June 2006

Well, the two travelling Barbies regaled us with stories of their adventures in Sicily at dinner. Barbie 1, of course, has been in Italy since January [Firenze], whereas her sister, Barbie 2, went down to meet her for the last two weeks of her stay there, they travelled around in Sicily a bit, and then they flew back home together. And I shall forthwith stop calling them Barbie, a) because [despite that adorable comment on the bus] neither one really has anything in common with the measurement-challenged icons that more often than not wind up dismembered at the bottom of a toy box and b) because my friend Greavsie has duly appropriated the name for his two daughters and I wish to avoid any confusion.

So I shall call them by their real names, or Ó and Á, respectively. Unsurprisingly, Ó was the subject of much attention in dark-skinned, dark-haired Italy; in fact, by her own account, people unashamedly gaped and gawked and groped [especially her hair] whenever she passed by, to the point that it was absolutely insufferable. She’s got the blondest hair you’ve ever seen – it’s almost white and it’s completely natural. She thinks people in southern Italy were convinced she was an albino – such were the stares, “like I was some kind of freak!” [And although there are many photographs that would support this theory, she does have very blue eyes.] And while Á&Ó thought Sicily was one of the most beautiful places they had ever seen, it was barely tolerable for the two of them because they moment they stepped outside they were harassed continually. They didn’t dare to venture outside by themselves in the evenings, for example – which can kind of put a damper on your holiday.

Anyway. The best story at dinner was one that Á told, of when they went up the slopes of Mt. Edna and had to wait around three hours before they could go back down. To them, going up a volcanic mountain – even one as famous as Edna – was a pretty ho-hum experience, sort of like walking up on Grábrók [a well known crater here in Niceland that everybody walks up onto but which really is pretty unexciting.] Their guide was this old, toothless Sicilian [well no, actually he had a total of five teeth, three in the lower gum and two in the top, and happily the teeth in the top gum fit perfectly into the gap in the lower gum – and what more do you need?], who came to sit at their table while they were waiting and ingratiated himself with conversation that went something like this:

OLD TOOTHLESS SICILIAN: Where are you girls from?
Á: Iceland
OTS: Iceland! [pause] I have only met one other person from Iceland.
Á&Ó: Oh?
OTS: Yes, it was in London many years ago [leaning over – confidential] and I must tell you… I made love to her.
Á&Ó: [recoil]
OTS: Yes, and I didn’t enjoy it very much. You see, she was very drunk.

The conversation continued along those lines, and incorporated leering comments about breasts etcetera, which I shall omit here in the interests of decency.

Another good story was this: Á&Ó enter an elevator in the hotel, occupied by a delightfully polite and friendly English couple.

ENGLISH COUPLE: Oh, hello!
Á&Ó: Hello!
ENGLISH COUPLE: [smiling] Oh, such lovely girls.
Ó: [thinking the English couple said ‘Oh, such a lovely day’ – fanning herself] Yes, and so HOT!

[Silence]

MEANWHILE, THE WEATHER
Raining! Not that we have cause to complain [much] because we’ve had a couple of fine days now – sunny and mild. Temps right now 10°C and sunrise was at 02.56 while sunset is in about 15 minutes, at 24.04.

Hey! It’s that night again when the cows start talking and the seals start stripping and folks get naked and roll around in the dew.

That’s right: It’s Midsummer Night in Niceland!

AND OUR MIDSUMMER WEATHER IS…
Oooh, it’s been bee-ootiful today. Brilliant sunshine - if a little cool, what with the wind coming off the sea. But! Down on Laugavegur [main strip] the Icelanders and tourists mingled, EPI and YT sat at an outdoor café and then YT and AAH went and had ice cream and froze our buns off because the truth is that - shhh! - it never really gets warm in the west end of Reykjavík on account of the sea and the breeze an’ that. No time to blog, so am shamelessly recycling old posts, temps 10°C and sunrise and sunset were around the same time as yesterday.

