Fire

At the same time as the most recent Saturday afternoon protest rally, 8,000 souls strong, a fire burst out in an abandoned house on my street.

I won't, just don't have the energy, to go into the whole bureaucratic shenanigans surrounding this house in the recent years, like the owner being granted a permit to tear down which the neighborhood cottage society challenged even though the house is infested with little cement beetles because they didn't like the owner's plans to raise the height of the new structure he had approved by the city to the same height as the building next to it so instead it's been an eyesore, all beaten up and tagged, and has been used as a flop and a squat that all the local kids knew about and now its even uglier just when its very likely that the owner will no longer be able to finance teardown and reconstruction and all because some people think anything built pre-WWII has automatic cultural value.

But whatever, I'm not going to go into it.

Boot

Someone told me about an interview held with an elderly Icelander where the topic turned to the subject of the most important innovation to come to the island in the 20th century. The interviewee, in her eighties, pondered the question for a while then announced that the thing that most changed the lives of Icelanders in the past one hundred years were rubber boots. For the first time in a millenia Icelanders had dry feet all year round.

In these complicated times it's sometimes good to remember the simple things in life.

Please take a look at Iceland Eyes' sister site, Iceland Says, with new posts by Reykjavik college students every day for the next few weeks. Comments are always welcome!

p.s. this photo was taken by Valentina Jóhannsdóttir, my daughter.

Hanged

As reluctant as I am to break up the comment flow from the previous post, it is time to add a new image.

Today a group of my college students are sitting in class writing short essays on the state of the nation, in English, that will eventually be posted on Iceland Eye's sister site, Iceland Says. They are writing, as one student put it, letters to the world. I'll try to get them up as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I'd just like to say that we are not huddled around the last remnants of a dying fire here on the island. Though imports have slowed to a near stop from Great Britain, we still have food and other necessities to keep us going. I played this NPR story in class and it made me a little uncomfortable if only because the Icelander being interviewed slips into the classic national habit of using superlatives, of exaggerating for what seems like simple effect. We have gone from being one of the wealthiest nations on earth, she says, to being mere beggars. Are we beggars? Do we feel like beggars, deep in the national soul? Does she see herself as a downtrodden, homeless, luckless panhandler when alone, or is she simply describing her country as such on an international media source for the imagery, the pure conceit? We are not beaten, we are not indigent, but we did gamble with the big boys in the great global economic casino and we lost our shirts.

The interviewee also states that we cannot grow anything here but potatoes and sheep [sic] while I beg to differ. We have hothouses, friends, hothouses that are heated by means of the steam that rises from our earth, and in those hothouses we grow tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, bell peppers, lettuce and bananas. Rhubarb grows wild here and rutabagas and angelica and thyme and blueberries and there are more sheep here than people and we have pure fresh water running from mountain streams that we can dip our hands into and sip on site. We have horses, a beautiful and strong breed conditioned, created by this terrain and climate, as we Icelanders are ultimately, as well.

Some say wisdom is gained through sacrifice. But do we sacrifice our worldly aspirations or our cultural integrity?

We are survivors, adventurers, raiders. We are lusty, passionate, creative. We are molded by this landscape and are both strengthened and humbled by it. Now we have to excuse ourselves from gaming table with no shame for having played and lost (along with many others), assess the damages, and regroup for the next great effort.

To everyone who's asked, we are not broken. As things stand our lives go on almost as usual, as if we always knew the ride would end. It dawned on me last night that the past six years of unlimited economic potential felt just the same as all the hope we hold for the performers we send to Eurovision, or our athletes who make it to the Olympics. Anything can happen, we think. This might be our year! Maybe we've finally found the golden key to ultimate success! And then when our representatives flop or fail, are voted out or just don't make the cut, we pout and say to each other, but there's only so few of us, and we made it so far, and we should be proud, and we're all family, and, of course, there's always next year...

Frozen

Well, it's happened. Iceland has frozen. Last week in a literal sense, and this week in a more figurative, but just as real way. Our economy is collapsing, assets are unavailable, mass layoffs are in the works and we've managed to piss the British off in a big way. Our leaders have agreed to a major loan from Russia, if I remember correctly something in the way of 600 billion króna, or about 4 billion Euros ("The Russian ambassador to Iceland, Victor Tatarintsev, informed central bank governor David Oddsson early this morning that Russia would provide Iceland with the loan for three to five years at rates 30 to 50 points above Libor."). Construction workers are flocking to Norway and Sweden and grants, parties and ads once funded by our major banks are being cancelled.

Now we're trying to save face and remember all those tips and tricks our grandparents tried to teach us before we got all glassy-eyed with consumerism and the vacuous, instant gratification version of the capitalist dream.

Read more here.

Waking

I got two emails today asking for bits of advice:

Hi Maria,

you seem to have a child about the same age as mine (My daughter Liselotte is almost 2 years old). If yes, you might know some good spots to buy 2nd hand clothing for children in Reykjavik. I have spent all my money on getting to Iceland for our honeymoon end of october, so I will not be able to spend another fortune on souvenirs...

When I lived in Norway, I bought a lot at the Salvation Army shops. You mentioned the Salvation Army in your blog. Do they also sell childrens' clothing? Are there better places to go?

Are there any reasonable (icelandic/weather gear)clothing shops for
children?

In case you come to Berlin, I can supply you with some adresses here...

All the best from Berlin (Germany),

Uta

Well, Uta, there are a few second hand stores on Laugavegur, with the Red Cross being the least expensive by far. The other stores might have a few pieces for kids here and there, but are much more (fashionably) pricey. The Salvation Army shop that I mention in this post is also great place to find bargains, though it's a bit harder to locate (follow the directions on the linked post above.)

The second request is more complicated:

Hi Maria,

My husband and I made the trip from Manitoba, Canada to Iceland a couple years ago. During our trip, we could not let even one wonderful day go by without our daily dose of skyr. On our return home, we managed to source some local skyr from a grocery in Alborg, Manitoba. But now, my husband wants to make his own. We have attempted two batches, both dismal failures.

Our information on how to make skyr is only from online sources; the amount of conflicting information is astounding. Would you know of a
tried-and-true recipe that you could pass on to us? Thanks,

Laura

Anyone in the know?

Tunnel

Back in the days, when summertime still smiled upon us, before the autumn winds blew in and blew away the leaves and the chilly rains started to fall, a little trip was taken to a fjord just to the north and there I found a tunnel feeding a river out to the sea.

And here's a message I received today from Iceland Eyes reader Kylee:

I just returned from Iceland and brought some coffee back with me for my mom. She was in love with it and wants to order more, but I can't find anyone who carries it online. It is Merrild Malađ Međalristađ. I realize that it's not even an Icelandic brand, but does anyone have info on how I can get it online -- or if someone would be gracious enough to ship some to me in the States??

Thanks!

(She didn't drop her address, but I'm sure she will if anyone would like to hook her mom up with the stuff.)

Traveller

Here's an email I got from an Iceland Eyes reader. Does anyone have an answer for him?

We are flying from the US via Delta to Boston and then Icelandair to
Iceland. While Delta allows a 40 lb carry on Icelandair only allows 13 lb. Do you know or do you know of anyone I could talk to who has recently flown Icelandair to know if they weight carry on baggage from people who are transferring from one airline to theirs? I have never seen that happen anywhere else. Since our carry on weights 9 lb empty it seems worthless to bring it for 4 lbs of items.

Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks

Rick