Reykjavík Grapevine - 07.04.2006, Blaðsíða 20

Icelanders whose livelihood depends on the
base are currently wondering how they’ll be
making a living this fall.
In addition to jobs, one must also take into
account the fact that the maintenance and fire
department of Leifur Eiríksson International
Airport are provided by the NATO base, and
the fact that the 56th Rescue Squadron of the
US Navy assists the Icelandic Coast Guard
with search and rescue operations.
While Ásgrímsson and Reykjanesbær
Mayor Árni Sigfússon are currently negoti-
ating how to deal with the situation, Stein-
grímur Sigfússon remains optimistic.
“I think we will be able to provide jobs for
these people,” he told the Grapevine. “Some
will simply switch employers, some will retire
and the labour market in the capital area is
growing. Some of them could either move
here or commute to work here.” Reykjavík, it
should be noted, is about half an hour’s drive
from Keflavík.
The Grapevine went to the base two days
after the closure announcement. Morale was
not high.
“I heard that the base was going to close
the day before yesterday, during lunch,” said
Rakel, a single mother of three and a kitchen
worker for the Three Flags restaurant on the
base. “I received no warning whatsoever. I was
like, ‘Oh my God, am I going to be unem-
ployed? What’s happening?’ I’m still in a state
of shock.”
Rakel doesn’t consider commuting to
Reykjavík for work an option.
“Who’s going to take care of my kids?”
she asked. “Plus, it’s very expensive having to
drive to Reykjavík and back.”
Rakel believes the Icelandic government
should instead invest in the area.
“They’re always talking about building up
companies out in the country and everything,”
she said. “They never did anything for this
area here because they were always depending
on the base. They’re going to have to work on
job development in this area, because I don’t
see any other solution about it.”
Michaela, who also works at the restau-
rant, took a similar train of thought.
“For me, it’s going to be hard,” said Mi-
chaela, “because I have kids and I just bought
my apartment last November. I’ve been think-
ing about moving to Reykjavík, and I’m going
to go now. I don’t want to be going up there
when everyone else starts looking for work at
the same time.”
Birgir, the chef at the restaurant, was
worried that his staff might have to leave even
earlier than the fall.
“There’s a lot of military people who’ll be
leaving in May or June,” he told the Grape-
vine. “There’ll be something like 500 people
here then, and we can’t keep the club open
for that few people. There’ll be a lot of people
working here who’ll be leaving a lot earlier
than everybody else.”
Birgir’s own job prospects are unpredict-
able at best.
“Well, I have this one job that I could
take in May,” he said. “Although I don’t know
if it’ll pay as much as this one, but that one’s
only until September, so then I have to go and
find another job.”
Birgir also had little faith in commuting
to Reykjavík.
“People are not going to have houses down
here and drive to Reykjavík for a job that
pays less than what you would make here,” he
told us. “Some people have worked here for
years and years, and have worked up in the
pay scale. They’ll have to go to Reykjavík and
start from scratch. The guys in parliament in
Reykjavík, they’re just sitting in Reykjavík and
don’t have a clue what’s going on down here.
They haven’t come down here.”
A Great Base for Finishing that Novel
Petty Officer 2nd Class James Barlow gave
the Grapevine a tour of the base. As we
walked and drove around the base, it was hard
not to notice the ghost-town feel the place
already has.
Barlow, like the vast majority of the
men and women serving on the base, finds
himself in a sort of limbo – as his orders aren’t
scheduled to finish until February, he will
either have his time cut short early, or it’ll be
extended in another part of the world. While
one can request whether or not to be sent
home early or serve elsewhere, the decision is
ultimately up to the chain of command.
“If I’m sent home early, that screws every-
thing up for me,” he told us. “I was planning
on paying off my debts and finishing school.
I’m going to have a real hard time doing that
if they send me home.”
We tried our hand at talking to two dif-
ferent Air Force servicemen, but their replies
were almost identical to each other: “No one
wants to hear my opinion.” Unfazed, Bar-
low got on his phone and called some of his
friends to meet us at his room.
The barracks that Barlow shares with nine
others are the size of an average block apart-
ment building in Reykjavík, with enough to
room to house hundreds at a time. Just walk-
ing into the building itself you get a Shining
vibe – this place is so deserted, your imagina-
tion wants to fill the vacuum. Shortly after we
showed up, Barlow’s friends arrived.
HM3 Clay Garcia, DN Jarret Meyers and
HM3 Pattison Mall are all enlisted men in
the Navy, and have been in Iceland 7 months,
16 months and 11 months respectively. Like
their Icelandic co-workers, they were also
taken by surprise with the news of the base’s
closing, if to a lesser degree.
“I’d been hearing rumours every day for
a couple of weeks,” said Meyers. “But I just
thought someone else would take over, instead
of us just packing up and leaving.”
“They only told us they’re shrinking the
base not closing it. That’s the official word,”
said Mall. “Who knows who they’re leaving
behind? We’re all single. And that’s the big
catch, because if they’re going to leave a couple
people behind and save some money, it’s prob-
ably going to be us single people. America
likes to have its hand in every cookie jar in the
world and that includes here. I don’t see them
completely shutting us down.”
Garcia was upbeat about the news of the
base’s closure.
“Personally, I was kind of happy,” he told
us. “Not necessarily that they’re closing the
base, but I got a year left in the military, so
this is kind of an opportunity where they
might cut my orders short so I can be out of
the military, period. But it sucks for Iceland
because a lot of the guys working on the base
are going to be out of jobs. I just hope that the
military helps them find jobs in Iceland.”
Mall wasn’t particularly worried about his
own situation, either.
“I don’t have any kids and I’m debt-free,”
he said. “Plus I’m a bit too liberal for the
military lifestyle, so I’m hoping they’ll cut my
orders short. They’re not going to pay for me
to f ly somewhere else, take a job where I’m not
working most of the time for eight months,
and then check out.”
“They might try to recruit me to re-en-
list,” added Garcia. “But they’re not going to
get very far with that.”
“They can actually extend you for three
more years than you’re signed up to do,” cor-
rected Mall. “It’s called putting a stop-loss on
you. They do it if they feel as though you’d be
useful somewhere else.”
So the trick to get out of that is to appear
as useless and incompetent as possible?
“I wish,” sighed Mall. “I’ve been trying that
trick for a while. It’s hard to get kicked out of
the military.”
The three were curious about the
economic and political situation in Iceland,
asking questions about the level of unemploy-
ment, what the different political parties are
and how they feel about the base. Mostly, they
expressed concern for the Icelanders they’ve
come to work with and know.
“I mean, it’s not just about the people who
work on the base,” Mall pointed out. “You also
have to think about the people who go off base
to spend money in town. Their going could
start kind of a depression, couldn’t it?”
“I’m going to miss the Icelandic people I
work with,” added Garcia.
“I know they got families to support,”
added Mall. “I hope it doesn’t affect them too
much.”
“They’re all awesome people,” said Garcia.
“It sucks that a few months from now they’re
all going to be jobless.”
Gunnar Hrafn Jónsson contributed reporting to
this article.
“Some people have worked here for years and years,
and have worked up in the pay scale. They’ll have to go
to Reykjavík and start from scratch,” Birgir, chef at the
Keflavík base.
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