This is what the sunset looked like at midnight last night - the summer solstice, longest day of the year. A couple of minutes later it had dipped below the horizon, where it would hover before rising again just three hours later. Because the sun never really goes far below that point, it doesn’t get dark up here at this time of year. Think this photo, minus the bright glow, and you have an approximation of how dark it becomes.

THE SUN HAS NOT YET LEFT US…
And just this morning I cycled out to where I took that photo last night. It was beautiful, brilliant sunshine, crystalline light, a cool refreshing breeze coming off the ocean. Weatherman sez we’re in for showers again later today, so best to enjoy this brief respite from the rain while we can. Temps right now are 10°C and sunrise this morning was at 02.55 while sunset will be at 24.05 tomorrow.

In my play-by-play June 17 post I forgot to mention a highly significant event: Iceland played a handball game against Sweden and lost by one goal. However! Something about points and previous wins and yick and yack [I shall never understand the intricacies of sport and tournaments and championships] meant that despite losing, they will pass through to the World Championships being held… where? when? I don’t know. But soon. And somewhere.

You may not know this, but handball is a major sport in Iceland. Probably because it’s one of the few competitive ball sports that you can play indoors and as you will know or can surmise, the Icelandic outdoor-sports-playing-season is blink-and-you’ll-miss-it short. Evidently, there has been some sort of long-term contention between Iceland and Sweden [although I wonder whether Sweden even knows about this] because the Icelanders see the Swedes as their arch-nemesis in sport, spawning the term Svíagrýla - or, roughly translated, the ‘Swedish bogeyman’. [Those of you who have been paying attention will recall that Grýla is the ogre that resides in the mountains, is the mother of the Icelandic Yule Lads and eats children when they’re naughty.]

So you can believe that the Icelandic nation was more than a little chuffed to have beaten the hell out of [yeah, right!] the Svíagrýla last weekend. Prompting this delightful commentary from the Blaðið cartoonist:

Here we have the coach of the Icelandic handball team sitting atop the roughed-up and mangled Swedish bogeyman, with Iceland’s new Prime Minister standing off to the side and declaring:

“The Office of the Prime Minister thanks you for taking down the Svíagrýla and requests that you now take down the following enemies of Iceland…”

[Document]

ENEMIES OF ICELAND

1. The inflation monster
2. Robbie Williams*
3. The goddamn Swede who ruled that Víkingur should be eliminated in the European Handball Championships in 1979 after a spectacular win over Ystad
4. All communists**
5. Faroese pirates

* When Robbie Williams came to play a concert here a few years ago he incurred the wrath of the Icelandic nation by telling news reporters at the airport to fuck
off, giving them the finger, and then proceeding to behave in a rude and unpleasant manner for the duration of his stay
** This government reveres capitalism and is the major supporter of aluminium smelters in Iceland - need I say more?

THE WEATHER
I could hardly believe my eyes this morning when I got up - SUNSHINE outside! Yes dear readers, after suffering rain, drizzle, clouds, downpours, etc. for A Very Long Time, the Icelandic nation is finally blessed with one day of sunshine before the rain returns - tomorrow. Temps are currently 11°C and today is the solstice, which means this is the longest day of the year, with the sun coming up at 02.54 and going down at 24.05.

AND our very own Barbie is returning home today after a six-month stint in Italy and we can’t wait to see her. Whoo-hoo!

Iceland is the fifth richest country in Europe, according to a new list prepared by the Norwegian Statistics Bureau. First comes Luxembourg, then Norway, Ireland, Switzerland, and then our very own Blue Isle.

I wonder if it has anything to do with this. In which case it’s hardly worth it.

STILL RAINING
Yes. I’m starting to despair of seeing the sun ever again. We’re in for rain all day today, although at the moment it’s really nothing to speak of, just a few drops. Slight winds from the north. Temps 10°C and the sun came up in the capital at 02.54 and will set at 24.04. And note: it’s the solstice tomorrow!

