nicelandic traditions

There’s a place here in Reykjavík called the Family Park and Zoo, which as the name suggests is a park for families [i.e. they have play equipment for kids, rides, etc.] and a sort of mini-zoo, with domesticated farm animals, as well as wild animals found in Iceland: seals, foxes, minks and reindeer. Recently they’ve also set up a sort of mini-aquarium, with a few species of fish and other oceanic critters.

Anyway, each year during Midsummer Night they open the park between 11 pm and 1 am, for anyone who wants to listen in on the cows talking, or who fancies a roll around in the dew. They’ve also got lots of other things going on: a bonfire, live music, “strange creatures” roaming around [i.e. people dressed up in costumes], and suchlike. I’ve been meaning to go ever since AAH was little but have never got around to it - until last night. I was talking to a good friend on the phone who mentioned that she was going and told me just how great it was. EPI came home around 11 and I managed to coerce him into coming with me, and we ended up having a really fun time, even if we didn’t have any little kids with us.

We first came upon the seals, who were curious as ever. Is it any wonder the Germans call them “sea dogs”?

Next we checked out the aquarium. Can you spot the flounder?

Ah, there he is:

We went to listen to the cows, but this little guy, at least, wasn’t talking:

Whereas this guy had a lot to say, but I promised I wouldn’t tell …

In a tent there was a band playing jazz …

And outside there was a field for rolling around nekkid in the dew [note the clothes rack, very inviting]:

Meanwhile, Midsummer Night was encroaching on the little lake [although this photo was taken just prior to the one above - the position of the camera made it look darker than it actually was]:

On the way back out we bid farewell to the seals again [can you spot them?]

And on the way home, there was a gorgeous sunset:

… with the Sólfari sculpture looking like some strange prehistoric animal:

And that concludes our little Midsummer Night mystery tour. Thank you for joining us!

TODAY WE HAD YET ANOTHER STUNNING DAY
White-hot, brilliant sunshine. I was sitting inside today working [in an actual proper office] and it was SO HOT. I felt really sluggish and realized I hadn’t actually felt that way on account of the summer heat since I lived abroad. [Implications? Discuss.] Our economy is going to hell, the krona is in free-fall, Icelandair laid off 200 people today, gas is up to ISK 173 per liter [USD 7.40] … but at least we have beautiful weather. Temps right now 12°C [54F], sunrise this morning was at 2.57, sunset due for 12.03 tomorrow.

Today is one of my favourite days of the year here in Niceland because today is the day that all the Nicelanders try to trick each other into ‘Running April’, as it’s called here. What this means is that the April fool’s joke has to get you to cross a threshold, otherwise it’s a failure.

In past years YT has been highly successful in the April-running sweepstakes, getting EPI and AAH to cross the threshold every time. I didn’t play any tricks today, mostly because it was a normal working day and everyone had left by the time I got up and by the time they got home they were already well on guard. EPI meanwhile sent me a text message this afternoon asking me to please call him at a given number, not his cell phone number because he was running out of battery juice, and that it was urgent. I suspected not a thing and dialled the number, only to get a recorded message that it was for a rather dubious enterprise offering certain, ahem, carnal services. [Apparently this was a SMS message that was making the rounds today.] However, EPI didn’t get me to cross a threshold, so his tomfoolery failed, nyah nyah!

The other fun thing about this day is that the media all plays the game, and tries to get people out to run April. Fréttablaðið had a report on its front page that between 7.30 and 9.30 this morning a certain gas station in the city was offering gas for ISK 107 a litre as opposed to the ISK 149 that it costs these days [we have massive ongoing protests about this, the country’s truck drivers are out every day blocking traffic, I feel like I’m living in freaking France] to highlight how much of the price per litre the government pockets in tax. ~ Morgunblaðið ran this story that Bob Dylan was in town to check out the facilities for his upcoming concert here and that he was going to do some busking along with Iceland’s singular busker, Jo Jo [seriously, he is the only one], outside Eymundsson in Austurstræti at 2 pm. ~ Meanwhile, visir.is reported that Al Gore, who is [really and truly] in town to give a talk tomorrow on [what else] global warming, would be staying on a yacht formerly owned by Saddam Hussein and now owned by Icelandic entrepreneur Pálmi Haraldsson. The yacht was supposed to arrive in Reykjavík at 3 pm and the public was being invited to view it before the US security people went in to inspect it for bombs and stuff. ~The evening news on Stöð 2 ran an elaborate story that the first iPhones were finally being sold in Iceland on account of Vodafone having unexpectedly reached an agreement with Apple. The clip showed a line of people and interviewed one punter who was shown opening up his phone package and going on about how great it was that he’d waited, as opposed to ordering his phone from the US. The phones [the clip said] would be sold at the main Vodafone store in Reykjavík and Akureyri for another few hours, or while supplies lasted from the rather limited shipment that had been received. ~ There were lots more, but probably the best one was by the Feminists Association, which claimed it would protest the objectification of women at the Vesturbæjarlaug swimming pool at 5 pm today, and urged women to swim topless. Rock on!

