August 2007

My diatribe a couple of years ago about the treatment Aron Pálmi Ágústsson got from the Texas authorities is easily the most controversial post I’ve written to date. For those who have just joined us, Aron Pálmi is a 22-year old man who moved to Texas with his mother as a child. When he was 11 or 12 he was caught in a sexual act with a younger boy, who was seven. Long story short, at the age of 13 Aron Pálmi was sentenced to ten years in prison by the State of Texas, part of which had to be served in a state penitentiary. No amount of efforts by the Icelandic authorities to have him brought home to Iceland to serve his sentence were successful.

In this part of the world, a child who is found guilty of sexually harassing or abusing another child needs help, not ten years in prison. Why anyone would consider that a sensible solution is absolutely beyond my realm of understanding. Not only do you virtually wipe out that child’s chances of maturing properly, you also set them up for abuse within the prison, which means they will probably come out far, far more damaged than they were when they went in. In other words, from a purely practical standpoint you’ll have a much bigger problem on your hands than you previously had.

As of last week, Aron Pálmi is a free man, having paid his ten years’ worth of flesh, as it were, to Texas. Unsurprisingly, the first thing he did after being released – apart from going to visit his mother – was to get the hell out of the United States. He’s back in Iceland now and plans to make a life for himself here. In an interview on Kastljós two nights ago he spoke about his offense, his conviction, his time in prison [it’s in English].

Now, I’m not naïve enough to believe everything I’m told and I’m aware that Aron Pálmi may be minimizing what actually happened with the younger kid – I honestly don’t know. To me, that’s not the point. The most significant thing to come out of that interview in my mind was what I’ve suspected all along – before committing the offense, Aron Pálmi himself was sexually abused, for two years, by a police officer who lived nearby. And because the abuser was a police officer, it was all the more confusing for the young child, who kept the abuse hidden. The sexual act with the younger child was a pure reenactment – Aron Pálmi was “showing” the other boy what the police officer had “shown” him.

The heartlessness and cruelty of a system that does not recognize that a child perpetrator is invariably also a victim makes my blood boil. I don’t understand it. I can’t get my mind around it. It’s so heartless that it scares the hell out of me. I have no doubts that Aron Pálmi has a shitload of stuff to work out before he can lead any semblance of a normal life. I hope he manages to pull through.

THE WEATHER IS WET AND DAMP
After a gorgeous start to the day – I went for a run along the seashore this morning in a warm[ish] haze – it clouded over and started to rain. That’s the outlook for the rest of the week, more or less. Right now 9°C [50F] and the sun came up at 5.57 am, and set at 8.59 pm.

INCIDENTALLY the search for the two German tourists was called off this weekend, after the two men were presumed dead. It was the most extensive rescue operation in years. Hundreds of search and rescue workers combed the glacier in the area where the two were believed to have traveled, under horribly difficult conditions – apparently the glacier was very slippery and this is the time of year when bottomless crevices can suddenly open up practically beneath your feet. Yesterday evening it was reported that the search had been resumed in a slightly different location, since new evidence has been discovered.

More as soon as I get organized.

PS. Weather was fantastic. Alveg eins og í útlöndum.*

* Very common Icelandic expression, meaning ‘just like it is abroad’. Because to Nicelanders, there is only one weather abroad, and it is always good.

School’s in again, and this year AAH moved up a level. Here in Niceland, compulsory education ends at the age of sixteen, which corresponds to the end of elementary school. From then on, most kids move on to framhaldsskóli [upper secondary school] which is like a senior high school and lasts four years. It ends with a stúdentspróf, or high school equivalent [A-levels in the UK]. The other option is a trade or technical college – or no school at all.

Before going into a framhaldsskóli, kids have to pass standardized national exams. There’s usually a lot of competition for the top schools and the popular ones tend to go in and out of fashion – one year a particular school may be trendy, another year it will be another. Schools pick and choose their students and obviously the most in-demand ones are the most selective.

This year, the school with the most applications also happened to be the only true-blue prep school in the country, i.e. the only private upper-secondary school and also the only one that charges tuition fees. AAH, who has notoriously expensive taste, went for a visit there at the end of last school year and came home with stars in her eyes. The facilities were so gleaming new and shiny, the best of everything, and oh – it was all just so perfect. She completely set her sights on getting in – if she didn’t get accepted, she said, there was no point in her going to school at all. She’d just drop out and work. [She has a flair for the dramatic – what can I say?]

