As Lithuania entered the EU on 1 May 2004, large-scale celebrations were held in the capital, Vilnius, with concerts, speeches and fireworks. Banners hung in the city center with slogans such as Būkime Europieĉiais! (Let's be Europeans!) and Mes Europoje! (We are in Europe!). Seven other formerly socialist countries joined the EU on the very same day together with Malta and Cyprus, and historical change was vibrating in the Vilnius festivities. Or so I was told, at least. I myself was not in Vilnius that day, but was residing in a village in southwest Lithuania. Looking out from my window in the evening, I saw nothing but empty streets. It was dark outside and except for a few barking dogs, it was quiet.

The silence hardly surprised me. From conversations about experiences and perceptions of the dissolution of the Soviet Union, I knew that the rural denizens had a rather practical take on “great events.” They had referred to the regained Lithuanian independence with such statements as “What changed for us? We still had to work,” “We thought there would be fewer alcoholics – but we only got more of them” or the metaphorical reflection “Before 1990, we had a piece of shit in one hand, now we have it in the other.”