Pets represent one area of society that frequently goes unheard. Maybe it’s because we don’t speak their language as well as we should, but they demand to be treated as an equal part of discussions.

We have covered in previous years how the pets of the Opinion Festival turn out in style and often look better-dressed than their owners. This time, the stakes got raised. James, you see, is a dalmatian whose reputation goes before him. His story is the stuff of legend. Having escaped the clutches of Cruella de Vil, along with his 100 siblings, James decided to strike out solo, and emigrated to Estonia, where he is owned by Kelly.

Here, it would appear the debonair canine has become something of a celebrity, having, like all the most famous people, his own social media hashtag, #DalmatianJames . It’s for this reason that the Opinion Festival blog decided to catch up with the dog of the moment, to find out what he had enjoyed most about the Opinion Festival, and what could be improved.

“I’d say it’s all been really well organised,” James told us, “especially the street food. I shouldn’t eat hamburgers – they’re bad for my digestive system in big portions – but I took my chance to try a bit from Hungry Karl, and I wasn’t disappointed. I also took the opportunity to let Jevgeni Ossinovski and Hanno Pevkur know my views on the need for the state to subsidise doggy-treats. Ossinovski said it wasn’t part of the present government programme, but both politicians seemed to understand my point of view, which was good.”

James was equally forthright on his favourite festival stand from the Opinion Festival 2017. “I have to give full marks to the designers of the stand made from sustainable mushrooms (below). It was incredibly well-made, and I love hunting for mushrooms, so it felt like I was running round the forest, while watching a debate take place.”

At the time of writing, James was barking loudly at the sky, seemingly angry that an act of force majeure had caused his favourite part of the Opinion Festival, the party leaders’ debate, to be delayed and then acted out under a thunderstorm. Storms aren’t his thing, frankly. Still, with the profile he is swiftly building, a position in the cabinet after the next reshuffle looks to be a formality.

A talk taking place at the Opinion Festival on Saturday, ‘Diversity in the Estonian workplace and society: the good, the bad and the ugly’, examined issues of culture, race, identity, and discussed both what foreigners can do to feel more part of Estonian life, and also what Estonia as a whole can do to be as welcoming as possible.

The Opinion Festival throws up annual surprises, but one regular topic is foreigners and their integration into Estonian life. This is perhaps understandable – with the rapid expansion of Estonia-based companies like Transferwise, along with increased international investment in the country, has come a shift in the population demographic. This has not been without friction, as the discussion, in the shadow of Paide’s Holy Cross Church, showed. Nonetheless, there were anecdotes that showed how much has changed for the better for residents of other nationalities.

A lot of the discussion revolved around learning the Estonian language; many adult learners say that they find it difficult to pick up. There was also some talk about whether the problem is that, for the majority of incomers, at least those based in Tallinn, there is a lack of immersion culture – in other words, most Estonians in the capital are happy to speak English, and so it is rare for there to be a definite need for the Tallinn-based foreigner to converse in Estonian. For this reason, the idea of making it compulsory for all foreigners living in Estonia to learn the language was raised. However, although there was some support for the idea, in general the audience, which was quite evenly split between Estonians and foreigners, preferred encouragement of language learning to compulsion.

In general the discussion was calm and measured, but there was more passion shown when an African-American audience member brought up a word often used in the Estonian language to describe a person of colour, which sounds very similar to a term which has become known as very abusive and racist in the UK and US. She said that hearing that word used made her feel uncomfortable.

There was then debate over the perceived historical context of the word in the Estonian language, and whether the requirement to change should be upon the individual who heard the word and was offended, or upon Estonian society not to use the word (there being plenty of other, synonymous, terms that could be used that would not offend anyone). Although no definitive decision was reached, there seemed to be a consensus that increased care over not offending people with any language used would make the world of work more comfortable for many.

A Latin American living in Estonia described how he had, initially, greeted his colleagues in the office each day by shaking their hands, and had regularly hugged people who he knew well, until being told it was not a common thing to do in an Estonian workplace. He explained his personal dilemma, before saying that he decided to “embrace” the fact that he did not look, sound or act “like an Estonian”, and that he was proud of his cultural identity. Two young Russian-Estonian siblings also talked about their positive experiences learning Estonian at a Russian school.