Anyway, she just scraped by on her grades – and in fact by the latest accounts hers were even slightly lower than the average, so the fact that she was accepted is a bit puzzling. I suspect it had something to do with her stellar turn in West Side Story a couple of years ago [and also a glowing recommendation from her former vice-principal, who adored her]. The prep school is renowned for its lavish annual musical productions … it’s well-known that they have the dosh to put on shows without having to cut any corners, and the fact that AAH has proven to have an aptitude in that area probably didn’t hurt.

Anyway, there’s a lot of money floating around the place – in fact it’s become one of the bastions of the Icelandic elite, which sadly is becoming more and more evident as the wage gap widens in this country. Predictably, there are stringent requirements for spending. In addition to the tuition fees, which are substantially higher even than the annual ‘registration’ fees at the University of Iceland, there appears to be no restraint when it comes to assigning textbooks, all of which must be purchased. This week so far the bill for books alone has come to ISK 40,000 [USD 616 / GBP 308], even though the majority were bought used and there’s still a handful outstanding on the list. [Meanwhile, the girl in the bookshop told us that she’d had to purchase books for ISK 8,500 (USD 131/ GBP 65) at her state school – quite the difference]. Laptops, too, are de rigeur, even though the school does not require them per se. And I’ll leave it to you to imagne the standards in fashion, hair, makeup, etc. [AAH gets up at 6 am to get ready to leave for school at 7.30 saynomore].

Not that I’m begrudging the cost. On the contrary, I’m delighted that AAH set her mind on achieving ‘the best’ and made it – I know it will boost her self-esteem and encourage her to keep striving for whatever she wants in the future, and as such it is absolutely invaluable. Plus, being among ‘the elite’ – as long as she keeps her chin up and her confidence high, which she is wont to do anyway – will hopefully only do her good. The year as a whole will be a challenge – the curriculum is demanding, and in addition to a full course of study she’s also moved up a notch at the Vocal Academy, where she started studying last year. This means seven hours a week in addition to her school studies, in vocal training, music theory and so on. [The Vocal Academy, incidentally, costs more than the prep school and books combined – and being the trouper she is, she’s paying for half of it herself, from her summer earnings]. The only thing that worries me a bit is that she also plans to keep her job on the side. After all [she maintains] she’ll need to find a way to finance all those designer clothes she needs to buy.

WEATHER!
Very wet. In fact, AAH just went off to her first prep-school party holding a newspaper over her head [umbrellas are so passé]. Currently 11°C [55F] and the sun came up at 5:45 am, set at 9:13 pm.

As this is written, a massive search is underway for two Germans who were reported missing a few days ago, but who have not been heard from for about three weeks. Their relatives got in touch with the Icelandic authorities when they didn’t return home on their booked flights last week.

Sadly, foreign tourists going missing or being gravely injured is not an uncommon occurrence here.* This is a dangerous place – the weather is unpredictable and up in the highlands can turn savage in an instant, the roads can turn from paved to gravel without warning, glacial ice forms deep and dangerous crevices in the summer, the interior is vast and it’s easy to lose your way, crossing rivers in vehicles is subject to very specialized guidelines, and a only slightly misplaced foot on the banks of a river can mean sudden death. The list goes on.

The Iceland Tourist Board distributes very clear guidelines for tourists, including rule number one: Let someone know where you’re going and when you expect to be back. Still, it’s amazing how many people neglect this simple procedure. One of the two German men now missing reportedly told his girlfriend that they were going ice climbing on a glacier, and then provided a description that could apply to several different locations here. The area currently being searched is 70 km2 and it may not even be the right place – it’s considered likely, because one of their cell phones registered a signal near that place at the end of last month, but really it’s all speculation.**

There was a very apt editorial in Morgunblaðið today, about the increasing number of tour groups coming to Iceland from abroad, with their own buses and their own guides that often are not even qualified guides, but rather ‘group organizers’. The paper pointed out how brazen and foolhardy this is – Icelandic tour guides, by contrast, must undergo intensive training for a full year in order to become qualified. They must know not only about the popular tourist sights, history, geology, etc., but also about the inherent risks of traveling in this country, what equipment to take along, and how to respond should emergencies arise. The paper cites a recent case in which an Icelandic tour guide happened to be in the vicinity of a foreign group when it was hit by falling rocks and a woman was injured. The tour guide was able to assist the woman and call for help – fortunately, since the rest of the group was completely at a loss and had no idea what to do. The paper didn’t elaborate, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was no cell phone reception in that area – in such a sparsely populated country there are many areas only accessible for a few weeks each year – and generally there is no reception there.

