Reykjavík Grapevine - 04.07.2008, Blaðsíða 16

16 | REYKJAVÍK GRAPEVINE | ISSUE 09—2008
Licensing and
registration of travel-
related services
The Icelandic Tourist Board issues licences to tour operators and travel agents,
as well as issuing registration to booking services and information centres.
Tour operators and travel agents are required to use a special logo approved
by the Icelandic Tourist Board on all their advertisements and on their Internet
website.
Booking services and information centres are entitled to use a Tourist
Board logo on all their material. The logos below are recognised by the
Icelandic Tourist Board.
List of licenced Tour
Operators and Travel
Agencies on:
visiticeland.com
OPINION By natHaniel Flagg — pHoto By gaS
When I was packing my bags to come to Ice-
land, one criterion stood out in particular: “Don’t
look like an American tourist. Don’t look like an
American tourist,” I told myself, weeding out hik-
ing boots and flip-flops in favour of nondescript
sneakers and sandals.
There is a general stigma that comes with be-
ing an American in a foreign country. When I went
to China a few years ago, we were taught that to
avoid a nasty confrontation we were to announce
that we were Canadian if out nationality ever
came up. Americans are frequently dismissed as
obnoxious and inconsiderate. There’s the clas-
sic example of the American foreigner asking for
directions from a bewildered local, shouting in
highly annunciated English as if he were address-
ing someone who was mentally disabled. Ameri-
cans can also be considered manipulative and
opportunistic, shoving people aside who would
get in their way of fully exploiting a situation.
When considering these stereotypes, it's not
difficult to see a parallel with American interna-
tional policies. America has a habit of only ac-
knowledging the rules put forward by the rest of
the world when it is in its best interest (e.g. the
Kyoto Protocol, the authority of the UN, the Gene-
va Conventions). America is often compared to a
bully, headbutting its way through regulations, as-
serting its superiority over other countries and the
preeminence of its opinions. America has a lot to
answer for, and when an American arrives in your
country, that burden falls on them to redeem.
So then, how does Iceland hold up on the
scale of prejudice against Americans? Are they
higher or lower than normal? I had read (for the
sake of honesty, in my travel guide) that Iceland-
ers were a tolerant people and slow to make as-
sumptions. Likewise, I’d heard stories of Ameri-
cans being physically assaulted by Icelanders.
What to believe? This issue, Grapevine decided to
get to the bottom of this prejudice among Iceland-
ers. We sent me, an American, out in the world to
document my experiences in Iceland, the adversi-
ties or lack thereof that I would face with regard to
my nationality.
However, there were still a few hurdles. Gen-
erally speaking, I’ve never been supportive of the
path our nation has taken in recent years; I’m kind
of a hippie, and I’ve had a few “I’m going to move
to Canada” moments. In other words, I don’t quite
“fit the mould.” In fact, I’m often mistaken for an
Icelander. And having picked up a significant
amount of Icelandic, I can perform daily tasks
like buying groceries and saying hello to people
on the street without exposing myself. Somehow, I
needed to become more American.
Doing Double-Duty
But, America is a big place. I can even name
a lot of distinct Americas within that America.
The only national trend I can identify would be
a strong sense of capitalist ambition, which is a
bit abstract to wear on one’s sleeve. I looked and
acted like most of my American friends, but this
clearly wasn't effective enough in displaying my
nationality. Unable to conceptualize my national
dress, I asked a few Icelanders for help. To appear
American, they recommended I do the following:
I should wear flip-flops, shorts, a windbreaker, a
baseball cap, running shoes, polarized athletic
sunglasses, a polo shirt, and tote a big fat camera
around. I should be obnoxious where I am mild,
be rude where I am polite, say I’m a Republican
when I am a Democrat, and talk with a southern
accent when I am actually from New York. Giving
me a look-over, they said
“How are you going to pull this off?”
“I don’t know.” I said.
I tried anyway. For a few days I tried my best
to look less like me, and more like an “American”.
I wore plainer clothes – jeans, a t-shirt and sneak-
ers – along with more touristy things – windbreak-
er, camera, and a travel guide poking out of my
pocket. I spoke only distinctly American English,
but I chickened out on all the acting like a jerk
stuff. Even in the tourist outfit, I gathered no more
(or less) attention than I necessarily deserved. I
behaved decently, and so did everyone else I met.
Apart from getting funny looks for wearing what
appeared to be a raincoat in the warm sunshine,
I was just an American guy walking around Reyk-
javík minding his own business. I soon started get-
ting bored with the article, angry even.
What had I been expecting? If I was going to
be polite, everyone else would be polite to me,
too. If I was going to act like a jerk, people would
just treat me like a jerk. What was there to be
gained? The only thing I could make from acting
like a boor would be a just another poor example
of my own countrymen. The persona I had tried
to put on myself was not American but a hollow
caricature based on the prejudices not only of
my friends, but me as well. I might as well only
be myself. Wasn’t that American enough? I dream
big, celebrate my freedom, and have a soft spot in
my heart for my mother’s apple pie. Despite how
Icelandic I may seem or how progressive I am, that
can be American too. It is. I’m living proof. I put
windbreaker and camera away.
It All Starts with You
One weekend when I was in my normal clothes,
I was having a drink in a bar with a few friends.
Like a moth to a candle a very drunk Icelandic
man, hearing my American English, came up to
me, stuck a finger in my face and began growling:
“And hey you, I’ve seen you, I’ve seen you take off
those glasses I know you don’t need them, they
make you look gay, you fucking gay American…”
And then a few people pulled him away and he
skulked off grumbling to himself.
After a round of uncomfortable laughter, we
composed ourselves, watching him disappear
back into the crowd.
“You should put that in your article,” my
friends said to me.
“Perhaps I will” I said. And I have.
But what does it prove? That all Icelanders, if
drunk enough, will reveal that they are definitive-
ly and irrevocably prejudiced against Americans?
I may have discovered one man’s prejudice, but
then discovering a nation’s prejudice, isn’t that…
well, a little prejudiced? I can’t proof that every
Icelander in the bar that night was thinking that
exact same thing. In seeking Icelandic prejudice,
I just happened upon my own. Damn. Every beast
devours its own tail.
As self-evident as it seems, no country, no
group of people are uniform. It isn’t as if they act
under a singular entity making the same decisions
and opinions for everyone. Nations and groups
are collections of individuals, and you can meet
all sorts of those. There are prejudiced Icelanders,
just as there are rude, pushy, obnoxious Ameri-
cans somewhere in that big country. And there
are polite and friendly Americans, and Icelanders
who will pull a rowdy drunk away from a stranger.
Each of us is our own person; we all make our
own actions. Also, everyone makes judgements,
and we must all be ambassadors of our groups
and mind our manners. America needs to work
on its diplomacy, true enough. So does everyone.
aMerica HaS a lot to anSWer For,
and WHen an aMerican arriveS in
your country, tHat Burden FallS
on tHeM to redeeM.
The Ambassador
Grapevine makes an investigative report on Icelandic prejudices
against Americans - It’s harder than it sounds.
born in tHe u.s.a.