AND EVEN THE WEATHER PLAYED ALONG AND GOT EVERYONE OUTSIDE
Because it was gorgeous today, brilliant sunshine and less wind than we’ve had in the past few days, although there was still enough of it to give me a good workout during my run. Spirits were buoyant and it honestly felt like spring had finally arrived. At the moment we have 1°C [34F], with sunrise this morning at 6.44, sunset at 8.20 pm.

PS - Apparently Google ran an April fool’s story about being able to backdate emails. I had to smile [wryly] because coincidentally I had just talked to someone who I’m sure would have jumped at the chance to do so prior to our exhchange. I’ll say no more.

[Incidentally, I haven’t forgotten about the questions.]

Here in Niceland we get the phenomenon known as the árshátíð, which literally translated means ‘annual celebration’ and figuratively translated means ‘a big party in which there is entertainment and everyone gets juiced and to which you must wear really nice clothes and get your hair done beforehand.’ [NB ‘juiced’ is not an absolute requirement, particularly if the árshátíð is being thrown by, say, SÁÁ]. Every company and every organisation and every saumaklúbbur* and every equestrian society and every organized group of any kind will inevitably throw an árshátíð for its employees/members once a year, that is if they want to be taken seriously as a company/society/sewing club/whatever.

Anyway, over the years the árshátíðir have been getting progressively more extravagant, and now many companies, organizations etc. throw their parties in other countries. Most often this will entail their employees flying over for free, while spouses have to pay for their flight but generally get a discount. Hotel accommodation is included for 2-3 nights, and there is a lavish dinner on at least one of those nights.

Two years ago, EPI’s company invited everyone to Copenhagen for their árshátíð, last year it was Hótel Búðir, and this year it’s Berlin. EPI and I have also travelled to Paris on one occasion, courtesy of another employer. Needless to say I consider this one of Iceland’s more pleasing traditions.

EPI and I have decided to extend and are staying a full week. We’re meeting up with friends that I haven’t seen for about 15 years, not since we both lived in Essen … from there they moved to Berlin, I moved to Iceland. They’ve got an entire day planned for us on Sunday, replete with custom sightseeing and then dinner at their place. Can’t wait!

And so dear readers, the next installment of The Iceland Weather Report shall be brought to you from Berlin. Bis dann!

I’M NOT SORRY TO BE LEAVING HERE
Because the weather has turned cold and nasty again, read: windy. I went out this morning completely unsuspecting, imagining a perfectly amicable morning to greet me, but NO. I froze my buns off, walking downtown. As the day has progressed the wind has only become colder and stronger, so I’ll be glad to wave bye-bye. Sunrise this morning at 7.52, sunset at 7.23; temps currently 2°C [36F].

PS. I’ll be sure to give you a full toilet report.

* A saumaklúbbur is also a Nicelandic phenomenon, which literally translated means ‘sewing club’ and figuratively translated means ‘a bunch of women who get together on a regular basis and try to outdo each other in the lavishness of the refreshments they serve.’ It generally has very little to do with sewing.

I was somewhat surprised yesterday to discover that three of my favourite days of the year are already coming up right after the weekend: bolludagur [Cream Puff Day], sprengidagur [Eat Salted Lamb Until You Burst Day] and öskudagur [Ash Wednesday]. This happy trio marks the beginning of Lent, and as you’ll probably know Easter comes exceptionally early this year, hence their early arrival.

Bolludagur comes first, on Monday. On this day children are supposed to sneak into their parents’ room before they get out of bed in the morning and spank them on the bottom with colourful wands specifically made for that purpose. The number of spanks they manage to get in determines the number of bollur - cream puffs - they get to imbibe. In other words, hitting your mother five times on the butt will earn you five cream puffs.

The spanking bit does not extend to grownups [unless they are partial to that sort of thing] who can simply go out and buy their own cream puffs, like EPI and I did today. In fact, most people here get an early start on the bollur and buy them as soon as the bakeries start offering them, which is generally the weekend prior to the official day. Here’s a little educational video that mbl.is put together to teach people how to eat their bollur with a minimum of fuss. Watch and learn.

