reflections

So, I’ve been having a bit of trouble coming up with things to say about the Eric Clapton concert I went to last weekend. At the risk of sounding like a perpetual sourpuss, I have to say I didn’t enjoy it very much. And I can’t decide whether it was old Eric himself, or the awful venue [never again will I attend a concert at the Egilshöll arena, NEVER] with its horrific acoustics, or the sweltering heat [apparently the temperatures inside went up to 29°C / 84°F], or the condensation that started dripping down from the ceiling about two-thirds of the way through [the body moisture of 14,000 people dribbling down upon our heads, can you say DISGUSTING?] or the still-infuriating fact that we had to deposit our water receptacles at the door and then stood in that godforsaken lineup for a fricking hour.

All those things were bad enough, but maybe the root of the problem is that I’ve never really been a huge fan of old Eric’s. I own one of his CDs – the Unplugged one – and ‘Layla’ and ‘Cocaine’ were two of the most blast-able party anthems when I was growing up, but apart from that I really don’t dig his stuff all that much.

Be that as it may, I do like most types of music when it’s played well, with passion and real gusto. When the performer is really into what he or she is doing, I can usually get swept up pretty easily and have a good time. Not so with old Eric last Friday. In fact, I have to echo the words of my sister-in-law who said that the entire time she couldn’t get past the feeling that he was just ‘doing his job’. That he was ‘at work’. That was my sentiment also – Clapton is a skilled musician, he can really go at those guitar strings, but to me a lot of it seemed pretty mechanical. About a third of the way through, he and his second guitarist starting doing this kind of duelling-guitar thing, which was the first time I felt any sort of chemistry between performer(s) and audience. Soon afterwards he broke out his acoustic guitar and played a few songs sitting down, which also came across really well. I thought at that point that the concert was about to take off, but alas – it soon faltered and old Eric was back to being ‘at work’.

Initially I thought this experience of the concert was perhaps because we were standing so far from the stage [I couldn’t see a damn thing and had to fall back on watching the action on those big screens they had flanking it; numerous times I wondered why I hadn’t just bought the DVD and turned the volume up real loud at home] and because of all the general discomfort in there, but my sister-in-law was right up close to the stage, and she felt the same way. So clearly that wasn’t the issue.

Another thing that really bothered me – and bothered a lot of the people I’ve talked to – was the fact that he came on, shouted “Good evening!”, shouted “Thank you!” after many of the songs, at one point he said something about his friend who was there, but that was it. He barely smiled and made no effort to form a rapport with the audience. He didn’t even introduce the band, which I thought was pretty lame. He’s not an unlikeable character and I know he’s had a hard time and he’s worked hard to get sober and all that so I’m prepared to cut him some slack, but he certainly didn’t win me over as a performer.

The major downer, though, for almost everyone, was the absence of Layla. Before he arrived, mbl.is published his set list from two days previously in Bergen, and he followed it exactly EXCEPT that he left out Layla. Now, I know that there’s no rule he has to play the same set, but since it seemed to have been the only song he omitted from the set it seemed like a major letdown for everyone. Truly disappointing.

I should state for the record here that EPI disagreed with me on almost every point. [Not the point about Layla. Nor about not introducing the band. But almost everything else.] But then he’s a guitar guy and really got into the intricacies of the playing and whathaveyou, and couldn’t have cared less if Eric smiled or bawled or stood on his head or shouted F*uck you! [well, maybe that]. EPI wanted some hot guitar action – he didn’t want “showmanship” – and hot guitar action is what he got. He went out of there pretty happy.

Just one more point: I thought he had a kick-ass band with him and was pretty enamoured of his keyboard player, who looked like a skinny version of a Scandinavian troll doll and really let rip on those solos – apart from ‘Cocaine’ those were the highlights of the concert for me. Clapton’s sidekick guitar player was pretty good too, but mostly I was just stunned by the fact that he played the entire concert with a wool hat stuck on his head without his brain being boiled to a pulp. Of the entire band, the most charismatic was the bass player, who unfortunately was only rarely shown on the big screen but who had an amazing stage presence. And the drummer was supremely entertaining of all – the expressions on that guy’s face were almost worth the price of admission alone.

That’s it for me, then. But if you’ve made it this far and were at the concert I’d love to have your take. Það má vera á íslensku!

GORGEOUS DAY TODAY

The sun was out for most of the day, colouring everything brilliant – until late this afternoon when clouds rolled in and we actually had a little sprinkling of rain. Took a break from work to get some fresh air out by the golf course and it was gorgeous, really WARM, which is rarely the case out there as it’s a peninsula that basically just juts out into the sea. And everyone seemed to be in such happy spirits. Looks like we’re in for more of the same over the next three days. Right now 13°C [55F], sunrise was at 5:07 am, sunset at 9.56 pm.

