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It all happened so fast. Independence was declared, people
sang, drove to the city with their tractors and combines, to
face their enemy. Nadezhda Mihailovna felt ashamed that
her native tongue was the enemy’s tongue. She also headed
for the city. There she bought cigarettes and Balsam liquor
and took them to the men standing guard by the campfires
lit in the Doma Square to save the newly reinstated Latvian
parliament, the crucial radio house, Doma Cathedral and
other important buildings. She stayed in the city for three
days and three nights, not closing her eyes once. Together
with all the others, she froze, sipped hot soup and waited.
She, like the others, lit candles in memory of those who
were shot.
It happened so fast. The canning factory was closed down
and they all lost their jobs. The house, where Nadezhda
Mihailova had the room and the kitchen was given back to
its legitimate owner. The land, where her garden was,
another proprietor reclaimed.
Nadezhda Mihailovna was grateful for having obtained a
narrow larder in a semi-abandoned house that, at least for
the moment, did not belong to anyone. Some others like
her also moved into this building. Having like a mouse into
a mouse hole dragged her collected belongings into her
larder, she sat on the floor and cried the first night. When
dawn came, she went into the woods.