OPEN ARCHIVES OF KAUNAS

„Ne kiek to baisiausio žmonijos istorijoj karo Tadas ir beprisimena – keli paveikslai, ir tie neaišku, ar paties prisiminimai, ar vėliau išgirsti žmonių pasakojimai, pavirtę prisiminimais, keli pablukę vaizdai: vienas iš Kauno, antras iš Vilniaus, trečiasis iš Veprių. 1938 metais gimęs, trijų ketverių penkerių metų bamblys – kas gi tokio peliuko galvoj galėjo įstrigti? Ugnis? Sprogimas? Gaisrų pašvaistės? Ir vis dėlto šį tą prisimena: ant aukšto kalno – minia žmonių, visi tyli, visi žiūri į žemumą, į tolimą duobę, kurioje kažkas liepsnoja, virsta dūmais, bet neįžvelgsi kas (dabar Tadas jau žino: tai liepsnojo Kauno Slabados rajonas, vokiečių paverstas getu ir sudegintas, tame priemiesčio kampe glaudėsi ir jo tėvų namelis, o tie ant aukšto kalno stovintys žmonės, tos raudančios moterys – tai Slabados gyventojai, išvaryti iš savųjų gūžtų kaip stovi – visiems jiems teko viską pradėti nuo pradžios: ir butelius susirasti, ir baldelius susikalti, ir vėl iš naujo išmokti gyventi, mylėtis, daryti vaikus, o laikui bėgant ir vagiliauti, ir apgaudinėti), tik kruvina pašvaistė ant žmonių veidų, kruvinos kibirkštys raudančių moterų ašarose“.

**Solveiga Lukminaitė: **My brightest memories are related to my favourite places in Kaunas, especially Kaunas yacht club. In my childhood, I used to go there for a walk with my parents. I would love watching the yachts... Each time, I would admire the yacht I shared the name with. Even though currently I don't visit this place as often as I used to, whenever we stop by the yacht club, I still remember it and feel nostalgic. (2014)

*Neringa: *In childhood, our parents would bring us to Vytauto Park. Back then, the roofs of Orbita looked like the caps of amanita mushrooms. This carousel was perceived as big children entertainment. So, what was left for us? The slow-paced Saulutė. In my early memories, children's festivals would take place in the park; it was possible to buy cotton candy and ride a pony. When the travelling American amusement park arrived at Kaunas, my mother protested our desire to go there and pay more than needed for our screams and flashing lights, so she brought us to Vytauto Park. She said that we would stay here just for a little while. The silence in the park was sometimes disturbed by tiny cars driven by its visitors. Right then, five minutes in a ship turned into an hour full of the simple joy of wind, and nothing better could have happened at that moment. I feel so thankful for her incredible patience watching her daughters from the bench. I come back here every spring for more than five years. Every time, I bring some people for whom this is a discovery. Now in my memories I see carousels, big ones, lots of slow conversations, Lithuanian music playing on the summer stage on weekends, with old ladies wearing starched collars waiting for the dancing on the little stage. Vytauto Park can be described as a little universe with its own spirit. But its crown does not belong to the carousels, their ancient demeanour and wild atmosphere, but rather to Regina, the employee who oversees a part of the park. I remember her presence in this space all the time and cannot imagine it without her. Without her, it would be a simple attraction. She somehow fills the space. Even when she stopped dyeing her hair orange and started to ignore the greying effect of time, she remained just as energetic: painted ladybugs on carousels, and if she recognized us, she would reproach us (“Why do you come so late this year?”). Sometimes she would wink and let us ride Orbita free of charge. This once, when I brought a group of foreigners, she got excited and started telling about her youth, when once at night, at Kaunas Botanical Garden, she caught a glimpse of a blossom of a large-flowered cactus that blooms once a year, and the other time, she told us about the real tree of knowledge: something about a walnut tree growing nearby and squirrels. Things like this helps you understand that sharing is good. Only each time, you return to the park as an old, somewhat guilty acquaintance, but not a conspirator enough for this to last for a little bit longer. This photo is for Regina. I have always wanted to give her this. (2014)