PS - found a couple of vids on YouTube that are actually a lot more impressive than the real thing *sigh* I should have just stayed home and watched the highlights there. Here’s [the completely cringe-worthy] Wonderful Tonight and here’s Cocaine. So what do you think: do you feel the passion, or is old Eric just doing his job?

So, I was just on my way out today when the earthquake hit. I was in the bedroom getting some stuff together and AAH was standing yacking away at me when I felt trembling and heard that eerie, creepy kind of rumble that always accompanies earthquakes. AAH didn’t notice, just kept talking, until I grabbed her and made for the doorway, and we stood there while the house shook all around us. Polly flew up screeching, the door to the hall cupboard flew open and the little lantern I have hung up in the hallway started swinging alarmingly back and forth. This seemed to last forever.

The most scary thing about earthquakes I find is the absolute powerlessness you feel in the face of their hugeness. The second most scary thing is not knowing if it’s over. Is this it, or is there more to come? Or - is there something bigger on the way? The shock hits afterwards: HOLY SHIT, that was an earthquake, should I run outside - or what?

The phone rang immediately; it was EPI calling from work, but as soon as I picked up the receiver it went dead and there was no way to get a connection for the next 15 minutes or so, neither with a landline nor GSM. Connection soon resumed, but police and civil defence were asking people not to use their phones unless absolutely necessary, to keep lines free for emergencies.

Anyway, it soon transpired that the epicenter was near Selfoss, about an hours’ drive from here [as it was the last time we had a major quake, in 2000] and the quake was somewhere between 6.1 and 6.7 on the Richter scale [reports vary]. I had the radio on in the car and there were live reports from Selfoss, where the reporter was clearly very shaken. Thankfully there were no major injuries to people [one good thing about living in Niceland is that they’re sticklers about building standards over here] but as you can imagine there was a fair bit of damage - outhouses collapsed at farms so sheep and lambs had to be put down, things fell off walls and shelves, household items were smashed, there was damage to roads and bridges, and there were landslides in various places. For the longest time people were strongly advised not to go back inside buildings for fear of another quake; the hospital and seniors’ home were evacuated and shelters were [and have been] set up both in Selfoss and here in Reykjavík, for people who can’t or don’t want to spend the night at home. Some buildings [like the hospital] are heavily damaged, with deep cracks in the walls and such, so obviously remaining inside is risky.

EPI’s brother lives in Selfoss; EPI spoke to him earlier. Turns out nothing was damaged at their place except for one egg cup that broke, which must be considered lucky since their massive mutha of a stove [it’s got three ovens in it] actually moved about 5 cm across the floor. Also, EPI’s brother had just finished some stonework in front of the house [a low wall of some sort] which was flattened. EPI was kind of concerned that their turf roof would have slid right off the sides, which would have been kind of unfortunate - but he needn’t have worried, it remained firmly in place so they’ll be spared the experience of sleeping under the stars.

Meanwhile, seismologists have determined that a major aftershock is not very likely since there were actually two earthquakes this afternoon, rather than one [which presumably accounts for how long it seemed to last]. Note bene, this is not counting smaller tremor that happened both before and after, and are still going on. This will also have eased a fair bit of the tension, which means that the people of Selfoss whose houses were not damaged are now officially free to sleep at home tonight. The others will have to spend the night elsewhere.

THANKFULLY IT WAS A GORGEOUS DAY
So the peeps of Selfoss could pass the time outdoors this afternoon without too much trouble. According to the reporter I listened to in the car, where she was standing women had come running outside in their bare feet - they’d been in the middle of a pedicure at a beauty salon, while others were having their hair highlighted so had a head full of aluminium foil [wonder what their hair looks like now!]. It was another utterly gorgeous day, right now we have 10°C [50F] and sunrise this morning was at 3.30 am, sunset due in exactly an hour, at 11.22 pm.

Alright, so where were we? ~ Yes…

From gkb:

As someone who lived in North America and returned to reside in Iceland, what differences do you notice most between the two places (both good and bad, of course)? Apropos of this, what commentary, suggestions, or advice might you have for someone who is considering moving to Iceland?

~ There are loads of differences, I couldn’t even begin to list them all, so I’ll mention the first that comes to mind: it’s a lot easier to meet people and make friends in North America than here. Icelanders are notoriously reticent, they have very set social circles usually made up of people they went to school with, and they seem to sort of fall into an easy pattern of socializing with the same people all the time. It can be incredibly difficult to penetrate that; however, if you do manage to make friends with Icelanders they are generally your friends for life and incredibly loyal. So my advice - if you’re serious about staying here, give it time. It takes ages to integrate.