I’d like to tell you we got all patriotic yesterday for National Day, rose early to be at Austurvöllur square at 10.40 to witness the laying of the wreath at the statue of Jón Sigurðsson, that we then listened to the new Prime Minister give his first Important Speech since taking office, and that we then sat breathlessly and waited to see which fair young actress would have the honour of being the fjallkona [Woman of the Mountains] this year.* I’d like to tell you that we then went and attended the church service at Dómkirkjan, and following that headed up to wherever the parade sets out to parade down to wherever the parade finishes, waving our Icelandic flags, our hearts swelling with nationalistic pride while the marching brass band belted out those glory-glory Icelandic songs up front. That we then went home for a wee rest before returning downtown to take part in all the festivities: concerts all over, performers performing, people carousing, families strolling, kids jumping and playing and teenagers doing whatever it is that teenagers do.

But… we didn’t.

There has been much lamenting of late that the current generation in Iceland attaches no real significance to 17. júní – the day on which Iceland celebrates its independence. EPI says that he can remember being dressed in his very best clothes [matrósarföt – what are they called in English?] and going downtown and buying ice cream on this day. Myself, I have vague memories of marching in the parade in Reykjavík dressed in my little Icelandic national costume and waving a flag, ending up down at Lækjartorg square where there was inevitably lots of stuff going on, including things on a stage, and meeting lots of people we knew. There was palpable excitement and a sense of immense joy and promise in the air. All because Iceland was a free and independent nation.

Later, when I was a teen and came to Iceland only during the summers, there was a whole different kind of excitement surrounding June 17 as it took on new significance as a major party night, almost as major as New Years Eve. Concerts everywhere, kids wandering around in groups, flirting, thrills. June 17 was the night everyone looked forward to.

But yesterday – we did none of that stuff. We just got up just in time to catch some of the 10.40 am festivities on TV. After breakfast I cleaned the floors [yes] while EPI sorted through some of his stuff in anticipation of THE PEOPLE** arriving. We then went to EPI’s sisters’ place for coffee and cake – it was her birthday the previous day and there’s a long standing tradition of the family getting together on June 17, which is very nice. After coffee and cake [and a wee glass of wine] we went home and barbecued a leg of lamb and drank some more wine and I had a nasty argument with AAH over her curfew, which ended with her depositing the laptop in my room before storming out the door [as in: she knows she loses laptop privileges when she breaks the rules, so the message was clear – ‘here is the damn laptop, because I plan to break the rules.’ Audacious, no?]***

So not a single foray downtown all day long, not even in the evening to have a boo at the drunken crowds. Wondering whether we’re getting so unbelievably boring, or so unbelievably old, or so unbelievably unpatriotic. Or whether we’ve just figured out that there really isn’t all that much excitement downtown on June 17 after all.

THE WEATHER IS PATRIOTIC AS EVER
And right now we have… no rain. It has just stopped. It may interest you to know [as it interested me] that June 3 is the only day this month in which there has been no rain. It has rained every single day apart from that. And the Icelandic populace is getting ever-so-slightly-tired of it, as witnessed by the long faces and grim complaining and, most significantly, all trips to southern Europe quickly selling out. It’s overcast and temps at the moment are 10°C, sunrise was at 02.55 while sunset is at 24.03.

* This was the first time ever that there were two fjallkonur – one who read the poem [there’s always a poem] and another to interpret it in sign language.
** These are the people we’re exchanging homes with when we go away. AAH calls them THE OTHERS
*** Please somebody tell me this puberty business will be over soon – please?

… Oh right. Before my Internet service went AWOL I had a post all written up [especially for Teri, who isn’t studying cultural anthropology but probably should be] giving more intriguing details of Icelanders’ relationship with the sea. To wit:

They say that Eskimos have an inordinate number of words for ‘snow’ and similarly the Icelandic language has many words for and references to the sea. Sjór, haf, ægir, mar, sær… all mean ‘ocean’ in Icelandic. Similarly, many people’s names are drawn from the sea [so to speak]: Sævar, Hafþór, Ægir, Margeir… [plus some more that I can’t remember, for men] and Unnur, Rán, Sæunn, Hafdís, Særún, Sædís… [plus some more, for women], not to mention both Alda [yes, as in Kalda] and Bára, which both mean ‘wave’.

