? Are cow bells and Milka really enough for the Swiss?)

None of this will do the Estonians' reputation for being cold and standoffish any good, although it may at least give visitors a better understanding of why their waitress seems not to have encountered the concept of smiling: it's because she's struggling inside over the ecological mark her country will leave on the planet. It must also explain why the locals I met in Amsterdam over the weekend are chalk to her cheese - friendly, embracing and talkative: they realise that whatever they do, their country will eventually be reclaimed by the seas, and their slate will be wiped clean.

Thank goodness they issue these reports to enlighten us so.

Speaking of which...

Doctor Who
ABC, 7.30pm, Saturday 21 July

Does it get any better than this?

Doctor Who + Kylie Minogue :)

Maar voornamelijk bekend om het bier en de gezelligheid!

In a few hours I'm off to Amsterdam, where I'll be spending a few days with - variously -my brother Matt (who flew in from Sydney a couple of days ago), his flatmate Michelle (who is doing a six-month stint there with ING), my friend David (who has lived there for years and years), his partner Nico (who is Dutch) and my Finnish friend Anu (who got there a couple of days back too). All in aid of my 30th birthday this Sunday. Huzzah! God love decadent international get-togethers.

Would you believe...?

An article in today's Eesti Päevaleht reports that Estonia is one of only four countries in the world to receive full marks for religious freedom from the Hudson Institute in Washington (the others being fellow Christian club members Ireland, Hungary and - inevitably - the United States).

It makes you wonder what the criteria were. The US is well known as the birthplace of tele-Evangelism and for providing homes to one kooky cult after another, largely without rebuke, so you kind of get that. Ireland has a strong religious heritage. Don't know much about Hungary. But Estonia? The article cites the "strong linkage between levels of religious freedom and degree of economic freedom and enterprise" in its highest ranking countries, which would probably see Estonia qualify on those grounds alone.

But does absence of religion equate to freedom of religion? The article was accompanied by an illustration (pictured) underscoring the world's religious diversity, but I would posit that hardly any of them are represented in this country. Estonia has always seemed to me to be a deeply unreligious place, in the general meaning of the word. Religion seems to play a minor role in the lives of the great majority of the population. Yes, a brand new synagogue was recently opened, meaning the Jewish community are catered for, but that's about it.

Just because the media don't reflect it doesn't mean it isn't there, of course, and if Estonia really is as liberal towards people's beliefs as this report suggests it is, then that's great. I'm all for people believing whatever they want, so long as it doesn't impinge on anyone else. And apart from the Mormons stalking the streets, maybe that's what the other religious folk in the country think, too.

Doing the police's job for them

The organisers of this year's Gay Pride in Tallinn have allegedly been asked by the police to relocate their parade from the Old Town, citing the infringement of the civic rights of ordinary citizens it could lead to along its narrow, cobbled streets. Apparently they may be forced to squeeze into doorways or some such as the parade passes. It's not such a bad idea, frankly, as the winding, uneven alleys of the Old Town, as lovely as they are, don't really lend themselves to such an event.

However, the police's demands go further: they want assurances that the organisers of the parade are doing everything required of them to guarantee the safety of those involved. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it kind of suggests that none of the onus for protecting the people in the parade falls on the police. It also suggests that the police feel the organisers and the people in the parade are somehow responsible for the actions of those who actually put them at risk. And if they do, what does it say about the police? How many other cases do they approach with the 'victim as perpetrator' attitude?

You can understand their desire to avoid a repeat of the scenes the country witnessed during last year's parade (pictured), but making the GLBT community of Estonia scapegoats for their own persecution under the ironic pretext of securing other people's civil liberties is about as inappropriate as it comes.

We don't need another hero

After hundreds of drunken children were found stumbling around the Song Festival Grounds during the Õllesummer festival despite City Hall's crusade to save them from unethical traders, Jaanus Mutli has decided that it's all the organisers fault. "We did everything we could," he said*, "but it just wasn't enough. And now measures are going to have to be taken." And there is, of course, only one man to take them. Mutli outlined the uncompromising steps Tallinn is set to take to safeguard the future of its innocent and impressionable young citizens in a press release issued today: "The organisers are really going to have to think about setting an age limit in future."

