Impressions from way out east

Last week, I traveled to Narva, a town situated on the very edge of Estonia where this city meets with the Russian border. Mentioning my travels, even to Estonians within their own rather geographically small country, garners a few appreciative inquiries and a whole slew of stereotypes. A predominately Russian town (90%) technically within the borders of Estonia, the town is known for its different character, industry, economic problems, and Russophone environment. A sceptic for all generalizations about places and people, I was prepared to defy the opinions of those who gave me a verbal preview of what I might find there. Listed below are a few things that I found.

1) Russian is, in fact, the de-facto lingua franca of Narva. Upon arrival by bus, I became suddenly aware of this difference when I asked for directions in Estonia and was met with a quizzical "ja nepanemayo" in Russian before trying out my own skills in Russian (quite conveniently, there is a lot of transfer from Slovak, the Slavic language I speak).

2) Towering over the river next to the city is the 14th-century Narva Castle. Although originally built by Danes, it has also had Swedish and Russian ownership. Now, in true Estonian style, there is Wi-Fi in the courtyard and a juxtaposition of cultures as Narva's statue of Lenin is also here.


One of the best views of the castle and Ivangorod Castle on the Russian side is from a Swedish lion gifted to the city.

3) English teachers here are friendly and excited about teaching! I spent four hours with teachers-in-training at Narva College (a branch of the University of Tartu where I normally teach) and a couple of hours at the American Corner at the Narva library working with local English teachers. They were approachable, fun, and quite creative as we spoke about language, culture, and pedagogy.

4) Bohemian life is also a piece of Narva's cultural landscape. For the two years prior to my arrival, there was an ELF (English Language Fellow) located in Narva, Kim. As chance would have it, Kim and I just happened to be colleagues at graduate school in Monterey and are still in contact with one another. While preparing for my trip, I asked for some advice about the area and Kim kindly put me in touch with some of her friends. We went out to a bar called Modern that was seemingly non-descript from the outside (you would never find it if you didn't know it was there). Truly Bohemian, the marker for the bar is a picture of the familiar Czechoslovak character, the Good Soldier Švejk. Apparently Svejk also mentioned Narva at some moment, and a plaque showcasing this quotation along with a picture of Svejk is tacked outside beside an lit advertisement for Czech beer. Needless to say, I felt quite at home in this artsy cellar drinking beer and philosophizing with Kim's friends.