In the west end of Reykjavík, near the harbour [and also near where I live], is an area with a lot of stately old homes. The streets there all bear names reminiscent of the sea: Öldugata, Bárugata, Ægisgata, Ránargata, Stýrimannastígur. This is the area known as ‘Skipstjórahverfið’ or the ‘captain’s neighbourhood’ because it is where the first sea captains built their homes.

Early last century, Iceland obtained its first ocean liners [than incidentally were all named after Icelandic waterfalls: Gullfoss, Dettifoss, Goðafoss, Tröllafoss, Fjallfoss… foss meaning ‘waterfall’ in Icelandic…] and to be a captain of such a liner was a highly prestigious position, one of the highest positions you could have in Iceland at the time. Captains travelled to faraway places and had access to a wealth of goods that the regular proletariat could only dream about. They also earned well. And built houses for themselves of a stature that at the time had rarely been seen in this country.

My great-grandfather was one of those. He built a house on Öldugata, which literally translated means ‘wave street’ [or ‘Alda’s street’, as the case may be, because if you remember your Icelandic lesson ‘Öldu’ is ‘Alda’ when conjugated into a different case]. He also named his daughter Alda – my grandmother, after whom I am named. I am lucky enough to have inherited some things from my grandmother that he brought her from various capitals of the world.

When I moved back to Iceland twelve years ago, I bought a flat on Bárugata [also ‘wave street’], which happened to overlook the next street, which was Öldugata. I lived on the top floor of a four-storey building, with a stupendous view of the sea, mountains, Snæfellsjökull glacier, and the endless sky with its magnificent sunsets in the west. I loved that flat, I loved being home, and I loved living on ‘wave street’. And when it came time to move, there was no question that we would stay in the area – the part of Reykjavík that probably has the closest proximity – and the strongest relationship – with the sea.

AGAIN IT IS RAINING…
And the forecast is for more rain still. Which is unfortunate since tomorrow is National Day with all its wild and crazy celebrations. Who will be Maid of the Mountains this year? How many helium balloons will unwittingly be released into the sky by toddlers with a loose grip? And how many adolescents will be picked up for drunken carousing? Ah, the joys. Temps currently 9°C, sunrise was at 02.56 and sunset is due for 24.02

You wouldn’t believe the farce that played itself out chez YT yesterday.

It all started last weekend when the telephone lines started acting funky. There was this ghoulish buzzing on them, as though some ancient poltergeist was striving to communicate with YT and her kin, sometimes accompanied by a dialtone and sometimes not. Similarly the Internet connection was not working as it should – at times excruciatingly slow, at other times non-existent.

Turns out there was work being done down at the corner on some decades-old wiring. I noticed they had been digging in the dirt for some weeks down there and that a few days ago someone had pitched a white tent over the hole. According to Iceland Telecom they were replacing the antiquiated connector box with a new one. Then on Monday came an announcement: our phone lines [and DSL service, of course] would be inactive from 9.30 yesterday morning onward, thoughout the day.

So, no getting online for our YT yesterday. Which was rather unfortunate, as am in the midst of copyediting a magazine that is approaching a deadline and am constantly sending documents back and forth. Nothing to be done, though, except to keep checking the phone to see if we were up and running. Finally, at around 3pm, it was back on. However, there was no DSL.

At that point I had to go out, and returned just after 6. The first thing I asked AAH on arriving home was whether the DSL line was back on. It wasn’t. So I did the logical thing: sauntered off down to the corner to have a word with the Iceland Telecom guys.

They were just packing up and getting into their van. Two of them.

YT: [arriving at van] Hi. So… what’s the status? I have no DSL service.
Iceland Telecom Guy: [looking ever-so slightly alarmed] Oh? Erm… what’s your phone number?
YT: [gives phone number. ITG makes note as other ITG gets out of the van and makes for the tent. Slowly.]
ITG: [Clearly wanting nothing more than to finish for the day] Erm… have you tried restarting your wireless router?
YT: No, I haven’t.
ITG: Try restarting the router. That often helps.
YT: [suspicious] Really? Will that fix it?
ITG: Oh, sure. It often does. And try restarting your computer, too.