Right after bolludagur comes sprengidagur, when you’re supposed to eat saltkjöt og baunir [salted lamb and split-pea soup] until you burst. Of the three days, this is my favourite, simply because I LOVE salted lamb and split pea soup. Seriously, it’s one of the most superexcellent meals ever. Super bad for you, too, what with all the sodium and preservatives and whatnot, so eating it once a year is about right. Today we went grocery shopping and bought salted lamb in copious amounts and already just the thought of Tuesday’s dinner is making me swoon. - Incidentally, the idea behind sprengidagur is that you eat so much that you can fast for the entire 40 days of Lent, which of course is what EPI and I will be doing.

When that’s done, we’re onto öskudagur, which is the same as Ash Wednesday and sort of like Iceland’s version of Halloween. When I was a little kid you were supposed to sew all these little pouches and fill them with ash and then pin them to the backs of unsuspecting adults who would then go around for the entire day with little pouches pinned to their backs and supposedly be objects of ridicule. Personally I always thought this day was kind of stupid and never as much fun as it was made out to be. In fact, it was no fun at all. So you managed to pin a pouch to some person’s back - whoopee! They walked off, and you were out of a pouch that you’d put considerable effort into making. Absurd.

Up in the north, though, in Akureyri, they had a far superior tradition: everybody got dressed up in costumes and then banged a wooden barrel that supposedly contained a dead cat. This activity, prosaically enough, was called “banging the cat out of the barrel”. There was also candy involved, although I can’t remember exactly how - I only took part in this activity on one occasion. Here’s a picture [I’m the one dressed up as a demon, pretty scary huh?]:

Anyway, the modern version of öskudagur is a lot more fun in that kids get all dressed up and go around to stores and businesses and sing songs in return for candy. More gratifying than hanging silly pouches onto the backs of clueless adults, I’m sure you’ll agree.

AND WE’RE STILL IN THE IRON CLUTCH OF WINTER
Last night was like the deep freezer - when I went out to drive AAH to a dinner party its was -15 fricking °C, which hardly ever happens around here. [What? You thought Iceland was cold?] It got so bad that there was record hot water use in Reykjavík [we heat our homes with geothermal water, as I’m sure you know] and it got so bad that a number of swimming pools had to be shut down because of a shortage of hot water. Something I’ve never heard of happening before. Anyway, we’re in for some respite as early as tomorrow, meaning I can go for a run without getting frostbite on the inside of my lungs, phew. Right now it’s only -3°C [27F] and the sun came up at 10.07 and went down at 5.17 pm.

PS - THANK YOU to all of you who voted for the Weather Report in The Bloggies, and not least to all of you who have emailed or left comments with kind words and good wishes. It really means a lot!

Got an email from my uncle this evening, assuring me that he had cast his vote for the Weather Report [last chance, everybody!] and also reminding me that I have some pretty significant ties to the captain’s quarter noted in the last post. Which, as it happens, I had not forgotten, but had simply omitted because I didn’t have a photo of the particular house central to those ties - the house that my great-grandfather built, and where both my father and my uncle were born.

My great-grandfather on my father’s side was a sea captain who graduated from the Stýrimannaskóli in 1912. Like all the other sea captains he built a house in the area, on Öldugata, which - if you remember your lesson from last post - means ‘wave street’ and is a derivative of alda [it’s alda in the possessive case, in fact] - as well as being a woman’s [given] name.

My great-grandfather named his only daughter Alda [well, Guðrún Alda, actually, but she was always called Alda], which probably says something about his strong ties to the sea. And because it is common here in Iceland to name children after their grandparents, I wound up with the same name as my grandmother - Alda, meaning ‘wave’. When I moved back to Iceland nearly 14 years ago, the first apartment I bought was on Bárugata, which - you’ll recall - also means ‘wave street’ and happens to run parallel to ‘Öldugata’ - ‘Alda’s street’ - where my great-grandfather built his house, and where both my father and my uncle were born. In fact, I looked down on both ‘wave streets’ from my window - Öldugata from one side of the flat, and Bárugata on the other.

And thus concludes the story of YT’s ties to the captain’s quarter.