From there, the talk moved onto the ways in which foreigners can get to know Estonian culture. The theatre was cited as a great way to learn the language and to gain a greater cultural understanding; many high-profile productions are subtitled in English, while another idea raised was to hold performances written specially in easy-to-understand Estonian, for adult language-learners. The talk was held in the ‘world cafe’ format, meaning that microphones were passed throughout the audience, and participation ‘in the round’ was encouraged, rather than set speakers taking part in a more conventional forum.

Why have festivals like the Opinion Festival become popular with so many people, what can be done to attract more people to take part in the discourse, and what can the festival do better? There was also a great idea on how to get divided people to talk more freely.

A discussion, ‘The power of democracy festivals’, explored these questions on Friday, with a twist on the conventional format of discussion allowing the panel and audience to split into small groups and discuss various questions in circles.

Visitors from Finland, Denmark, Latvia and Lithuania came to Paide to talk about their experiences of organising or taking part in what are known as ‘democracy festivals’ – events encouraging public participation in discussions on a variety of topics. One of the things mentioned, in the debate moderated by journalist Liis Kängsepp, was that there is no one right way of encouraging good discussion and a closer community. Mads Akselbo Holm, the organiser of Folkemodet in Denmark, came up with perhaps the most intriguing idea in terms of getting people from two sides of a divide to come together.

Holm said it could be as simple as getting two opposing politicians, for example, to cook a meal together. Explaining the idea, he said, “maybe they don’t agree on matters of policy, but they can both agree that they like the country they live in, they can both agree they were born in that country, and maybe they both share a favourite dish.” The tantalising prospect of battling members of government and opposition putting down their briefing notes and picking up spatulas and frying pans is certainly unconventional, but could it work?

Mari Haavisto, organiser of SuomiAreena, the Finnish equivalent of the Opinion Festival, felt it was important that the city of Pori, around three hours’ travel from Helsinki, was the host of the event. It comes in the same space of time as the city’s jazz festival, and the two combine to bring a pleasant party atmosphere to an otherwise relatively quiet area every summer, something that might be lost if SuomiAreena were relocated to the Finnish capital. The Opinion Festival has become synonymous with Paide, and it is also true that Järve county, in which Paide is situated, is proud and happy to host the festival. Something of the close community spirit could be lost if it were held in Tallinn or Tartu, contributors felt.

One commenter added that he felt that the Opinion Festival was at least as much about meeting new people, and getting a new perspective on life, as it was about the open discussion that takes place every year. The principle of inviting and accepting all forms of debate, as long as they do not cause violence, was also mentioned, as part of the spirit of a truly open festival of ideas.

Ukraine will hold its first democracy festival this year, and the concept seems to be going viral all around Europe. What is true in every case is that changes can be made, in the interactivity of the events, and how they reach out to people. That’s part of a journey of constant improvement.

Genia Trofimova is the Product and Project Manager for Mooncascade, a software development agency with a number of high-profile clients. A story she told illustrated a company working closely with its client for an optimal user experience. “A customer from Wall Street said he wanted ‘Tinder for Wall Street’ and asked if we could make it, and I said ‘sure’, and all of our team installed Tinder – it was fun. We explored what ‘Tinder for Wall Street’ meant, and then, three months into development and design, we went into very intense user testing. We built this trust, and the client in New York, the team in Seattle, everybody listened to what our team has to say; we want to keep our team happy, and people want to participate and show their talents.”

Ede Schank Tamkivi, from the Eesti 2.0 non-governmental organisation, was moderating the discussion, and began a discussion of good and bad user experiences with an awkward encounter with an Estonian state portal. “I had the experience when registering the birth of my child – I went to rik.ee [an Estonian government website], clicked on the drop-down menu, and the first option displayed was stillbirth, which is not a great thing for a new mother to have to see or think about.”

Jaanus Kase, Head of Product Design at Pipedrive, continued the subject of childcare. “When you have a child, there are about seven or eight different kinds of support you can apply for, depending on whether the child is disabled, or you’re a foster parent, or other things. Your day is full of things not related to filling out these forms, then at night you have maybe ten minutes to fill out the forms, and you get this long list of options.”