So YT blithely returns home and restarts the router. Nothing. Restarts the computer. Nothing. Gets on the blower and calls tech help at Og Vodafone.*

Tech help: Og Vodafone tech help, how can I help?
YT: […help!]

So Og Vodafone tech help – which incidentally is always supremely helpful – tries everything to get the damn router to connect to the DSL line. Computer settings, restarting, restarting their central services, measuring the strength of my telephone line, etc. etc. Yet curiously, no matter how often I restarted the router, it didn’t seem to be calling in to the central port, they said. In the end, after a futile search for the problem, the Og Vodafone techie guy gave up and delivered to YT the sorry news that the router must be defective.

Just then, who should arrive home but AAH [she’d gone out in the meantime]. Hearing what her mother was up to, she was suddenly reminded of a most intriguing and oh-so significant piece of information.

AAH: We have somebody else’s phone number.
YT: […]?
AAH: Yeah, I called [friend] today and she was like, “Where are you calling from” and I was like “Home” and she was like, “But that’s not your phone number.”
YT: […]

So long story short, Laurel and Hardy down there in the tent had clearly just had a bunch of wires hanging out from the old box and, not knowing where they belonged, decided just to stick them anywhere, hoping nobody would notice.

You can believe that our YT was pretty livid at that point. Which meant it was time to call Iceland Telecom.

Iceland Telecom Tech Help: [sullen voice] Iceland Telecom tech help.
YT: [explains what the geniuses down in the tent have done.]
ITTH: [Laughs.]

Laughs!!!

YT: [voice like death] I’d like this to be fixed right now.
ITTH: Sorry, that’s not going to be possible. All the technicians have gone home.

[Shall I spare you the details of what ensued? I think I shall. Suffice it to say that I spewed venom for about half an hour. Consider: I had someone elses’ phone number. So presumably someone else had mine. And that someone else could very well have called, oh, say… Japan, and talked for the entire evening. Or even just somebody’s cell phone at the fricking 20 odd-kronur per minute that it costs to call a cell phone with another phone company. For fuck’s sake. I mean, had Iceland fricking Telecom been a proper service company, or been located in, oh, say the United States, they would probably have got someone out there immediately and fixed their own mess. But… no. Here in Iceland, they laugh.]

Surprisingly enough, no amount of ranting could convince those $#*&%* at Iceland Telecom to call out emergency services to fix the problem. Well they could – they very graciously informed me – but YT would then have to foot the bill. [Damn, I get so agitated just thinking about it I could seriously break something!] In the end it was Og Vodafone [my heroes] who came to the rescue and said they would not charge me for any calls during the time that this seriously major cock-up was in effect, and that they would moreover would forward all calls to my home number to my cell phone.

But the best was yet to come. In the midst of cooking dinner, the phone rang. EPI and I looked at each other.

I was the one to pick up. “Hello?”

There was a pause on the other end. Then the caller hung up.

A minute later, it rang again. Again it was YT who picked up.

YT: Hello?
Caller: Who is this?
YT: Are you calling for Anna**?
C: Yes.
YT: [explains situation]
C: Well, I’m Anna.
YT: Oh. Hi. I’m the person who has your phone number now. Presumably you have mine?
C: I have somebody’s number who hasn’t paid their bill, because the number is closed. When I try to make a call, I get a recorded message saying I have to pay the bill to have the phone opened again. [pause] Is your number closed?
YT: [indignant] No, my number is not closed!
C: Well, then somebody else has your number.

Yes, dear readers, such was the farce that played itself out chez YT last night. I was left high and dry without an Internet connection [no amount of jonesing for a signal delivered results, despite there being dozens of wireless connections in the vicinity – all security-enabled] and as I write this, at 10.40 the next morning, it is still the case. About an hour ago I went down to the corner and yelled at some jerk in the pup tent who yelled back, pointing his finger threateningly and shouting, ‘Don’t you yell at me!’ Who knows if I shall ever be able to get online again in my own home [yes I do despair, yes I do] but if I do you can bet I shall be posting this and urging everyone who may be reading this and who is a subscriber with Iceland Telecom to switch over to Og Vodafone right now because Iceland Telecom is shite. Oh and congratulations to all who have managed to get to the end of this rant which I do believe is the longest blog post I have ever written. Oh yes, the weather is rainy and blustery and Laurel, Hardy and co. were looking snug as bugs in their pup tent with a heater and everything. Just like camping. I’m only surprised they weren’t also playing cards and drinking beer. And cooking marshmallows.