That incident had a fortuitous ending – but there have been many that did not. I recall the case of an Italian man a few years ago who went hiking by himself up north and simply vanished. And a couple of years ago – just after I started blogging – I got an email from a brother of someone who had been killed here in Iceland under adverse circumstances on which he didn’t elaborate. He’d seen his brother’s name on an Icelandic website, and wanted to ask me to kindly translate and let him know what it said. I was moved.

Today’s editorial goes so far as to suggest that perhaps tour groups from abroad should be banned from traveling through certain regions of the country unless a qualified Icelandic guide goes along. That would surely enhance the safety of our foreign visitors. Personally I think it’s a fantastic idea that should be implemented pronto.

One more thing: the Icelandic search and rescue teams that operate all over the country consistently fill me with awe. These are people working under severe and difficult conditions and putting life and limb at risk – and all on a volunteer basis. They fund their activities through donations and fundraising efforts like selling fireworks at New Year’s. As soon as there’s an emergency, or the threat of an emergency, they’re out there performing deeds that can only be described as immensely heroic.

WE’VE HAD REPEATED CLOUDBURSTS IN THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS
Very rare here in Niceland, where we’re more prone to getting drizzle and fog. Anyway, it’s rained buckets – looks like we’re finally being delivered the rain we didn’t get earlier in the summer. Which is fine because it’s conducive to staying inside and working, which is what my life pretty much revolves around right about now. Temps 12°C [55F] and the sun came up this morning at 5:39 and set at 9:20 this evening.

* I don’t want to suggest that only foreign travelers get caught up in dangerous situations – Icelanders are definitely not exempt.
** I realize I may sound insensitive to the case of these two men, but truly I’m not. I sincerely hope they’re found alive – but I have to say that, all things considered, it’s not very likely.

I just got back from reading Rozanne’s most recent entry, in which she has a minor coronary [sorry Rozanne!] upon discovering that she’s just unwittingly eaten pork heart as a key ingredient in a sausage.

Whereas my first reaction to her anecdote was: Mmmm, heart!

Yep – here in Niceland we eat lamb hearts without thinking twice about it. In fact, the hearts are considered choice cuts – they’re all muscle, lean, and happen to be very tasty. Lamb liver is also popular chez YT – even AAH, who is a notoriously fickle eater, has loved it since she was very small.

I suppose what it boils down to is the Icelandic tradition of utilizing every part of the animal. Back in the dark ages [a.k.a. early last century] when Iceland was the poorest country in Europe, the majority of the population didn’t have a choice. Everything was eaten – the innards, the flesh, the blood, the head – and, of course, the wool and skin of the Icelandic sheep kept this nation alive. People ate horses too.

Today I wouldn’t say the innards of the sheep are everyday fare, but most of us don’t have any qualms about eating them. Blood sausage [slátur], made from the blood of the sheep and sewn up in the stomach before being boiled, is something families get together to make, as a tradition. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten slátur, but just the other day we were talking about it and EPI was saying how he’d like to have it for dinner one night – bought cold, we slice it up, fry it on a pan, and dust it with a bit of sugar before eating. When I was little, liver and hearts were cooked regularly for dinner – these days they’ve become somewhat of a novelty and are cooked more as a nostalgic throwback than an everyday meal. Svið – sheeps’ heads that are singed to burn the hairs off and then boiled – were standard fare in my parents’ day, and are still readily available – you can even buy them in many stores cooked and ready to take home, similar to a grilled chicken [this tends to gross out the tourists bigtime]. However, most people eat them as a compressed jelly – i.e. with pieces of meat in a salty broth that has been mixed with gelatin to bind it gogether. Very tasty – really.

Mokay then! I guess I can leave the pickled whale blubber and putrid shark for another post [or maybe I’ve elaborated sufficiently on those already in earlier dispatches]. Besides, I’m starting to get hungry and find myself wishing I’d picked up some sviðasulta [sheeps’ head jelly] at the store today.

BEAUTIFUL, CALM WEATHER TODAY
So gorgeous this morning, sunny and calm with that iridescent late-summer light – I wanted most of all to go berry picking, but alas, duty called. Clouded over this afternoon but it was still mild and calm, so in other words, lovely. Right now 13°C [55F] and sunrise was at 5:33 am, sunset at 9:27 pm.

PS – When did ‘heart’ start being used as a verb? I see it all over the place – ‘I heart this’ or ‘I heart that’ … this is totally new to me.

So, yesterday EPI and I headed into town to help set a Guinness World Record in the ‘Telephone’ whisper game. Sadly, only 600-odd people showed up [not bad in the space of an hour, though, I guess] whereas 1,100 were needed in order to break the world record. Here’s EPI getting whispered at by a complete stranger, so very subtly:

The game was lots of fun, everybody in a jolly mood [the weather was excellent, as you can see] and, predictably, the original sentence bore little similarity to the last one.

