Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.12.2006, Side 5
08_REYKJAVÍK_GRAPEVINE_ISSUE18_006_IMMIGRANTS
The term ‘jet-set’ conjures up fairly vivid im-
ages of things like champagne, guitar amps,
geisha girls, breakfast on the Concord or, nat-
urally, whatever the present equivalent may
be… but certainly not Polish blacksmiths.
Yet, the ‘here, there, and everywhere’ feel-
ing of Poles in Iceland and all over Europe
sort of fits the ‘jet-set’ criteria.
To be fair, there is no great exodus from
Poland at the moment. It’s more of a con-
stant ebb and flow, where many of the par-
ticipants are constantly recycling careers all
over Europe and returning home every two-
to-six months. It’s interesting because some-
how, almost overnight it seems, Poles have
come to make up the single largest minority
group in Iceland.
Not too long ago I was sitting in a bar in
Reykjavík with an Icelandic friend.
”Kurwa,” he said in disgust at some-
thing.
Now, when in Iceland, Reykjavík espe-
cially, one gets a feeling of slight discon-
nect with the ills of the world. That’s why
I was particularly taken aback when Tandri
managed to know, remember, and properly
use the filthiest word one can say in Polish. I
quizzed him about it. It turned out he worked
with a group of Polish guys and more were
coming all the time. Somehow it felt like two
worlds colliding. Like my girlfriend and my
parents were going out drinking together
without me knowing. “Yes”, said my other
friend Kiddi, “I’m going to visit Poland in the
spring.”
How Icelanders and Poles were coexist-
ing, in agreement on things, amazed me.
After asking around a bit it was fairly plain
to see that Poles were being accepted in a
way that maybe other immigrant groups
weren’t. There’s no way to quantify this and
no metrics to put a real number on it. It just
happened. Somewhere, along the line while
doing research for this piece, I found an in-
teresting statement. In a study done by Kári
Gylfason (one of only a handful of people
who have done any real in-depth research on
this topic) he notes, “Many Icelandic employ-
ers I talked to, noted that Poles were easy to
employ as they had similar culture and values
to Icelanders.”
I guess I fail to see this and, being Polish
myself, think Icelanders would be baffled by
Polish culture and news headlines (example:
“Roof Caves in at Indoor Pigeon Race, Doz-
ens Injured”).
“Yeah, it’s true. They’re good workers.
Nice people. There’s a lot of them here now,”
my friend said.
Although the Polish population in Iceland
seems relatively new, to be fair, one must
begin to consider the Polish and Icelandic
connection in the 1970s. During this time it
seems like a lot of Icelandic fishing compa-
nies had their vessels built in Polish shipyards.
Naturally, though quite slowly, through these
connections the Poles managed to find their
way into jobs in the Icelandic fishing indus-
try. Also at the time there seemed to be a
shortage of blacksmiths in Iceland. Polish
blacksmiths filled the shortage by working in
short stints on specific projects then return-
ing home. For most of the 1970s and 80s
it may have seemed like there were a lot of
Poles living and working in Iceland.
But then, they were all just coming and
going. In truth, the number in the 80s never
really exceeded more than a total of 70 peo-
ple. In fact, throughout the 80s only 1.4 per-
cent of the total population of Iceland was
foreign. This tiny percentage was from the
Anglophone (the U.K., Australia, etc.) world
and decidedly distant from Poland.
Historically, labour unions, as in the case
with the blacksmiths, and also the Ministry
of Social Affairs have both seen immigrant
labour as a temporary shortage solution.
Only recently have work permits been grant-
ed for more than a few months. Even then,
in Iceland, the permits have always been
granted to the employer, never the worker.
Lastly, the Icelandic government reserved the
ability to revoke the permit (see the EEA in
1993). There’s no graceful misunderstanding
here. All of this was a recipe for constant but
deliberately short-term work and an overall
protection of the Icelandic labour market.
Then something interesting happened.
Sometime after the mid-90s Icelandic un-
employment fell dramatically. Icelanders had
begun to leave the fishing industry and the
Poles happened to be there to fill the gaps.
[This is often the case with immigrant la-
bourers. They do not “steal” jobs, rather,
they take the jobs that aren’t already taken.]
When the employment situation changed
again after the mid-90s the Poles returned
in greater numbers. So much so that their
population increased from a seemingly insig-
nificant 70 to over 500 in 1995.
I’ve been warned, more than once, that
there is no real reliable information about the
scale of Polish migration. All research seems
to indicate that there are about 800,000
Poles working all over Europe and the num-
ber of them working in Iceland is approach-
ing 4,000. Of course, with numbers like these
new cottage industries are unavoidable. The
first Polish market in Iceland opened recently
(Stokrotka in Hafnarfjörður). Astonishing-
ly, every week about 250 flights (most on
cheaper airlines) leave Poland bound for the
United Kingdom. Most remain there. Of the
800,000, roughly half are working in either
the U.K. or Ireland, but, more and more of-
ten Poles are choosing Iceland.
Again, it’s both reassuring and surprising
to find that the Icelanders are embracing the
Poles. At the tail end of September a Polish
culture festival, the first one in Iceland, was
held in Reykjavík. The president of Iceland
was in attendance and the whole affair was
well received. It seems as though this was a
public validation of a long journey. A journey
that began over 30 years ago in the ship-
yards of Poland. It goes to show that one of
the great equalisers in this world is an open
labour market. If only because, when forced
together, two entirely different cultures can
find similarity, shake hands, share a drink
and, if they dare, anecdotes about the short
and imagined distance between people.
A Short History of Poles in Iceland
Text by Jan Kargulewicz Photo by Skari
Now, when in Iceland, Reykjavík especially, one
gets a feeling of slight disconnect with the ills of
the world. That’s why I was particularly taken
aback when Tandri managed to know, remember,
and properly use the filthiest word one can say in
Polish.
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