AND AS OF TODAY, I NO LONGER HAVE PERMISSION TO BITCH ABOUT THE WEATHER
Because today totally takes the cake in the miserable weather sweepstakes. It was awful. In fact I decided to white-knuckle it through my endorphin withdrawal today, despite the fact that I was desperate for a run, because the weather was so damn ghastly. What was it, you ask? Blizzard, snowdrift, freezing rain? Hell no, that would have been fun. This was the coldest mutha of a wind we’ve had for years, a mean wind that blew through in violent spasms and just sounded bad. There was not a single bit of humour in the weather today - it was just nasty. Right now we have -8°C but feels like -18, and that’s 18F and feels like 0°F. [Yeah yeah, I know you have it worse in Minnesota, and believe me, I sympathize!] Sunup today 10.13 am, sunset 5.10 pm.

PS in case anyone is interested in knowing where this captain’s quarter and environs are located, here’s a map.

I have my favicon back, HUZZAH!! Look! Up next to the web address.

OK, now that that’s sorted, I can finally get back to relating the inane details of my daily life.

So yesterday was feed-your-man-putrid-shark day here in Niceland, also known as bóndadagur, or ‘man of the house day’. It’s the day when women are supposed to go out and buy rotten food for their husbands or boyfriends or partners, and bring it home along with a bouquet of tulips. Actually, I didn’t know about the tulip thing until yesterday, when I went to Hagkaup to pick up some lamb filets and lobster tails for dinner [note that I didn’t buy any putrid shark because I’m civilized] and I noticed that all the pails that had previously contained tulips were empty [except for a couple of bouquets with pink tulips] whereas all the pails containing roses were full. Hm, thought I, and continued on my merry way, until a few minutes later when I noticed a swarm of women descending on the flower pails. Naturally I had to investigate and promptly discovered that the reason for the commotion was that the tulip pails were being filled and the women were virtually trampling all over each other trying to get at them.

Which is when I realized: I was supposed to bring EPI tulips and I didn’t even know. Damn! How had he put up with me all those years? Tulipless?? I snatched a bouquet quick as a flash, and triumphantly delivered it to an overjoyed EPI a few minutes later.

Dinner was excellent, and EPI didn’t miss the rotten food at all. Because, well, he had tulips. And an excellent bottle of red wine. And YT doting on him for the entire evening. At least up to the point where I just had to put on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy because I was getting serious withdrawal symptoms [have I mentioned my recent Grey’s Anatomy obsession? Dampened only by my annoyance that Derek and Meredith - Merde-ith - are taking the whole damn second season to get it on? Sheesh, why can’t he just accept that he really loves her and be done with it, already!*] at which point EPI made himself scarce because if there’s one thing that EPI cannot stand it is hospital dramas. And thus ended our ‘man around the house day’, with YT flaked out on the sofa watching Grey’s Anatomy with AAH, eating Ben and Jerry’s New York Fudge Chunk ice cream, and EPI in his play room, strumming his guitar.

WEATHERMAN SEZ WE’RE IN FOR A STORM
A nasty, wet-weather storm, that will undoubtedly turn our winter wonderland to slush. Winds are going to be up to 30 m/s tomorrow. Today was overcast, with hardly any wind which made it excellent for skiing. And, as promised, pictures. Sunrise/sunset same as below.

* Please, nobody feed me any spoilers!

So, Christmas officially ended yesterday here in Niceland, with the passing of þrettándinn, meaning ‘the thirteenth’ - or, in plain old English - Twelfth Night. [Incidentally, I wondered for years why it was called the 12th in English and the 13th in Icelandic … until I figured out that here in Iceland we celebrate Christmas a day earlier than the Anglo Saxons. D’oh!]

That day - þrettándinn - is traditionally marked with more brennur [at which people dressed up in elf and fairy costumes sometimes appear, so yes, this guy had some of his facts straight. Fireworks displays are held, members of the general populace shoot up any leftover rockets, and also take down their Christmas decorations, making this also a day of flying Christmas trees, as people generally toss them down from their balconies when they’re done. From there they are dragged to the sidewalks where bright orange trucks from the City come pick them up to give them a second life as wood chips to be used on walking paths, meaning that anyone who has become overly attached to their tree can go visit it later.

We decided to let our beautiful tree stay up for one extra day because, well, it is just so darn good looking. Plus we had people over for dinner last night and EPI’s sister brought a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and, well, you just can’t take down a Christmas tree when you’re high on Veuve Cliquot. It’s just not humanly possible. Trust me. You don’t even wanna try.

Anyway. Christmas is over, the sun rises higher in the sky each day, and the New Year stretches ahead like an unwritten blog post. Life is good.