“Some kind of easy option would be great, but you get a long list. I would diminish the [list of] options, say if it’s my own child or a foster child, then in Estonia the system can tell where you’re living, so it could give me the options related to my local government. More to the point: why do I even have to do any activity myself? Why can it not be done for me?”

Trofimova responded to an audience question about whether users of apps that change their user interface, and are unhappy about this, are somehow too picky. “It’s still information,” Trofimova said, “and it brings a lot of information about comfort zone, and how far we can go with changes. There is no such thing as too picky – we just need to be picky how we take that information into account.”

Markus Villig, CEO of Taxify, an Estonian-founded driver-requesting app that uses both private drivers and licensed taxi companies, found that his product was mentioned by many panellists and audience members over the course of the 90-minute discussion, primarily because the app has become an integral part of the lives of many people in Estonia and other countries in which it has been rolled-out. While several people said they used Taxify every day, and praised its user experience, others pointed out the recent update that took away the user’s choice of specific taxi operator and car. For Villig, this was an example of making the user experience better in the long term by taking away a choice.

“This is a question we debated internally for one to two years. We have power-users who want to see all the information about a car before they pick it, and they run a sort of internal algorithm to decide which one to take. There’s always a question how much information you include. But people get out of the club, and most people in that situation just want the nearest car, as cheap and as fast in arriving as it can be. Those sorts of people are not usually so interested in picking from a long list of cars.”

“Then we started to look at whether we could fundamentally make the service better. If we can make the pickup shorter, drivers can waste less fuel, waste less time and make more pickups per hour. That’s why when you choose a car, which might be the same kind of car at the same price, but might be two kilometres further away, it creates a waste of fuel and mileage. We need to simplify it so that people cannot make sub-optimal choices. Ultimately this means that the driver earns more, it means the whole platform’s quality goes up, and so on.”

Kase added, “it’s about testing and data. There is no good design that can be isolated from the impact it has on its business. There is a difference between what people say they will do and what they do in reality. A great example of that is in politics – a lot of Americans said they would move to Canada after Trump got elected, but how many have done that?”

“If it looks good but doesn’t produce results, it’s not good design. The other thing to think about regarding whether or not people are too picky is to look at where this discussion is happening. It’s happening online, on platforms like Facebook and Twitter; these are not public services, they are commercial enterprises, pushing us around, actively enticing us to have a discussion there, so they can make more money off us. Most people don’t think about that. The noise surrounding the things versus what actually happens are two different things.”

Villig, like many tech CEOs an admirer of Apple legend Steve Jobs, cited a remark he made. “Steve Jobs was right when he said ‘people don’t know what they really want.’ People make a lot of noise, and it’s important to listen to that, but you won’t see how people really react until the product is actually launched.”

Check out the Opinion Festival programme for the full list of entertainment throughout the weekend

The vast expanse of sand, which can be found on the edge of Keskväljak (Central Square), is proof that Pärnu might have the Weekend Festival, and mile upon mile of perfect golden sand, and Haapsalu might have its own blues festival along with some of the best spas in Estonia, but Paide has its fair share of fun in the sun.

Foodies’ delight

If you’re, like many people, a hit-and-miss beach volleyball player, Keskväljak and the adjoining section of Tallinna mnt (Tallinn street) offer enough street food to keep you going through a long day of walking and talking. Our early tips are Hungry Karl, who offer excellent-quality hamburgers and goat’s cheese burgers, or, for a lower price, you can get a taste of Sri Lanka, with authentic chicken curry that is being made all weekend by expert cooks from the island.

More fun!

Following the discussions on both days, there is a selection of entertainment to take your pick from. Over in the Wittenstein/Järvamaa museum there is a video disco between 9pm and 2am on Friday, and on Keskväljak, Tallinn’s longest-established hipster hangout Must Puudel is taking over, on Friday and Saturday, with banging tunes and DJ sets, along with captivating live performances. Back on Vallimägi from 10pm to midnight on Friday, Tallinn’s coolest coworking space, LIFT99, hosts one of its regular get-togethers.

Perhaps the standout entertainment events take place in the yard of Vabalinna Maja (Free Town House, literally), the festival club. There, between 10pm and 11pm on Friday, the beloved musical innovator, singer-songwriter Vaiko Eplik, will play some of his most popular songs from down the years.