This, needless to say, didn't sit well with the organisers, who, like I said, have been working hard to market the festival as more of a family event of late. However, their reaction was possibly not as helpful as it may have been, considering their alleged target audience. "It's nobody's fault but the parents'," declared festival director Marje Hansar. "They've obviously raised their children appallingly if they're letting them go about getting drunk. I can't be expected to take responsibility for them." She has a point, although blame in the first instance surely has to be laid at the feet of the kids themselves? Bugger not being responsible for their own actions in the eyes of the law.

Not that there's much point in playing the blame game, as our Jaanus has a point and all. Õllesummer is exactly what it says on the tin: a beer festival. You can dress that up as much as you like with sausages in buns and balloons and concerts for all ages, but it doesn't change the fact that the whole thing is founded on something which is meant to be illegal to supply to anyone under the age of 18. Now I'm not much bothered either way; kids are always going to want to try things they're told they're not allowed to, and they'll always find ways of doing it, so you're faced with a choice: make it an 18+ festival on principle, or abandon all pretence and just let people get on with it.

* Or words to that effect: all 'quotes' appearing in this article are rendered in a paraphrased and exaggerated style for dramatic effect.

The capriciousness of modern technology

I got an early mark from work today because our server (or the Internet connection in our building) (or whatever) packed up for no apparent reason, leaving me unable to do a damn thing. If I'd been translating I could at least have kept on with that, as all it requires is a functioning computer, the appropriate software and a file saved on your hard drive. At present though I am covering for our proofreader and editor, who is off on three weeks' holiday, so it's basically endless days of combing through contracts for typos, abused prepositions and missing articles, and this depends largely - indeed entirely - on files being sent to me by project managers and translators. However, whatever it was that was down being down meant that I could neither send or receive in-house email nor contact anyone via MSN or Hotmail. I was completely cut off.

It got me to thinking about a conversation I had the other day with Evelin, who I share an office with, in which we both said how lucky we are to live in this modern age of translating, where everything is available at the click of a button - online dictionaries, reference material, existing translations to compare against, and a whole host of people to check things with. Imagine what it must have been like, and how much harder and more drawn-out it must have been, we said, when none of this was available. Well, today made me realise that we are entirely at the mercy of that one little button: despite the age we live in, if it's not working, we are probably worse placed than those who made do perfectly well without it in the past. Are we really so useless in the face of digital whimsy?

Those two words again

Doctor Who

ABC, 7.30 pm, Saturday 14 July

She's always on my back

Estonia has pulled off an impressive one-two in the 2007 Wife Carrying World Championships in Sonkajärvi in Finland, notching up a four-year unbeaten record in the process. Estonian couples came first and second in the event, the winners rewarded with the wife's weight in beer for their efforts.

Given this year's championships attracted more than 50 couples from countries as far afield as Australia, Japan and South Africa, many of which have their own national associations, you have to wonder how long it will be before it becomes an Olympic sport.

The need for speed

Jaanus Mutli, who seems to be the only civil servant left at City Hall who hasn't gone on holiday yet, has revealed vague plans to cut the speed limit in Tallinn to 40 km/h. Not a blanket limit, he is quick to point out: just along specific roads and at specific intersections in the city centre where there are large numbers of pedestrian targets. In fact, the suggested go-slow zone covers the same area of the city in which you have to pay for your parking. I'm not sure whether this is simply for convenience or whether there's a logic to it somewhere. In any case, it is a largely sensible move, if as yet not thought through at great length.

It has nevertheless already created something of a stir. 'Traffic experts' have pointed out that reducing the speed limit in the neck of the bottle will only make it more congested, while also pointing out that whatever the signs you stick up, there will always be people who ignore them. The initiative is supported by the local Roads Authority, albeit with the caveat that City Hall should only implement the move if they can come up with the manpower required to exercise supervision of it. And there's the rub (i.e. in those last two points).

