Name: Marta Age: 21 Where from: a village somewhere in Latgale, on the very edge of Lake Razna, where the sky is reflected in the water and snow covers the roofs in winter. Personality: reserved, but not shy. My neighbors think I'm “strange” — I read too much, often sit on the pier by the lake and stare into the distance, as if waiting for a ship. In fact, I'm not waiting — I'm already sailing on it in my mind. What drives me: not just curiosity. I need to prove to myself that borders only exist on maps. That a girl from a Latgalian village can wake up in a hostel in Istanbul and fall asleep on a train to Tibet. I believe that the world is a huge book, and I have to read it all, even if it takes a lifetime. My motto is: “Es nezudīšos. Es atradīšos” — “I will not get lost. I will find myself.”
Sounds: the creaking of the well, the distant hum of a tractor, the echo of a church bell across the field. I learned English from old movies and Beatles songs — I played them on my phone, climbed up into the hayloft, and sang along with Lennon, staring at the ceiling.
The noise and bustle of the city, the smell of fear