Tere Tere

“Tere” means hello in Estonian.  Greetings from Estonia.

Tartu Town Hall flying both Estonian and Ukranian flags

I am in Tartu where my father lived, and where my ancestors are buried. I am poorly studying the Estonian language in an intensive course at the University of Tartu

This gives me a fantastic opportunity to feel the emotions and frustrations that must be felt by many new immigrants to the USA. While I have chosen this path, have a safe and lovely place to live as well as the funds to feed myself and receive medical attention as needed, I realize that even in this experience, I am living a life of privilege.

When my father fled Estonia at the end of World War II, he had to learn Swedish while working as a lumberjack by day. When families flee violence in Central America (created in part by the USA), they have to learn English while trying to survive day-to-day in the USA.

In our public schools, children have to endure the frustration of “not getting it.”  While I have years of learning experience and know that my frustration is temporary and eventually my brain will start “to get it,” who at the age of fifteen has that perspective?

Here in Tartu, almost half my peers in language class are Ukrainian students (mostly medical students) fleeing the war and trying to continue their studies. Also, I have classmates from around the world who have ancestors from Estonia, like I do.  We come together to help each other on this journey, regardless of why and how we ended up here.