From Ruth:

Just wondering about how much time you spend blogging daily (reading, commenting, and posting) and if you ever feel it takes away from the “real” things you have to do in life to the point where you have short-changed these more important things and must cut back on the blogging to gain a better balance.

~ It varies. Maybe an hour on average. Let’s just say that I get the things done that I need to get done [e.g. I don’t let blogging interfere with my deadlines], but when I do have surplus time or a slow day I do tend to fill it with surfing the web or reading posts from my fave bloggers, even though the time probably could be better spent elsewhere. Writing posts doesn’t take me a very long time as a rule [I’m a fast typist and things just sort of spill out of my brain, although I do revise, at least once], and posting for me takes priority over reading and commenting elsewhere. These days, for example, I’m scrambling to finish various tasks and assignments, and while I do post regularly [which seems to be necessary for my mental health, incidentally] I don’t have much time to read.

From Steve:

If we`re not limited to one question per customer, what tickles yer funnybone?

~ Googlies! And EPI. He’s the funniest guy I know - everybody likes to be around him because he’s got this great sense of humour. And I’m lucky because I get to live with him. We laugh a lot.

From Don in Seattle:

I have been visiting Iceland for over 30 years, and I have seen many changes within the economy there. But nothing quite like what has happened within the past month in the Icelandic financial markets. Has there been a dramatic change in the daily life there, or is life going on as before? How is the average Icelander weathering this financial storm?

~ You know, it’s bizarre. Everybody outside of Iceland keeps talking about this serious financial crisis that has supposedly befallen us here, that our banks are going down the toilet, the króna is going the way of the dodo bird and whathaveyou. Yes, our currency has depreciated in value, yes share prices have gone down dramatically … but the same has been happening almost everywhere. Call me naive, but I don’t think it’s that much worse here than in other parts of the world. We’ve been told that food prices will rise by 20 percent in the next few weeks, but that’s because food prices are rising everywhere. And yes, we have pretty high inflation now, but Iceland has had high inflation before and survived. I expect that some people are in deep shit because they’ve taken massive loans and their property, cars or whatever have suddenly depreciated in value, or they have foreign debt which has suddenly increased. However, the Icelanders are remarkably sanguine when it comes to economic upsets. Their favourite phrase is “þetta reddast”, which basically means “it will work out one way or another”. And often it does. So [to get back to your question] essentially it’s business as usual around here.

From Jay:

I imagine the diet of the average Icelander to be high in seafood. How safe would it be for me, as a person with serious fish allergies, to visit Iceland? Is fish everywhere on the menu?

~ Well, unless you are so allergic that you cannot breathe in the air of fish being cooked [which I’m told some people are] you should be OK. Just avoid anything that says fiskur on the menu. There will be other options, for sure.

From Jon [via email]:

I am sure you have addressed this before, but how do you survive the gloominess of winter?

~ Jon! You’ve just reminded me that I never did get back to my loyal readers on the subject of the SAD lamp and its effectiveness, even though I promised to. [So thank you.] ~ To be perfectly honest, the winters here are deadly. For me it’s not really depression in the mental sense, but rather an extreme sluggishness that starts around the beginning of November and persists until, say, the end of January. Problems concentrating, lack of energy, and boy is it hard to drag my ass out of bed in the mornings. I used to take massive vitamin doses with ginseng but I stopped … and finally this year EPI and I went out and got the SAD lamp. I have to say, it works wonders. Within three days I was back to my normal self. My father-in-law got one too, and felt like a newly-minted two-shilling piece*. ~ Oh, and I also take cod liver oil.

And the final one, from Runa [via email]:

When I was young my parents didn’t put up our Christmas tree until Christmas Eve as it was ‘tradition’ not to put up decorations until the 24th in Iceland (my dad was Icelandic and adapted the tradition to fit in with 24th/25th thing). We loved it and the neighbours thought we were weird. My mum was frantically rushing about on Christmas Eve when we were in bed decorating the house, on top of everything else she had to do for our lovely Christmas morning surprise on the 25th. So you said in your blog all the houses were decorated earlier - is this true? Was my mum rushing about on Christmas eve giving herself a mind blowing work schedule for nothing?

~ It is tradition here to put up the tree very close to Christmas, on the 23rd or the 24th. However, the other decorations go up much earlier, like at the beginning of Advent [four Sundays before Christmas Eve]. So if your mother was putting up the tree AND all the other decorations, then yes, I’d say she was giving herself a mind-blowing schedule for nothing. Or that she thrived on stress.