There’s also a series of must-see installations from lighting artist Jari Matsi, who is bringing innovation and beauty to Tallinna mnt 24, 32, and 34. You can see what he’s done with these lovingly-renovated townhouses between midnight and 2am after the festival concludes for the day on both Friday and Saturday.

The festival has been running since 2013, and each iteration has had its standout moments. There is something in the greenery of the heart of Estonia, Paide, for most tastes and mindsets. Even so, sometimes it’s worth taking a step back and asking, ‘what is all this for?’, and why we have this annual gathering.

The growing number of Erasmus courses offered by Estonian universities is also helping to change the complexion of Estonia. How are foreigners finding life in Estonia, and how good are relations with local people? This was one of the questions considered by the talk on Saturday, ‘Do Non-Native Residents Feel Like Hosts or Guests?’, presented by Estonian World and the Estonia 100 Celebration team.

‘What Can We Do For World Peace?’ is possibly the biggest question on the planet, and at the Opinion Festival on Saturday morning, an intrepid group of academics, educators and activists attempted to answer it.

Although it is fair to say that, over the course of 90 minutes, it was not possible to reach a consensus on how to achieve world peace, or even if it is possible, the most interesting part of the discussion was, as is often the case in such theoretical talks, the individual stories of the speakers.

Why do so many countries want to be like Nordic countries? Are they really as “happy” as they seem? Can Estonia ever be a Nordic country? These were some of the questions considered by the panel at the Opinion Festival’s talk, ‘How Strong Are the Nordic Countries? Strong Enough to Be Happy?!’ (punctuation as written in the brochure) which took place on Friday afternoon and was organised in association with the Norden Nordic Council of Ministers.

Helen Russell is a freelance journalist whose book, Living Danishly, describes the many social and cultural adaptations that have to be made by a British immigrant to the place ranked by the United Nations as the happiest in the world. Moderator Villu Arak asked why there was such an appetite in Denmark for dark, noirish crime fiction. Russell replied that it was possibly because life was comfortable enough to want to read or see a struggle. “There’s definitely something to be said for taking things for granted.” She then turned to the topic of what makes Denmark special to international workers.

The official Opinion Festival brochure says that when we think of the Netherlands we think of tulips and windmills, but for others, the Low Country means philosophical footballers, excellent flood defences and a – cough – liberal attitude towards what someone may or may not be smoking. But there is a tradition of this small nation, which was once a merchant shipping hub for the world, exporting new solutions to civic and political problems, and it was one way of doing so, the polder model, which was discussed on Friday afternoon in the talk “How to Make Consensus-Based Decisions: Dutch Polder Brunch”.

According to Wikipedia, “the polder model is consensus decision-making, based on the acclaimed Dutch version of consensus-based economic and social policy making in the 1980s and 1990s.” Wim Kok, who was Dutch Prime Minister during the economic boom-time of 1994 to 2002, supported the polder model, or his version of it, as a way of ensuring that all voices be heard in a process of decision-making.

Things have changed, some would say for the worse, since Kok’s time at the head of his government. The far right is building its share of the vote in the Netherlands, Estonia and many other parts of Europe, and the idea that consensus can be found on any issue just by talking it over now seems less of a certainty than it once was.

Peter Kentie, a Dutchman from Rotterdam living at the moment in Tallinn, talked about the rebranding of Estonia, with Visit Estonia now using slogans like “ESTonishing”, alongside a new logo. “It’s not about the logo, it’s about passions. You can’t have it that someone from the ministry comes to someone and gives someone the task to do the design, the ministry should team up with the stakeholders in Estonia, and together create the brief and together be responsible for the result.”

Sometimes, Kentie argued, it matters how people collaborate, not just who collaborates. “If the person giving the brief is sitting next to you, rather than just being the one who gives the money, that makes the difference. It’s better to have that discussion in the room, than in a newspaper.”

When asked by moderator Annika Uudelepp how he would attract Asian, or international, talent in greater numbers to Estonia, Kentie said that perhaps the problem should be viewed differently. “I think maybe, as a first priority, talent should not be coming, maybe the priority should be exporting to the rest of the world.”

