Estonia Lives On, Thousands of Kilometres from Home
Author: Karmen Karus (Actress)
In the heart of Long Island, thousands of kilometres away from Estonia, the Estonian language could be heard in the voices of children this summer. It was my first time attending a summer camp for Estonian children living abroad, and this year the camp was dedicated to theatre. Together with the Teatribuss team, Marko Mäesaar and Toomas Lunge, we spent the week leading acting workshops and preparing a production of Little Red Riding Hood with the children.
At first glance, the task seemed relatively straightforward, but in reality, it proved to be quite a challenge. The children’s command of Estonian varied greatly: some spoke it fluently, others understood only a few words, and for some, Estonian was almost entirely unfamiliar. By the end of the week, however, they would all be standing on the same stage with a shared goal: to tell the story of Little Red Riding Hood in Estonian.
That was precisely what made the camp experience so special for me. Learning Estonian was not simply a school subject to be practised during lessons. The children learned the language through play, singing, acting and communicating with one another. It was wonderful to see how children, many of whom spend their everyday lives in an English-speaking environment, learned words and sentences in the language spoken by their parents, grandparents or great-grandparents.
During that week, I also found myself thinking a great deal about cultural heritage. We sometimes tend to speak of heritage and culture as something that belongs solely to the past—to old books, museums or history lessons. Being on Long Island made me realise very clearly that culture remains alive only when people actively carry it forward, even thousands of kilometres away from Estonia.
At times, I even felt that Estonian culture was cherished more consciously in America than in some homes in Estonia. Perhaps this is precisely because, when you live far from Estonia, you cannot take your language and culture for granted. In Estonia, the Estonian language surrounds us every day, and because of that, its uniqueness can easily fade into the background. Abroad, however, you have to make a conscious choice to speak Estonian with your child, teach them songs in Estonian, take them to folk dancing, celebrate Estonian holidays, or travel with them to an Estonian summer camp.
I believe this is one of the key aspects of passing cultural heritage on to the next generation. Culture stays alive not only by preserving the past, but by making it part of our everyday lives.
By the end of the week, our production of Little Red Riding Hood was ready, but the journey towards the performance was ultimately more important than the performance itself. The children did not simply learn their roles; they became part of the culture that was being passed on to them—and one day, they will be able to carry it forward themselves.
As I left Long Island, I found myself thinking about how far the Estonian spirit reaches beyond the country’s official borders. Culture does not stay alive through memory alone. It needs people who nurture it every day and pass it on to the next generation, because our heritage remains alive only for as long as there is someone willing to carry it forward.
The project was supported by the Institute of the Estonian Language through funding from the Ministry of Education and Research for Estonian education projects abroad.