Okay! That concludes our little Q&A session, thanks for your input everyone, I’m feeling so much better now as far as the mojo thing is concerned …

EXCEPT THAT IT IS CURRENTLY SNOWING
I couldn’t believe it, I looked out earlier and everything was white. And here I thought we’d left winter in the dust already. With any luck the white stuff will all be gone tomorrow; in fact if it isn’t I’m filing a formal complaint. Today was a gorgeous day as seen from the window, very enticing, enough to have you believe that spring was here and that it was OK to go out running in shorts and a t-shirt [like one guy I saw today - you’ve gotta hand it to the Nicelanders, if there’s sun they’ll take their clothes off]. Right now we have -2°C [28F] and SNOW, and sunrise was at 6.20 am, sunset at 8.41 pm.

* Yet another Nicelandic idiom.

This question thing is easy, perhaps a bit too easy. And I’m sure it could get tedious after a while, seeing as how I’d have to be answering questions all the time pretending I was in the loop about all kinds of stuff and couldn’t just rant about daily stuff, like the ditzy woman with wet hair who had her open [black] car door pushing against my [silver grey] car outside Bónus today while she pulled stuff out of her back seat …

YT: Excuse me, your door is pushing against the side of my car.
LADY WITH WET HAIR: Oh.
YT: It left a mark.
LWWH: I didn’t slam it against yours.
YT: It left a mark.
LWWH: [Wets finger and rubs the black mark on YT’s car.] Yeah, well I didn’t slam it.
YT: Oh, I see. You just pushed it.

~ BUT we still have questions, and here are a couple more.

From xl:

Do you ever get “island fever?” (That is, have the feeling of being trapped on the island and have to go to a larger space.)

~ Nope! I do not. I sometimes want to get out of here to see something new, immerse myself in a different culture, but I don’t really associate it with being on an island. And after all, Iceland is big. A total of 103,000 square kilometres to be exact.

From Virginia:

Are Icelandic ponies like Shetland ponies, in that they are psychotics with Short-Man Syndrome, or do they have sweet personalities to match their utter cuteness?

~ They have sweet personalities. And incidentally, they’re not ponies. They’re small, but they exceed the official pony size and are bona fide horses. Be forewarned: ‘Iceland ponies’ is a term that should not be uttered in Iceland. Under any circumstances.

From Skúli:

I constantly return to your blog precisely for the things that you complain make you unhappy about it. That’s what life is like - it’s not focused. Then a question: would you agree with the proposition that style shows the personality of the writer?

~ First, thank you for the first part of your comment. Very reassuring. Second, yes, I would absolutely agree with your proposition. In fact, I am consistently amazed at how clearly some people’s character shows through their writing. There’s no way to hide it. It seeps out somehow.

From the Pharmacy Trainee [now a pharmacist]:

My question will be the sillyest of all and perhaps offensive (I hope not) but… Dont you feel that Iceland is worldwide knew (not only, but mostly) because of Bjork? (Oh God, that´s a question I´ve always wanted to ask an icelandic and never had the balls to make…)

~ Not silly and certainly not offensive. The question is a resounding YES. Björk totally put Iceland on the map. She did what the Iceland Tourist Board could not have done with a ten-billion-dollar budget. BJÖRK FOR PRESIDENT!!

Okay, that’s it for now, I have to go to bed.

IT WAS A GORGEOUS SUNNY DAY, VERY DECEPTIVE
Because as soon as you went outside, it was absolutely freezing. Windchill temps well below zero. Tolerable out of the wind, though, but intolerable if you had it full-on. Right now -4°C [25F] and sunrise was at 6.34 am, sunset at 8.29.

Okay, “On with the butter” as they say here in Niceland … I asked for questions, you gave me questions, so here we go.

From Alisonl:

So my question: Is one child enough or do you wish you had more?

~ Oh, boy. I think I could probably write two volumes of memoirs on this one. Let’s just put it this way: circumstances in my life have not supported me having more children. Do I wish those circumstances had been different? Yes, I do. In the meantime I try to be grateful for what I do have: a wonderful, smart, well-balanced daughter [who sometimes drives me up the wall] and three amazing stepdaughters that I adore. I would not have wanted to miss out on motherhood and I’m grateful that I had the opportunity. And by extension I have to say that I’m also grateful that my daughter and stepdaughters were spared the pain of having to take a perpetual back seat to a parent’s ‘legitimate’ family. Because when a parent starts a new family with a new partner, the ‘old’ children inevitably get pushed aside. [Discuss if you like.] And that’s one of the hardest things there is.