ORIGINAL SENTENCE
“Við setjum heimsmet í Reykjavík” [We’ll set a world record in Reykjavík]

THE SENTENCE WE GOT
“Við erum komin upp á dekk” [We’re up on the deck]

THE SENTENCE THAT CAME OUT AT THE END
“Er þetta komið?” [Are we done yet?]

Unrecognizable. But then - that’s just what you expect, right?

TODAY’S WEATHER
It was raining this morning, had stopped by around noon, and by mid-afternoon it was still cloudy. Nonetheless, as we headed out to Selfoss for a birthday party at EPI’s brother and sister-in-law’s I was optimistic enough to grab my sunglasses on the way out, and lo! it was sunny almost for the rest of the day. My in-laws have this supercool house that’s brand new but has a turf roof like the old Icelandic farms did, and you can easily climb it. It’s surprisingly comfortable up there, and we actually spent more than half an hour on the ridge, soaking up some rays and just talking. Pretty hilarious, when you think about it. Currently 11°C [52F], sunrise was at 5:30 am, sunset at 9:31 pm.

Just got back from the couch where I watched tonight’s big Kaupthing concert on the tee-vee because I’m a lazy ass and couldn’t be bothered to take the ten minute car ride over to Laugardalur to watch it live.

I won’t be able to find no parkin’, is what I told myself.

Actually, that’s not the truth. The truth is that I thought it would be crap, and that’s because I have preconceived notions about a big multinational corporation that moreover is A BANK sponsoring some of Niceland’s biggest bands and/or performers to play at their birthday concert. And also because I thought it was kind of lame that, because Iceland’s other two major commercial banks are each sponsoring an event tomorrow [Glitnir the Reykjavík Marathon; Landsbanki another big outdoor concert tomorrow night on Klambratún], just as they did last year, Kaupthing was just jonesing to get in on the action so they slapped together a concert at the last minute on the night before the Big Day [because of course tomorrow is Reykjavík Culture Night a.k.a. The Biggest Party of theYear*] and, well, with all things considered, it was bound to be awful.

Yes, ladies and gents, I am a cynic, and jaded to boot. And therefore it serves me right that I was proven totally wrong – the concert, despite its dodgy premise, kicked ass. Bubbi ruled, Mugison showed yet again what a supreme talent he is, and even old Todmobile took the place by storm. Sure, there were some acts that left something to be desired – I’ll mention no names, except to say that the last act fell totally fell flat and there was that certain girl group with a synthetic name [clue] that set a new standard in karaoke clichés.

But enough about all that. Tomorrow is TBPOTY and already the programme is so overwhelming that I get panic attacks just looking at it. Culture night started as a minor affair about ten years ago and was limited to – as the name suggests – Saturday night. I can’t remember what went on back then, but it was probably a concert or two and maybe a busker playing on Lækjartorg square. Well, as we all know there is nothing Nicelanders love more than a party, so since that time Culture Night has morphed into this day-long affair [that this year actually started tonight with the above-mentioned concert – a sign of things to come?] with things happening all over the city, from crazy ideas realized in the most humble gallery or storefront, to the huge fireworks display on board a ship anchored offshore at 11 pm. Everyone gets in on the action and the key to surviving Culture Night is picking an event or two that looks intriguing, and just going there. Never mind if you get sidetracked along the way [which is inevitable].

This year I’m quite partial to the waffle-baking event [the residents in the Þingholt area downtown are baking waffles for anyone who wants to come by] and also the whisper game that I’m sure has an actual name … you know, when you start on one end and whisper a word and it travels the whole line to the other end, and you see what word comes out. This year these two people [a brother and sister] have decided they want to set a Guinness record for the number of participants, so they’re recruiting over 1,000 people to turn up and join the chain of whispers. Sounds fun, no?

Anyway, there’s every danger that I’ll be reporting on the day’s escapades in this space at a later time, so be forewarned. The weather is supposed to be OK – cloudy but calm and no rain, thank goodness – which is lucky because we’re set for a downpour on Sunday. Today was great – a bit of a chill in the air but fresh and relatively calm. EPI and I went downtown and I was surprised by the numbers of tourists that have suddenly infiltrated the city – possibly because of tomorrow’s event, possibly because of school hols in Europe. Right now 7°C [45F] and sunrise was at 5:24 am, sunset at 9:38 pm.

* Next to wildan’crazy New Year’s Eve, of course

The one meme question I always wished someone would ask me is: ‘What celebrity annoys you the most?’ because in contrast to most other meme questions, I know exactly what I would answer.

