THE WEATHER WHEN I arrive in Tallinn can’t quite reach a decision. As I amble around the walled medieval Old Town of the Estonian capital with my guide for the day, Mari Toom, the sun and the clouds grapple. When we reach a lookout point, the sun gets an advantage and lights up the red tile roofs and painted buildings, and the steeples, spires, and domes that define Tallinn. A gloom hangs over the Baltic Sea in the distance, and a shower begins to fall, but the sun holds on, the rain glistens in its beams and a sparkling rainbow comes between them.
“In South Africa,” I say, “when there’s sun and rain at the same time, they call it a monkey’s wedding.”
“In Estonia,” responds Mari, “they call it summer.”
IN 2020, THE country concluded a three-year celebration marking 100 years of statehood, although during that century it was occupied by Germany during the Second World War and then annexed by the Soviet Union until 1991. It was a grim interruption during which Estonia as a country was literally wiped off the map. Now, Estonians want