“There are qualities here that aren’t yet fully-known to other countries. You really have to communicate those qualities to the rest of the world. If you do that, then maybe people [in other countries] will think ‘I can contribute something there in the future.’ The ‘Skype Mafia’ shows that you have all these young people who use the digital world in a disruptive way, and that’s the important thing, to disrupt. If others go left, you should go right, and if you get that mentality right, people will come to you. You have to first tell the world you’re really open to that, and communicate to the rest of the world that you’re there.”

One example of increased civic activism in Estonia has been evident over the proposed development of Kalarand in Tallinn. Local groups ensured that they had a say in the planning of a new development on the promenade, and ensured the current beach would remain in place, but only after the developers, with the apparent backing of local government for their building plans, tried to sue a local activist to bring in a gagging order.

“In the Netherlands,” said panellist and Dutch Ambassador to Estonia Jos Schellaars, “we also have property developers who are very keen on acquiring areas on which they can build. But then there is a process of permission. Even after the permission is given, I think in the Netherlands protesters have a louder voice. The discussion process, I think, is much longer. Voices are louder and better-heard.”

The Opinion Festival has, as one of its aims, to create an atmosphere that is good for open discussion, but how much do we actually want, or need this? Is this kind of debate a peacetime luxury, in a time when it often feels like war, or at least some bigger conflict, is pending?

During the aftermath of the recent referendum that saw Britain vote to leave the European Union, there was a lot of discussion about the different choices faced by the UK and the rest of Europe in the future. The vote, which took most of the political elite by surprise and was greeted with a sense of joy by some and impending doom by others, threw individuals and political parties into a period of extended soul-searching, from which they have not yet emerged.

What was particularly interesting was what it meant for the future of debate. We take it for granted today that we will be given time and space to discuss openly solutions to problems. However there is a growing feeling that the way in which we conduct debate is changing. The Donald Trump campaign in the United States, the refugee crisis in Europe, and discussions on how many displaced people Estonia will take, have all been conducted in an increasingly bellicose manner. The manner of debate seems to be similar to that shown in this video (apologies for linking to an RT post, but it shows what I mean).

This all begs the question, although many of us like to philosophise about the best way of organising ourselves, does this mean that modern culture and government can do so? We have seen, with the acceptance of political “spin” as a necessary tool for most governments, distrust in elites rise. This appears to be at least part of the reason for the rise of Trump, and for Brexit. It’s created a situation where it doesn’t take many points in a conversation on something like Twitter, for example, for one side or both sides to start exhibiting anger.

Essentially, a Twitter conversation in 2016 goes like this:

• Person One: I’m being deliberately provocative, but I’m obviously right, because the person in [this link] agrees with me.
• Person Two: Really? I don’t agree with all of what you just said. Here is another [link] that I feel proves my argument is right.
• Person One: What gives you the right to argue against my point? Check your privilege. You must be a misogynist, or a conservative, or most likely both.
• Person Two: I have every right to exist in this world, but you are the whole reason why the global system is going down the toilet. And you’re ugly.

The honeycomb ceiling kept the audience warm and sheltered, and although each piece was made from cardboard boxes, they were reinforced with waterproof, insulating material which is often used for packing computers.

The result was a spot that felt uniquely-attuned to great debate, and was a credit to the ingenious third-year EKA students, who have set down a marker for their successors who will design the stand for next year’s Arvamus Festival.

When I was at school in the 1990s, many teenagers would talk about their summer trips to Ibiza or Ayia Napa, which were a fortnight’s blur of clubbing, alcohol abuse, and possibly a lot more. This was the era of the superclub, Cream and the Ministry of Sound hoovering up customers every Saturday in Liverpool and London respectively, then going on tour to the Balearic Islands to play to an audience dominated by British tourists.

I didn’t go to Ibiza with my school friends. Of course, some people were comfortable at home, like I was. But the aim of these trips was to get very, very drunk – and this wasn’t something I was interested in. I was a country boy who enjoyed reading and music – and not played at 100 decibels. I sometimes asked my parents why I wasn’t the “kind of person” who could go, but they just looked at me with that look that says, “one day, you’ll understand”.