IT’S LOOKING MIGHTY GORGEOUS OUT THERE
Frigid and clear these next few days is what the weatherman is forecasting. Currently -2°C [28F], sunrise was at 11.12 and sunset due for 3.56 pm.

PS - Some of you may be surprised to see that yesterday’s post has been pulled. The subject matter turned out to be a bit too flammable and attracted interest from camps that YT had no idea were watching. Potentially this might have harmed not only YT but also someone very close to me. Hence measures were taken.

In Germany, they have a half-hour TV show that they’ve aired on New Year’s Eve day every year for the past 40 years or so, that is an inextricable part of the tradition over there [and also happens to be one of the few things on TV not dubbed into German].

Mindful of its popularity, and because we love our traditions here at the Weather Report, we give you our own little custom: the same New Year’s post as last year and the year before that, and probably next year and the year after that. Because it’s our favourite joke. Happy New Year, everyone!!!

So the mayhem is underway. The heart-stopping explosions out of nowhere started yesterday … incredibly startling at first, but quick to become commonplace. I’m talking firecrackers and fireworks being exploded beneath people’s windows and in other inappropriate places. If any of you foreigners visiting our fair isle and reading this are wondering why there are not a single trash can in sight and all the outdoor mailboxes are barricaded - that’s why. Measures have been taken.

Yes, dear readers, fireworks are sold freely to the general public up here in the days between Christmas and New Year’s, although FORTUNATELY there is an age limit of 18 years so of course there is NO WAY for underaged kids to get their hands on them, just as there is NO WAY for them to get their hands on any liquor for New Year’s Eve. Meaning that those explosions are almost all generated by adults with their full wits about them [heheh - yah right].

Meanwhile, this e-zine has listed Reykjavic [sic] as one of the ten best places in the world to spend New Year’s Eve, right up there with Vegas and downtown Greensboro [?]. Far be it from me to contest this claim, although personally I would have put Reykjavík at number 1 because it hosts, without question, the most superexcellent New Year’s Eve party in all the world - the entire city, all of it. However, I must confess I was slightly taken aback by the editor’s description of our antics up here on New Year’s Eve, to wit:

… the locals celebrate by welcoming tourists into their homes, serving them steaming drink, lighting bonfires and prancing around in elf and faerie costumes. Just like in Lord of the Rings! As a bonus, if the night is clear you’ll see the splendor of the Northern Lights as midnight strikes.

First of all, I have to wonder what sort of shit his sources were smokin’ because … elves and faeries? Okay. And, you know, personally I’ve never known anyone to fling open their doors to tourists to welcome them into their homes to serve them hot drinks … but then maybe I’m just hanging around with the wrong people. Third, there is not a fricking hope in hell that you’ll see the northern lights at midnight on New Year’s Eve because a) the skies are absolutely FILLED with exploding fireworks and b) the spaces in between are absolutely FILLED with billowing clouds of smoke from exploding fireworks.

But hey - far be it from me to detract anyone from getting dressed up Just like in Lord of the Rings! but I’m willing to bet that anyone who does will be a tourist who has been reading YES Weekly and thinks this is the way we do it up here. Come to think of it, I hope lots and lots of people do, because, you know, wouldn’t that be hilarious? Hordes of tourists all dressed up like elves and faeries, sniffing around the locals’ front doors, desperate to be let in for some steaming drink? Bring it on!

MEANWHILE, WE MAY NOT SEE ANY FIREWORKS AT ALL
Because they’re forecasting horrific weather for New Year’s Eve, meaning all our brennur may be cancelled and people will be advised to stay indoors and absolutely NOT to fire off any rockets that may unwittingly end up inside people’s coats or pants legs or nostrils. A bad storm is supposed to come through tomorrow and is supposed to persist on the 31st. Which will be a major drag … the only good thing I can think of that may come out of it is that my dear stepdaughter who has been here for Christmas and who is supposed to fly back to New York tomorrow will have her flight cancelled and thus will be able to spend New Year’s with us. We Shall See. Actually the same sort of weather happened a couple of years ago and all the brennur were moved to New Year’s Day, which just wasn’t the same. But, whaddaryagonnado. The temps have been inching upwards all day and are now 2°C [36F], sunrise was at 11.22 am and sunset at 3.37 pm.

PS actually to be fair there is old folklore that elves and fairies appear on the Þrettándinn - Twelfth Night, January 6th. There are brennur [bonfires] held on that night also, and in some parts of the country people dress up like the king and queen of the elves and make an appearance at the brennur - for the kids, much like Santa Claus.