Estonians are some of the worst drivers in the world. People warned me about Italians and their cars before I went to live in Italy, but at least they're reckless in a reliable kind of way, and there are plenty of ridiculously dressed police on the roads maintaining some semblance of order. Here the drivers are just appalling. There might as well not be speed limits at all, as next to no one sticks to them, instead regularly exceeding them in bustling, built-up areas to degrees that would see them automatically lose their licences in Australia. The road seems to be where the average Estonian will happily express his frustration, jealousy and aggression, towards other drivers and hapless pedestrians alike. You only have to see the way the locals approach pedestrian crossings like lambs to the slaughter to appreciate that there is something to be feared here.

The flagrant disregard for road rules and the aggression of the drivers is exacerbated by the fact that the arm of the law that should keep them in check is so limp-wristed. (It's not helped either by the fact that there is never enough money to bring roads up to scratch, but that's another story; we're talking about an authority here who can't even find a paint for pedestrian crossings and lane markings that doesn't wear off in less than 24 hours.) I'm guessing this is a product of the enormous, sudden transitions that have been made since the Soviet Union collapsed. Estonia is a country, after all, which went from roughly no banking to Internet banking in the blink of an eye; ask anyone here what cheques are and they will probably never have heard of them. It works kind of the same with cars: all the Ladas have been replaced by black BMWs, but some basics of road safety have gone by the wayside in the meantime.

There are plenty of watchdogs guarding the banks, I imagine because there's money to be made out of it. But in Estonia there simply aren't enough police to go around, let alone form a fully functioning, effective traffic division, and there aren't the rules and systems of fines and whatnot to back them up. Nor the infrastructure: like cheques, speed cameras are something the country never caught on to. As a result, there is a 'lack of traffic culture' - a term bandied about here a lot of late, to little effect if you ask me: recognising your failings is only useful if you've got the wherewithal to address them, though I credit the admission - and a prevailing mindset that is totally inconducive to positive change.

The issues are so wide-ranging though that it's hard to know where to start. Most people here still appear to regard seatbelts as an optional extra. Drink driving remains a huge problem. At least three cars will run every red light. Combine this cavalier attitude with the fact that there's no incentive - apart from common sense, which most drivers seem to abandon as soon as they stick their key in the ignition - to follow the rules, since there's basically no one to enforce them, and you to begin to realise how big the problem is.

In that context you'd think that reducing the speed limit in the city centre would be a good idea, and by and large it has to be. But how many more frustrated drivers will it produce who exceed the speed limit even more heedlessly once they make it out the other side of the traffic jam?

What do you have to say to that, Mr Mutli?

29 kids were booked for underage drinking on the first day of the Õllesummer festival alone. Where was City Hall's precious rescue squad when the paraletic children of Tallinn needed them most?

The same two words

Doctor Who
ABC, 7.30pm, Saturday 7 July

The poor just got poorer

The Statistical Office has revealed that Estonia has made the top five of EU countries with the greatest disparity between rich and poor, a dubious honour it shares with fellow union newcomers Latvia, Lithuania and Poland. However, it can take heart from the fact that topping the chart with a sizeable lead remains old school Portugal, where the wealthy earn over 8 times more (on average) than the downtrodden. Slovenia, on the other hand, is rubbing the noses of the other nine countries that joined the EU on 1 May 2004 in it, as well as those of 14 of the 15 old members, by having the second most equal distribution of wealth in the union, only kept off the top spot by Sweden.

It's good to know then that the Reform Party is sticking to its guns. Viime Eesti 15 aastaga viie Euroopa rikkaima riigi sekka! was its campaign slogan - "not a promise, but a vision" - during the recent parliamentary elections: Let's make Estonia one of the five richest countries in Europe within the next 15 years! Dispossesed and nouveau-riche unite!