Now, I do. It seems to me that young Estonians are growing up with so many more positive influences than my school class had. Last night, in the Must Puudel’s party for Arvamus Festival-goers, I saw happy people singing along to obscure pop tunes released in 1984 or ’85, when I was 3 or 4 years old, and they were a long way from being born. This was the kind of music I loved playing – in private, of course (I even got picked-on for buying Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet or Ultravox from the record store when I was a teenager), but now it wasn’t a source of shame for anyone. Indeed, it seemed like a badge of honour to know as much of the music as possible.

The knowledge extends to the debates, too. Young people are being thanked for their contribution, being actively praised for their knowledge of complex topics – and more and more people know more and more things, that’s something that’s obvious from asking a few questions, and hearing the different opinions expressed at the Arvamus Festival.

I never used to mind being called a “nerd” or a “geek”. Those are terms that just mean someone knows a lot about something. But what’s changed beyond recognition is the way the nerd and the geek are now seen as the intelligent, well-rounded people they always were.

So how about it, are we getting smarter by generation? That, like everything else here, is a matter of debate. All I know is, I wish I’d been given this festival when I was 20 or 21. I would have loved every minute, just like I do now.

For €8, it’s a premium price, but the burger, which came to me after only five minutes, was tender, broad and substantial. Served on a plate (rather than horizontally in paper as is usually favoured by Estonian convenience stalls), and with a wooden skewer through the middle in order to hold everything together, it feels like quality when you take it.

The mayonnaise and red onion chutney go well together, and the brown granary flat bun is a nice touch, though I always prefer it when burger places slightly toast them. However, the big X-factor of this burger was the makers’ use of smoked cheese in place of the usual processed strip – a variation on the theme that made the burger taste classy. Sticking with the upmarket theme, this is definitely a meal for picking apart, not picking up, hence why knives and forks are supplied.

If, like me, you craved a meat fix after a long day on the Festival tracks, the hamburger is something you will not be disappointed with. Head down to the food court and see what we mean.

The Arvamus Festival isn’t only about the topics that make us ponder deeply about our existence. It’s also about the things that make us laugh, that make us joyful. On the Ekspress Meedia stage, a group of Estonian performers got together to ask, “Is stand-up the new Estonian theatre?”

There were differing views on the matter, and of course there was mention of the increasing popularity of stand-up comedy, that form of performance where, usually, one person stands on a stage and speaks directly to the audience in an attempt to make them laugh.

After the discussion, we met up with Estonian producer and performer Karl Kermes, who had been one of the panel, to get his view on the topic. He was frank about where Estonian comedy stood at the moment. “I think we don’t have a stand-up culture. It’s coming, but it’s not there yet,” Kermes explained, citing the fact that audience trends are different in Estonia to those traditional hot-spots of stand-up, the UK and USA.

“If we speak about stand-up from different languages [and cultures], I personally think, for an Estonian mainstream theatre audience, that kind of raw stand-up in pubs and clubs is not something they’re taking. It’s a great theatre-loving country. I’m working to build up stand-up shows that last one to two hours, for example like what Eddie Izzard is doing.”

Estonian comedy has always existed, but in different forms, the producer explained. “We have this problem that most of the comedians we put on the stage have graduated from Estonian drama school, then have been working in different theatres, in different roles. Now you’re asking them to come on stage and speak as themselves, with their own ideas, and I’ve found out it’s very difficult to them.” There has, he feels, been a general trend towards Estonian performers preferring to hide behind a role. “Somehow [the show] turns into a play, not a stand-up, in the end. That’s why I’m saying that at the moment, we don’t have Estonian stand-up.”

We asked if the reason for that was because of the way young people were brought up in the school system in Estonia, which has not always encouraged play or creativity in the way other systems have. “It can be;” Kermes said, “if you look at our history, where we are coming from, the time has been very short. I think also the new, young actors that are coming from drama school are thinking differently to the older, well-known comedians. So I think things will change, but it takes time.”

On another topic, Kermes was quick to name his favourite comedian. “Eddie Izzard. The main reason, or let’s say subconscious reason, is he was the first show I looked at on YouTube, and he’s great – he’s doing it so fluently, and I just love him.”