From Kathryn:

when are you coming over here to Australia for a holiday ?!

~ As soon as someone invites me!! Seriously, when I was little, Australia was THE place I wanted to go. I desperately wanted my own Kangaroo [Skippy the kangaroo was my favourite show].

From Rozanne:

Ice cream or frozen yogurt? Which do you prefer?

~ Gah! The toughest question yet. I can’t decide. Sometimes one, sometimes the other. I love Haagen Dazs, for instance, but sometimes there’s nothing that beats a good frozen yogurt.

From Stine:

You’ve probably seen the movie “101 Reykjavík”. I lived in Iceland for two years (1993-1995), and when the movie came out I immediately thought “OMG THEY ARE FINALLY ADMITTING IT” - but when I was in Iceland in February I talked with people who did not recognize the way Icelanders were portrayed in the movie at all. Did I just hang with the wrong crowd in the nineties, or do you recognize it too?

~ It’s been a while since I saw that movie, but I remember not liking it very much. I thought it just pulled out all the stupid clichés about Icelanders and magnified them, and I definitely did not recognize those people. It’s not a world I associate with [but then I don’t do the pukey Reykjavík nightlife]. So, I hate to have to be the one to tell you, but: you hung with the wrong crowd.

From Nicole:

What is the easy part of the blog?

The sunrise/sunset times. [Bet you didn’t see that one coming.]

From Karen:

Any opinion on the schedule for Art Fest? www.artfest.is

~ Erm, no. I haven’t even looked at it [until now] and I’m really a poor judge of these things at first glance. But EPI is going to see Wayne Shorter, if that helps.

From TheMonkeyMan:

Being half Icelandic I can’t help but think the whole “happy nice icelanders” think is a crock of bullshit. From what I know of my own experiences; alcoholism is endemic, as is classism, racism and just general miserableness. Am I seeing a distorted view of Iceland or is everyone else?

~ It’s the old story: you just can’t generalize, can you? I can identify a bit with the ‘classism’ part [although to me it’s more just plain old snobbery] but not the racism [as a rule] and definitely not general miserableness. Except, you know, ’some of the people, some of the time’.

From bibliotecaria:

how much of your own food do Icelanders grow? I mean, the growing season is awfully SHORT up there.

~ Actually, you would be surprised what can be done with abundant geothermal heat and a few greenhouses. Up here we grow tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce and mushrooms year-round. Plus we have all that fresh fish in the sea. From spring until late fall we also get domestically-grown bell peppers, carrots and other root veggies, broccoli, cauliflower and potatoes [I don’t think I’m leaving anything out]. And of course we have this amazing lamb that grazes wild in the summer. So we actually get excellent fresh food here in Iceland, with all this pristine nature. The thing we lack, of course, is fruit, which is all imported, save for maybe strawberries. And of course we can pick our own blueberries and crowberries in late summer.

From Lucy:

what’s your favourite building in iceland, both sentimaentally and aesthetically?

~ Do they have to be one and the same? This is a really good question, and I gave it considerable thought today when I walked downtown. I’m really fond of the old buildings around Tjörnin, like the Fríkirkjan church and the National Gallery right next to it. I also really like the Reykjavík City Hall, particularly the side with the moss wall. However, I think my all-time favourite has to be the old Reykjavík library building on Þingholtsstræti because it’s beautiful and I spent so much time there as a kid. Unfortunately I can’t find a picture of it, and I didn’t want to take one today when I walked by because it’s undergoing renovation and is all boarded up and stuff. I also love Iðnó, which was the Reykjavík City Theatre for years, because I had such happy times there as a little girl.

From Dumdad:

Question: In all honesty, is Iceland a nice place to live. Is it, in fact, Niceland, or are you just being loyal? Are Icelanders warm and friendly to tourists or do they just put up with them because they bring in money? Um, so is Niceland a nice land?

~ Again, you can’t do the sweeping generalization thing. I’d say that mostly, yes, Iceland is a good place to live. It’s clean and [relatively] safe and it’s easy to get things done here. There’s a lot of dynamic energy. And yes, I’d say on the whole Icelanders are very friendly and open to tourists. Others may disagree [or agree] but I find Icelanders friendly in general. It may be hard to penetrate their social circles, though … but that’s another story entirely. So, I’m not really being facetious when I call Iceland Niceland. [Much.]

Okay … I gotta go, but I’m doing pretty good, aren’t I? Plowing through the questions? There are a few more to go but they’ll have to wait until next post.

IN THE MEANTIME
It started out with forceful winds and rain this morning, but then it cleared up, the sun came out and it stopped raining. Then it got cloudy, then we had a shower, then it became sunny again. Temps hovered around 5°C but right now they’re 2°C [36F] and sunrise was at 6.37 am, sunset at 8.26 pm.

