No doubt you are back at work, hoping or thinking that the events of Riga’s Friendship Days will soon be a thing of the past, overtaken by the next political scandal or sensational corruption trial. For me, however, a bit of distance from the raw emotion of the events has provided a time to reflect on what we have seen, and the past few days have only brought these events closer. Riga, and all those in Latvia and around the world who were watching, saw some appalling and shameful acts that will be hard to forget. Whether there or not, we have all been inundated with the images and coverage of the siege of the Reval hotel on Saturday afternoon. Having participated in most of the events of the week, however, the event that is most central in my mind is ultimately one of the least visible—the Anglican service which took place on Saturday morning.

Early that morning, having made our way through the largely empty streets of the old town, around fifty people, including families and individuals of all ages, crowded into the Anglican church. Except for the colorful wreath in the front of the church, and the fact that three priests said the mass, the service was like any other that takes place in countless churches across the world as a group of people gather together to worship and celebrate their belief and love of God and to affirm themselves as a community. When the service concluded, the priests asked the congregation to exit the church to avoid a group of men who had been spotted gathered angrily in the front of the church. Half of us had exited when a group of around ten to twelve men swung from the front entrance to the back and began to verbally insult the churchgoers. Shortly thereafter, one individual reached into his shoulder bag and threw a small plastic bag at the priest. The priest dodged the missile and the stench emanating from the bag as it hit the ground made it evident that it was full of shit. Soon, other assailants were laughing, yelling, and throwing eggs and shit at the members of the church gathering. Some of us who were taking pictures of the men as they assaulted the group were shoved and pushed around. After about ten to fifteen minutes of this assault, as the men presumably ran out of ammunition, and since none of the members of the congregation retaliated, they made their way back to the front of the church and into two waiting cars. It was at this point that a police car finally arrived and it was at this point that I left the scene, shaken, covered in shit and eggs and eager to move on.

I have since washed my clothes twice and taken countless showers and baths. The smell of shit continues to linger, however, and my shoes and clothes may have to be thrown away. Much from the event still lingers in my mind as well. The raw hatred and insults that these attackers showered onto other men, women, and children. The aggressor who not only joyfully filmed the event but was wearing a red shirt which visibly and loudly proclaimed him to be a “defender of marriage.” (I and many of the people attending the service are married and have children and it seems the only thing under attack and in need of defense were the church members themselves.) But, mostly, I wonder how another human being can throw shit at another human being? In fact, I cannot stop thinking about this.

On Sunday someone asked me what our group did to provoke those who threw shit at us. I was stunned by the question. Ultimately, since no one from our church service either spoke to or physically had contact with any of the assailants, the answer to that question can only come from those who attacked the church members, and I suspect it is not as simple as the fact that we have a difference of opinion on the rights of homosexuals. Though I cannot answer that question, directly, it did make me wonder what it would mean to provoke someone to literally throw their shit at you? After all, if everyone in Latvia emptied out their purse or backpack at this very moment, how many of them would contain bags of shit and eggs which would be carried—of course—in the event that someone should provoke a person to use them as projectile objects? This got me thinking both about what it literally means to have a bag of shit in your backpack and the kind of individual who would carry such a bag.

Can you imagine—I think it is important to in fact try and imagine this—what this means step by step. One, asking your wife or husband, your children, perhaps your mother to shit into plastic bags for a week. Two, when enough shit has been collected, getting a drinking glass from the kitchen, filling it with water, and then mixing the water with the shit until somehow the mix seems perfect for making as large a splash as possible. Three, having you and your family seal the bags and then storing these smaller plastic bags into another larger bag for transport. Four, loading these bags into your car. Five, picking up your friends and their bags full of their family’s shit. Six, driving the shit-filled car to a church where men, women, and children of all ages have just finished a service. Seven, carefully aiming the bags of shit and throwing them at the members of the congregation as they exit church. Eight, filming the event so that, presumably, grandma, the wife, and the kids will be able to see where their gastric efforts have landed. Finally, having a good laugh all the while, from step one to the end.