The enormous popularity of Irish comedian Dylan Moran, who sold out his November stand-up show in Tallinn within hours of tickets being released online, is heartening for those who loved him as an actor in the sitcoms ‘Black Books’ and ‘How Do You Want Me?’. Moran appears to share a special bond with Estonian audiences, and there is evidence the feeling is reciprocal. “The first time Dylan came to Estonia, it was surprising how quickly he sold out [of tickets], and it was so good, and I think it’s great to see, but I can’t put my finger on the reasons,” Kermes concluded.

With a speaking area for every taste, the Arvamus Festival has thrown up some interesting debates, on every part of Estonian public (and private) life. The discussion on the need for a Russian-language TV channel in Estonia continues to be heard, and I attended the debate run by Keskerakond (the Centre Party), which held a discussion of its representatives’ views on the matter.

With questions often heated, as they regularly are when it comes to Estonian politics, it was interesting to see the public being given an open forum on which to question elected politicians, and even more interesting to see how they responded. Other political parties have been holding parallel debates, including the Reform Party, the IRL and the Social Democrats, making this a fully-rounded political debate.

2. A Chance for a Charm Offensive

Estonia’s first dedicated public Russian-language television channel, begins full service in September with 20 hours a week of factual and entertainment programming. Its representatives, such as channel head Darja Saar, were answering questions from all-comers about what it meant for Estonia, and why the station had been set up.

The positive PR campaign for the service, which will produce original programming in Estonia bringing news content, along with items such as a drama series, was led by Saar and Communications Manager Anastasia Dratsova. As the Arvamus Festival is a meeting-point for all those who like to consider issues, regardless of their background or interest, it makes it the perfect place for such a charm offensive.

3. Connecting with the Heart

“It’s the heart of Estonia.” I was told this about ten times by people I questioned about what was so special about Paide. The town, which hosts the Arvamus Festival up on Vallimägi, is loved by all visitors, especially on a blazing-hot summer’s day. There seems to be a special atmosphere of togetherness hereDSCF1669, which makes it so much easier to relax, unwind and enjoy calm deliberation of the issues not just of the mind, but also of the heart.

It’s also a place where the best of Estonian culture comes to play. Tallinn’s best jazz club, Philly Joe’s, which often hosts artists of the calibre of Liisi Koikson, Holger Marjamaa and Laura and Joel Remmel, has brought a selection of great musicians to the festival. They lit up lunchtime with their smooth brand of virtuoso playing.

4. Connecting with the Stomach

While listening to the music from Philly Joe’s, I sampled some of the excellent food on offer around the central courtyard of the Arvamus Festival grounds. Tallinn’s Kohvik Inspiratsioon, a vegetarian cafe of some repute, brought its cooks and service staff to Arvamus, and I ordered the veggie burger, purely for reasons of taste-testing, you understand.

The wholemeal bread used to wrap the burger was crusty and sturdy, even with a sizeable cut of cucumber and tomato inside. The burger was of course healthy, especially as it did not contain any dressing – the burger being made from a very tangy beetroot mix that more than provided enough flavour.

Inspiratsioon did indeed provide inspiration to continue my hunting of great events, though it still left an old-fashioned carnivore like me craving a juicy hamburger. It must be said, though, that the veggie burger, made with love, represents great value at €4.

5. Much More than Just Politics

Someone said before the festival, explaining why he would not be attending, “it’s just politics, though, isn’t it?” Er, no. The hundreds of events and talks cover everything from Estonian food, to why Estonia does not yet have an internationally-recognised crime novelist.

The search for the Estonian export star who could be a new Steig Larsson continues, but at the stage sponsored by Rahva Raamat, keen readers were given the chance to recline in the most comfortable bean-bags you can imagine, and listen to talented authors such as Indrek Hargla discuss their work, and the future of Estonian literature.

Meanwhile, students from Estonian high schools all over the country taking part in the Our New Media Generation project in association with the Ministry of Education and the website etnoweb.ee were given the chance to go out, gain some experience and confidence, and do some reporting from the festival.

Fotograaf Sven Tupits (Fotogeen.com )

You’ve arrived at the Arvamus Festival, and you’re excited about what you’re about to see, but what should you be looking out for in particular? Allow us to guide you through some of the best talks we’ve found over the next two days.