Victoria Beckham.

I dunno - the very sight of Victoria Beckham irks me. I think it’s that self-important way she rushes around with that ‘I’M SUCH A BIG CELEBRITY THAT I HAVE TO RUSH PAST YOU WITH THESE SUNGLASSES ON BECAUSE THE PAPARAZZI ARE ON MY ARSE,’ look. Or the ‘hip-thrust-out-with-perpetual-pout’ look. Or because for a few years, not a week would go by when she and Daivid were not on the cover of frigging OK or HELLO, having their supertacky throned wedding and other trivialities hyped to the sixes. Like that ludicrous media circus surrounding their move to America. I mean - hello!! Has no one ever moved to another country before!? Ever!?

And now, just when you thought VB had exhausted her capacity for tackiness she gives us Victoria Beckham: THE BOOK. In which she teaches you how to shit - in Prada.

NEXT THING YOU KNOW SHE’LL BE DOING NAKED WEATHER REPORTS
… which incidentally is a very popular googlie around these, um, parts. We had more sun today although a bit more cloud cover than yesterday, and a definite chill in the air. The wind died down a bit though. In two days’ time we have our Culture Night celebrations plus the Reykjavík Marathon [no I’m not going - don’t bother asking] a.k.a. the Biggest Party of the Summer. For which we’d like to place our order of warm, sunny and no wind, please. Current temps 10°C [50F] and sunrise was at 5:20 am, sunset at 9:41 pm.

I wasn’t kidding about the nightlife, you know.

Only a few short years ago, Reykjavík was hailed as the wildest, craziest, most outrageous city in all of Europe to go out on the town. Planeloads of Europeans flew over here for the weekend just to party and trendy young rock stars bought shares in their favourite pubs. When bars closed around 3 am, hoardes of people poured out on the street – on some weekend nights in midsummer there were 5,000 people packed into the small area around Lækjartorg square.

Needless to say, with so many people crowding into one space, scuffles were inevitable. Plus, getting everyone back home and snug in their beds presented a bit of a challenge … the taxi companies weren’t quite managing it and, well, something had to be done. So in their infinite wisdom, city authorities decided to extend the opening hours of bars and nightclubs, giving proprietors more or less free rein in deciding when to close. That, they claimed, would fix the problem of drunken disorderliness in the city centre at weekends.

Consequently, now clubs in Iceland close whenever they want, which usually means around 5 or 6 am. And yes – the issue with the several-miles-long taxi line has been pretty much resolved. Instead what we’re seeing is people going out around 1 am and getting pumped up on their favourite stimulants just to be able to last until closing time. By which time they’re both pugnacious and wired. Which is why today we have a a rise in gratuitous violence, including rape and sexual violence. Ugh. Ugh. The sort of stuff we haven’t seen in Reykjavík before.

A few days ago, the Chief of Police in Reykjavík wrote a long article in Morgunblaðið in which he voices his panic about the prevailing conditions in downtown Reykjavík on weekends. He compares it to our notorious summertime outdoor festivals, in which punters normally drink or drug themselves insensible and wreak havoc upon themselves and their surroundings. He calls for measures to counteract the madness – but is it possible to turn back time? [Discuss.]

Meanwhile, today’s Fréttablaðið rises to the occasion and gives the Chief a good spanking in its editorial. It claims that Icelandic cops have duly failed to shoulder their responsibilities in the insanity of downtown Reykjavík on weekends, that they stay in their vehicles with the doors locked and refuse to go out on the beat and make themselves visible. And because this is so, anyone is free to use whatever intoxicants they want in any pub or bar – and increasingly, this does not include the only legal drug served there – booze.

Much as I hate to diss The Law – I definitely wouldn’t want their job and boy, was I glad to have them around when my methhead neighbours lived next door – I have to agree with him. Police visibility here in Niceland is virtually nonexistent. This very thought crossed my mind just last week when, on two successive evenings, I watched cars on a very busy street slow down as they approached a red light, then drive right through them. Icelanders, as a breed, tend to send authority the finger anyway and live by their own rules; however, in downtown Reykjavík on weekends this is a recipe for disaster. So I hope Reykjavík’s finest get out there and start flexing their muscles – before my kid reaches legal drinking age.

METHINKS SUMMER IS JUST ABOUT OVER
We can already feel the sharp chill in the air – and temps have dropped a degree or two on the average. There’s been an annoying wind blowing strong for the last few days, redeemed only by the sun coming out, which warmed things up ever so slightly. At the moment it’s 10°C [50F] and the brilliant sun rose this morning at 5:17 am and set about a half hour ago at 9:45 pm.