Everyone: THANK YOU. I love the diversity of your questions, and your comments. And your feedback. This interactive nature of the blog is precisely what attracts me to blogging over other forms of writing - I’ve learned that for me, at least, it’s essential to feel that I’m not writing in a vacuum. So, thanks.

And now, without further ado:

From Bluegrass Mama:

Anyway, my question is: are you fluent in any languages in addition to English and Icelandic?

~ Yes, German. Although my written German is below average.

From Becky:

Do you Twitter?

~ No. I don’t see the point of Twitter. I like to communicate with people, but have absolutely no need to be constantly informing them of what I’m doing in 140 characters or less. Twitter holds no charm for me. Lots of people like it, though.

From Ásdís:

Do you regard your blog as a personal space or a public space? I know there probably isn’t a simple answer to this question, but I’d be interested in your thoughts. What I mean is that I have read about bloggers complaining about their personal spaces being invaded by advertisers, rude comments or some such and then others talking about how bloggers having to be aware of the blog as a public forum. It just seems to me that if you have to remind yourself it is public you don’t truly believe it. What do you think?

~ Good question, and definitely no easy answer. I think the blog is mostly public, and a little bit private. I constantly evaluate what I write on this blog because I know it’s public and that not only strangers read it, but also people I know. I sometimes joke that my life is an open book, but of course that’s not true - or if it is, then only a few pages are visible. I definitely assess what I write here, and usually not so much to protect myself, but rather to protect other people, usually the people close to me. ~ That said, this is also a personal space - I write my own thoughts from my own perspective, and while I invite people in to comment on what I write, I also reserve the right to evict those who violate my boundaries or post offensive material. And also, as was rather abruptly brought to my attention a couple of months ago, I am responsible not only for what I, myself, post here, but also what other people post in my comments. ~ Now having said all that, I’d be really interested to know what other bloggers think about this question.

From Kirston:

What is cod liver oil and why does it make you so damn happy all the time?

~ Cod liver oil is oil processed from the liver of the cod and sold as a dietary supplement, either in capsules or as a liquid. Here in Iceland it’s called lýsi and it’s been a staple in the Icelanders’ diet for years and years. Most children here have not-so-good memories of being forced to take lýsi [in fact it was administered in schools until late in the last decade]. It’s been proven to be extremely good for you, something about the Omega oils and amino acids and vitamin D and stuff [which is why Icelanders were made to take it, especially in the winter, because our bodies take vitamin D from the sun and obviously there is a shortage of that here in winter.] All that good stuff is also said to have a positive effect on people’s moods.

From Steve:

Drivers training…It`s not just a job, it`s an adventure!?! So how`s it going?

~ It’s going pretty well. No major disasters so far. Student has learned to bring up clutch and take off in first gear without burning rubber and/or stalling. Can also back out of parking space. YT has gone prematurely grey, though.

From Elin:

Many times you have written (tongue in cheek, I think) that you are not “really” a Nicelander. You also write about a portion of your young life spent in Canada. Do you consider yourself a vestur islendinga? And what I really want to say is: Good. God. You don’t consider yourself a vestur islendinga, do you? Follow up question would be what do you think of those of us who have a drop or two of Icelandic blood and who are obsessed with all things nicelandic?

~ I don’t consider myself a Vestur-Íslendingur and never did. I lived far from the Vestur-Íslendinga community [in Ontario] and could never identify with it. I hope you don’t take offense, but the V-Icelandic community seemed to me like so many of the other ethnic communities in Canada that lived and breathed a sort of a watered-down version of their homeland culture, that they were pining for something that didn’t actually exist, and that sort of scared me. It seemed to be a kind of fumbling around for an identity, and I didn’t want to lose my identity in that way. I needed to live in a place that had strong roots, not necessarily my roots, but strong roots, which you don’t get much in Canada. Which is why I eventually left Canada for Europe. I love Canada, but I was - and am - much happier in Europe. That said, today I have respect for the Vestur-Íslendinga community - not only the ancestors [with their incredible resilience and tenacity!] but also the people who work so hard to maintain the language and the old songs and traditions. I think it’s quite remarkable and lovely.

From Professor Batty:

What would an Iceland Weather Report blog post from 2020 look like?

~ Heh. To be honest, I very much doubt the Iceland Weather Report will still be around in 2020. I have no immediate plans for throwing in the towel, but I don’t think I’ll hold out that long [and if I do, I expect it will be in a different format]. But thanks for asking!

