Back in Malmö.
My one-word takeaway from this trip? Melancholy. I recognize it from visits to other Eastern European cities: Gdańsk, Tbilisi, Sofia, Belgrade, Zagreb, Tirana, Vilnius, Tallinn.

The younger generation doesn’t carry the weight of nearly seventy years of political oppression and social tyranny as heavily as the older Latvians do. Yet the melancholy lingers in them too. It takes effort to coax out a smile. Public laughter is rare. Seriousness reigns.

Authoritarian rule has embedded itself in the DNA of society – clearly spanning generations. Suspicion and skepticism are ever-present – instinctive, almost reflexive.

Yet somehow, I’m drawn to this melancholy. It’s brutally honest – non-pandering and unvarnished. Just like many of the old buildings and houses in Riga. Including the old railway station, which provided me with a few interesting views.

As I grow older, I find myself more introspective and reserved, less interested in spending time as the outgoing and superficial individual of yesteryear. As Popeye once said, “I yam what I yam, and that’s all what I yam.”