I take it all back

The future of Estonia is safe after all. This from Eesti Päevaleht columnist Grete Helena Kütt:

I am concerned by Estonia's relations with our vast neighbour, Russia, whom we have had a difficult relationship with throughout history. Not only do we share a border with them, but many Russians live in Estonia, which is why I feel it makes more sense to extend the hand of friendship to them. Even if there are people who consider Russia our enemy, remember what Oscar Wilde said: “Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.”

Grete Helena Kütt is in the 4th grade at the Rocca al Mare School in Tallinn. I mean, I knew it was posh, but 11-year-olds quoting Wilde in essays on foreign policy??

http://www.blogger.com/www.epl.ee/arvamus/391580

Protecting the children of Estonia

Hot on the heels of the folk festival for wee ones, Õllesummer, Estonia's answer to Oktoberfest, comes to Tallinn's Song Festival Grounds this Wednesday for five days of beer, food and concerts. It is arguably the most popular festival on the Estonian calendar, drawing people from all over the country, elsewhere in the Baltic States, and beyond. This year's programme is an impressive list of local artists - including, appropriately enough, Tanel Padar, who was caught drink driving by police last weekend. ("I sincerely regret it," he revealed in a heartfelt press statement. Hard to tell whether he means driving under the influence or being caught doing so.)

A glance at the line-up for the final night of the festival is a good indicator of how it's being marketed these days: while most of the other concerts are predominantly rock and alternative, the big guns for the finale are an early evening performance by the country's newly crowned, first ever Pop Idol, and a tribute to ABBA. You see, attempts have been made in recent years to turn Õllesummer into more of a 'fun for all the family' event rather than just a great big piss-up, but this in turn presents its own problems.

Recent studies revealed that the average age at which Estonian children get their first taste of hard liquor is something like 11 or 12, with most claiming to have experienced a hangover or worse from excess consumption of alcohol by 15. Beer in this country is sold in plastic bottles that make it look remarkably like soft drink, and is available in just about every kiosk. Ditto breezers and such. Basically, alcohol is everywhere and kids clearly get their hands on it at absurdly young ages.

But parents who are worried about packing their kiddies off to Õllesummer - the same kids who were only there the other day in their knee socks and knickerbockers - lest they act like every other 12-year-old in Estonia and head straight for the beer tents need fear no more. Tallinn's Vice-Mayor, the tasty Jaanus Mutli (pictured), has reassured the mothers and fathers of the land that while he is in City Hall, no child shall get wiped out on Saku Originaal.

Mutli will be unleashing a herd of inspectors from the Consumer Protection Division of the City Enterprise Department on the festival to carry out raids on unscrupulous vendors. It will be interesting to see whether the Vice-Mayor and his team employ the same tactics as Mutli himself did recently in exposing the underbelly of Tallinn's taxi trade. He and the then Mayor, Jüri Ratas, donned wigs, fake moustaches, fake tan and lots of designer labels in black and pretended to be Italian business men for a couple of days, seeing how many taxi drivers would rip them off. (Answer: most of them.) Amusingly, the pair allowed themselves to be photographed in their disguises, presumably for posterity. They looked like knobs. Proved a point, though.

It just makes me wonder whether the Mutli crew will be employing their underage offspring and neighbours' children to see if they can get away with buying beer without being asked for ID. What a coup it would be.

Hors de Prix

Thoroughly recommended.

One of the reasons I like Estonia so much

Tallinn is awash with boys and girls in folk costume. Today has seen the Song Festival Grounds host the culmination of the 10th Youth Song & Dance Festival, with more than 30,000 young singers, dancers and musicians taking to the stage in celebration of their cultural heritage.

I'm always delighted by the fact that the same kids and teenagers I struggled at times in the past to get to say anything in English other than swear words and the lyrics of Fifty Cent songs (which amount to the same thing) will still happily don their tights and skirts and vests and throw themselves wholeheartedly into unbridled expressions of national pride. They might all be striving - consciously or otherwise - to be indistinguishable from any other teenager in Europe these days, but it is to their credit and the good fortune of Estonia that they never, ever will be.

As the Prime Minister put it at the Song Festival today: a nation who knows to always sing from the heart will live forever.