Okay! That’s all I have time for tonight, but I promise to get to all the rest … this is excellent food for blog, so again - thank you! I feel recharged.

AND OF COURSE THE REQUISITE WEATHER REPORT
It’s very windy around here these days - windy and dusty. There’s so much dust on the streets and the grass is all withered and dead and to be honest, it’s not a very attractive time of year. Yesterday I went out for a run and it was super windy and all these little grains of sand got stuck to my moisturizer. Seriously! Free facial scrub - I don’t know why people actually pay money for that stuff. Temps have gone up a bit, currently 5°C [41F] and sunrise was at 6.48 am, sunset at 8.17.

Ladies and gents, it’s that time of year again: YT’s blog mojo has gone AWOL. It generally happens in the early spring [why?], and it seems equally dire every time. I can’t think of a single interesting thing to write about, I think this blog sucks lemons and get all oh what’s the point because people aren’t leaving me comments and stuff. I hate the layout and it bothers me no end that there isn’t, like, a focus to these ramblings. My content is not specific enough, and that’s probably why I don’t have a zillion subscribers, because I’m not giving my readers what they want. And even if I were giving my readers what they want, what would be the point anyway? What the hell am I doing this for? Is blogging dead??

Etcetera.

So at this point I’m kind of tempted to ask for feedback, but I’ve done that before and know that most respondents will be polite and say things like “I like it just the way it is” and “just keep doing what you’re doing”, and that’s because they’re lovely people and probably don’t want to hurt my feelings. So instead, I’m going to invite you to ask me a question. Something you’ve had in the back of your mind while reading this blog, something you’ve perhaps been hoping to find the answer to, but haven’t … or just whatever pops into your mind. I promise to respond, will post my answers in a separate post, although I do reserve the right not to answer questions that I find too invasive, or to say “I don’t know” if I really don’t know.*

That way I can perhaps better understand what you’re thinking when you read this. It may even help me get my mojo back.

THIS HAS BEEN A WEEKEND OF WINDOW WEATHER
Which is what the Nicelanders call it when it looks amazing from the window, but you freeze your bitz off when you go outside. There has been not a cloud in the sky, but we’ve had a killer wind and temps around the freezing mark that feel like, oh, -20°C. Yesterday EPI and I went out for a walk [of course we picked the most badass-wind location in all of the capital area, like we always do] and it was so cold that by the time we got halfway around the golf course EPI offered to run and get the car so I wouldn’t have to walk all the way [because he’s the sweetest]. Anyway, I got up this morning and looked in the mirror and I looked like freaking Rudolph with the red shiny nose because when I’m in bright sunshine my nose turns all red while the rest of my face doesn’t. [Note to self: pick up some of that stuff that lifeguards use.] Temps right now 2°C [36F] and sunrise was at 6:52 am, sunset at 8:14 pm.

* Please, no anonymous questions, and just one question per comment.

The few days we spent in Berlin barely allowed us to scratch the surface of the city. Everybody raves about the culture there, but I didn’t really get a feeling for it. I think a few things contributed: EPI being sick meant that we couldn’t spend a lot of time wandering around because it was freaking cold, and there wasn’t really any sort of street life. I’m sure going there in the summer would yield a completely different experience.

My impression of Berlin this time around was that it is a hard nut to crack. It lacks the ebullience of New York [people seemed fairly reserved], the seductive beauty of Paris [much of Berlin architecture is unspectacular - so much was destroyed during WWII and a lot of soulless buildings were built in their stead] or the charm of London [the Berliners don’t exactly excel in the social graces]. However, Berlin has a remarkable undercurrent, and I got the sense that with a bit more time to delve beneath the surface [and to hang around in pubs and cafés], I would experience something entirely different.

At the end of the day, what makes Berlin fascinating is its history and the sense of how it manifests in its vibe. For those who don’t know, West Berlin was an island in the middle of East Germany, geographically isolated from the West while still enjoying all the freedoms of the West - and then some. West Berlin had some laws that applied only there; for example its residents were exempt from military duty, meaning it attracted draft dodgers from all over West Germany. The Berliners were renowned for their liberal attitudes so the city became a magnet for subcultures: artists, intellectuals, drug users, homosexuals … all gravitated towards West Berlin. That alternative, bohemian energy is still very much evident; in fact returning to Iceland with its rampant consumerism and materialism, its snobbishness and small-town attitudes, really had me yearning for the Berliners’ lack of concern about appearances. It was really very refreshing to spend a few days there.