Of course, this is probably not exactly how you go about making a shit bomb. I have probably missed a step here or there, or added another, but, then again, up until Saturday I did not think it conceivable that a human being would put their shit in a bag and throw it at another human being. Since this has only recently entered the realm of the possible for me, I hasten to think what else may be teetering at the brink of moving from the realm of the impossible to reality in Latvia. Maybe next time it won’t be eggs and shit but stones that are thrown? Maybe next time it won’t be shit but blood that I might have to wash off my shirt. Perhaps this seems sensationalist and too extreme, yet, judging by the graffiti that has cropped up in the city in the last few months, at least some in our society have already envisioned the death of other members of our society as acceptable.

A lot of talk of morality and amorality, of homosexual men and women as pederasts unfit to be parents was heard this week. In the end, however, what we all undeniably witnessed was a community built on hatred and fear which, spurred on by many politicians and church leaders (and, more importantly, by the silence of other politicians, church leaders, the police, and society in general), verbally abused and attempted to intimidate another group of people, proudly threw shit and eggs, and on one occasion attempted to run a car off the road. While many of the individuals who perpetrated these acts of hatred spoke of family values, they nonetheless outfitted themselves and their families—including young children—with t-shirts depicting crudely drawn stick figures engaging in an explicit sexual act. And, having witnessed old women in these shirts passing out flyers against Pride to kids in the park, there is no doubt in my mind that they hope your children will see these images as well. It is, thus, doubly ironic in my mind that this black and red “logo” has become the ubiquitous poster for the week’s events. After all, given their actions, it is fitting that these groups choose the motto “No Pride” to advertise their point of view. Certainly, it takes someone who has no pride and no shame to act as they did. Given that it takes quite a bit of planning and preparation to assault other human beings with bags of shit, the claim that these acts were somehow provoked by those who participated in the events of Riga Friendship Days is simply unsupportable. The actions of those who opposed the Friendship Days events betray their hollow rhetoric.

After all, one of the messages that was constantly heard from protesters of the Pride Parade was that Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender members of society should keep their activities private and not be allowed to march through public space. Apparently, despite the fact that Latvia proclaims itself a democracy, it was only the groups in opposition to the Pride Parade which were allowed to occupy public space. Ultimately, given the adverse ruling of the Riga City Council and the court, all events of Riga Friendship Days were held outside of public space and in private property. Although this fulfilled one of the central demands of protesters, the protesters nonetheless decided that even this was unacceptable and decided to vandalize a church, historic buildings in the old town, a hotel, and private vehicles, not to mention attacking any individuals perceived to be part of these private events.

Sadly, while some things were violently and publicly rendered visible this week, other more positive messages remained private and out of sight. While the focus of the media remained squarely on the most confrontational aspects of the week, important aspects of the Riga Friendship Days were missed. From Mozaika’s call for the building of a true democracy in Latvia with equal rights for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgendered members of society, to the sense of community which emanated both from the intimate church service to the larger Pride gatherings, much remains to be made public about the events of the last week. Hopefully the media, and forums such as the internet, will address this imbalance in the coming weeks.

Ultimately, what can one conclude from the events of this week? For myself, the most important is that, given that just about everyone does not have shit in their backpacks or purses, and given that the size of the crowd which gathered outside of the Reval hotel was violent and loud but in the end proportionally very, very small, ultimately these hateful acts do not and cannot represent the majority of Latvians. That does not mean, however, that these are marginal groups by any stretch of the imagination. These are, after all, our neighbors, our colleagues at work, people who attend the same cinemas, restaurants, and churches as we do. Moreover, some of the most vocal supporters and leaders of these organizations include high and low level politicians. And, while both those who physically perpetrate hate crimes and those who verbally encourage them must be held accountable, in the end it is not simply the vast silence or lack of condemnation of these acts by other politicians and leaders of society which allows them to continue. It is, rather, the silent acceptance of the majority that enables these acts of hatred.

With important elections set for later this year, politicians who have chosen to vocally support and lead the groups who espouse these horrendous acts are counting on a perceived notion of Latvians as being generally against homosexuals. I believe they—and those politicians who have remained audibly silent—may have miscalculated the makeup of the Latvian population. In the end, these upcoming elections have become a referendum on whether or not each and every one of us supports and condones one human being throwing shit at another. My vote is clear, I only hope that come October I can be proud of Latvians and will not have to hang my head in shame.