* It’s like this: a few years ago, Iceland Telecom was a state-owned company and had a monopoly on all telephone services in the country. When new regulations were passed, new telephone companies sprung up, one of which is Og Vodafone. However, Iceland Telecom still own and are responsible for the basic infrastructure. Unfortunately, as this little anecdote illustrates.

** I had been told the name of the person whose phone number I had. Anna is a pseudonym, though.

NB: Posted at a wireless hotspot in downtown Reykjavík at 15.01 pm. Argh!!

Today is Seafarer’s Day, which is a pretty big deal here in Iceland. Since 1987 it’s been an officially designated holiday for everyone who works on fishing vessels, meaning that all ships, insofar as possible,* must be in the harbour on this day. All around the country there are celebrations, events, speeches, dances, etc. going on, most notably in and around the country’s harbours.

EPI tells me that in rural areas, in the small villages that revolve almost exclusively around fishing, this day has traditionally been the big event of the year [well next to, maybe, Christmas and Easter – but certainly bigger than National Day, which is on 17 June]. For once, on this day, all the men were home with their families, and there were all the aforementioned celebrations [and probably a lot of drinking and carousing]. In Reykjavík, Seafarer’s Day has been expanded into a weekend-long festival called Festival of the Sea, with a carnival-type atmosphere down at the harbour.

Meanwhile, a place on a fishing vessel has never been more coveted. According to a recent survey, 84% of seamen are satisfied in their job and see it as a future career. They get special tax breaks [pay considerably less than the rest of us], and if you’re lucky enough to land a place on a ship with a high catch you’ll have an excellent salary. Fishermen get paid fixed wages plus a commission from the earnings of the catch, which is a pretty good percentage for the lowest ranking position and then rises in increments, so that an average salary for a regular fisherman can be around ISK 1 million in a good month [USD 13,500 / GBP 7,300]. Today’s fishing trawlers are like four-star hotels, with top facilities: rooms with ensuite bathrooms, gymnasiums, libraries, DVD and video libraries, sun benches, top chefs on board, etc. The work is demanding, certainly, and you have to be in good physical condition [and presumably not prone to seasickness], but gone are the days of extreme cold and hardship and work around the clock – there are fixed shifts now and while there may be extended periods away from the family, fishermen get good breaks in between.

Obviously there are risks involved – the weather can turn bad and crashing waves can pull seamen overboard, and of course there is heavy machinery on board that can be dangerous. Sadly – and somewhat ironically – the luxurious facilities can also pose a threat. Just a couple of weeks ago, fire broke out on a trawler from Akureyri that was out at sea, with the result that two crew members died. The fire, it turned out, started in one of the sun benches on board. Consequently, celebrations in Akureyri were subdued today and some events were cancelled, as a loss of that sort leaves a painful mark on a small community.

Just as an aside, the notorious independence and self-assurance of Icelandic women is almost certainly a result of the fishing-based society, as they necessarily had to hold the home and everything together while their men were away for extended periods. Indeed I could probably write long a dissertation on the psychological make-up of this nation as a result of being a fishing-based society – but not today.

IT RAINED ON THEIR PARADE…
…and rained, and rained. In fact, the heavens opened with a torrential downpour today – hence there was a rather poor turnout at the harbour and the Minister of Fisheries made a speech in front of only a few hardy souls that huddled together beneath their umbrellas. It’s been pretty warm in the past few days with a certain humidity in the air that we northerners usually only associate with foreign countries. It’s stopped raining now, and temps are 11°C, the sun came up at 03.02 and will go down at 23.54.

* Some trawlers will be out fishing for months at a time and in those instances, of course, they don’t always make it home for this day.