*Gercas:* "Basically, all amateur activities had to go through a selection process. There had to be songs in Russian and Lithuanian. Amateur activities were allowed, but I am almost completely sure that there were people infiltrated in them as well. Director Judelis Rondaris decided to create a drama in Jewish language (Yiddish) and he needed people who new Jewish (Yiddish). I could speak it quite well and I liked acting. The play was called “Shalom Aleichem”. We were envied by dancers and singers, because they wanted to sing and dance more. They met our drama with hostility, but residents of Kaunas liked it very much. Our audience was not only Jewish, but also Lithuanian and of mixed families. There are quite a few mixed families among us." (2018)

*Asija*: “In the evenings, Laisvės Avenue was full of people. Families would go for a walk. It was a magnificent tradition. Lithuanian, Jewish and Russian families were walking in the avenue. The oldest members of the family would be walking in front of everyone else; parents following them and lastly a bunch of children were running after them. Slowly, constantly greeting each other, people passed through Laisvės Avenue and returned home. Women had to have a small handbag and a hat.” (2017).

*Gintaras Vitulskis: *These pictures are from the 1930s: in one of them, there is a festive formation of yachtsmen (or maybe sea scouts) captured as seen from Aleksotas, and the other one with Aleksotas in the background. In 1932, the yacht club was established next to Aleksotas bridge in a building floating on a pontoon platform, the so called brandwacht. There were premises with administration, a restaurant and dressing room for sportsmen. Later this building was renamed and became Perkūnas Yacht Club. (2014)

Svetlana: “I was living in Siberia and came to Lithuania from Irkutsk when I was 32 years old. My husband is a Lithuanian exile, I met him in Siberia. I taught physical education at Linksmakalnis and Išlaužas schools. We taught in Russian. Only later we have switched to Lithuanian. My kids were taking classes in Linksmakalnis. The area of the town was blocked. Iron and concrete blocks were placed at the entrance. Ponds were excavated. As we passed through, we would see bones and skulls. I couldn't say that something secret had happened here. An ordinary intelligence. Employed military officers with technological education. Watching, listening, encrypting. They were looking for some information they had needed. Would make selections. In cases they couldn‘t decrypt it – would send it to Moscow. There were rumours – there was a rocket here. That they were suppressing American broadcasts. There was no such thing. We had never felt like this was a military town, like we were isolated. I remember how we would go out for picnics with my children. The barracks were where the ruins are now. Which had a sauna, a sanitary unit. When the unrest began, the soldiers were transferred to another house of exiles. The moving of soldiers was rather quiet and beautiful.” (2019) 

*Fruma*: "We were hiding in Petrašiūnai, a place that was not considered to be part of the city. We once came up with an idea to go back home. We were going from Aukštieji Šančiai down Siūlų Street towards the city centre, my father and brother were recognized by three Hiwis, and therefore were arrested and taken to an unknown location. My mother insisted that I run as far as possible. At home she asked the neighbours to hurry and follow the Hiwis to see where my father and brother were taken to. I remember my neighbour handing mother her new-born daughter and then immediately running downstairs."

*Jonas:* "The mosque that previously belonged to National M. K. Čiurlionis Museum was returned to Tartars in 1990. Someone had to overtake it, and there was no one who could do it. So, this is how I became the head of the community. My activities were mostly related to the mosque, its installation, exploitation and fund-raising. The building had grey walls, sealed windows and did not have any floor. The museum did not use the mosque, but before giving it back to us, it was renewed.

Menininko Gyčio Dovydaičio dokumentinis filmas-reportažas apie Kaunas 2022 organizuoto Istorijų festivalio 2019 centrą – Ramybės parką (Kauno senąsias kapines) – ir jo kaimynystėje gyvenačius kauniečius.