The city’s most exciting [and trendiest] area today is without question Prenzlauer Berg, a neighbourhood in the Eastern part of the city with its own unique history. In the former GDR [East Germany] it was a slum, a melting pot of artists, bohemians and ex-convicts, who when they were released from prison were allocated flats in Prenzlauer Berg. The place fell into disrepair, most people yearned for flats in the newish suburbs of the city that had separate bedrooms and a toilet, as opposed to the old Prenzlauer Berg flats where the toilets were out in the hall, so Prenzlauer Berg became a haven of the displaced. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the area was the seat of the resistance against the East German regime and was essentially where the protests began that eventually led to the crumbling of the Wall. Today most of the buildings have been restored to their former splendor [although there is still the odd one that is a throwback to the GDR] and it’s filled with cafés, trendy little boutiques and amazing restaurants. AND it has cobblestone streets.

So yes - history is everywhere, monuments are everywhere … and I found none more disturbing than the frequent reminders of Jewish persecution during the Third Reich. Walking around one day, we came across small plaques embedded in the sidewalks … they were hardly noticeable, but on closer inspection we saw that they gave the names and dates of birth of the Jews that lived in that location, the date of their deportation, and the name of concentration camp in which they were murdered. In one instance that we came across, the building these plaques referred to - just behind them - was still covered in bullet holes. A grave and powerful reminder of the horrors of the holocaust.

However, by far the most chilling testament to the persecution of the Jews in Germany was in the Jewish cemetery that EPI and I unwittingly came across in Prenzlauer Berg, just as we were emerging from the U-Bahn [subway]. The cemetery was laid to waste by the Nazis during WWII and it has been left pretty much untouched since then. Many of the gravestones have been defaced, and many are shattered and scattered on the ground, overgrown with vines. Standing there in the midst of all that destruction was an overwhelming experience. To be able to ravage the holiest of ground like that is indicative of such a deep lunacy that it simply boggles the mind. It was unreal.

Anyway. I was deeply shocked. And at the risk of seeming disrespectful, I’m going to segue from that very grave subject matter into something infinitely more trivial: our much-discussed toilet situation at the hotel. There turned out to be no cause for concern, everything was very decent, and in fact our hotel was fabulous in every way. We had a corner room on the 23rd floor with a panoramic view [windows on two sides] and while the bathtub was somewhat curiously situated sort of mid-room and had a clear glass pane looking out into the room itself [for the exhibitionists in the crowd] there was a curtain that could be drawn [after the applause had ended]. The toilet was in a separate cubicle [phew] closed off by a frosted glass door, and while the whole thing was kind of OPEN [i.e. the bathroom was not a separate room] it was quite tolerable. Although I probably wouldn’t have wanted to share with someone that I didn’t feel comfortable sharing a bed with. Just … as a benchmark.

OK, SO DO WE GET BERLIN WEATHER, OR NICELAND?
I promise to return to Niceland very soon, next post in fact shall be brought to you from dear old Reykjavík. In the meantime the weather: it continues cold, temps 0 to -8°C with winds 5-13 metres a second, stronger at the south coast. Today it was windy with flurries; currently it is 0°C [32F] and sunrise was at 7.09, sunset at 7.59 pm.

My wonderful cousin Signy called from Canada to check in, see how I was feeling. I’m feeling fine. I was a bit wary, a bit observant of myself, on the alert. But truly, it was just another day, although memories of the events that occurred one year ago today passed through my mind. I wasn’t upset, wasn’t sad. I felt serene, and balanced.

I wondered, now as before, whether my calm feelings about my mother’s death were normal, or if I was just in massive denial. [I’m talking only about my feelings about her dying, not about the subsequent business around her will that dredged up so many devastating feelings and memories of abandonment and dismissal.] As time passed, I came to realize that my feelings were normal and I wasn’t in denial. The truth is that I had said goodbye to my mother so many years before. I’d said goodbye in increments, and grieved the loss of her as a mother, in increments. In contrast to people who are in daily or near-daily contact with their parents, my contact with her was minimal, limited to a few times a year. So I didn’t really miss her because, frankly, there was very little to miss.

There are other people who are in more distress today than I am, people whose lives were more closely bound up with hers. Including my cousin, who has survived cancer, in contrast to my mother, and who gets a bit freaked out by anniversaries like this. And she called me, to find out how I was. Whereas I probably should have been the one calling her. Never mind – I know she forgives me because she’s lovely like that.

It started blowing from the north again today, freezing cold winds down from the Arctic. Not enjoyable in the least. Dragged myself out of the house around noon when my mind was going numb with cabin fever and I was desperate for a breath of fresh air. Hoping for something a bit more agreeable tomorrow. -3°C at the moment but feels like -11, and that’s 27°F and feels like 12°F. The sun came up at 10 am and went down at 5.23 pm.