Reykjavík Grapevine - 07.05.2010, Side 29

17
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 05 — 2010
Read our full interview with Vilhjálmur
Árnason on www,grapevine.is. It has lots
more info.
Three years of chasing news
stories for my journalism
degree left me needing to
run away on my own for a
bit. I just needed some peace of mind. I
thought I'd found the most beautiful and
remote place on earth when I actually
managed to land myself in the centre of
this year's biggest story.
I arrived in Iceland as an au pair,
and soon discovered my family to be
intolerable. After three excruciating
weeks of picking up too many half-
eaten bowls of cereal, I took off to the
southernmost town of Iceland to work
at a hostel. Vík í Mýrdal, pop. 300, sits
in a mountain valley on the amazing
black sand beach. I was just beginning
to find some peace and quiet when I
was reminded that Iceland is a volcanic
island.
Truthfully, I didn't know much about
volcanoes before arriving here. When
I first heard of the eruption, my brain
immediately started replaying terrifying
images from Dante's Peak and recalling
the plaster casts of Pompeii. Although
by then I had already learned that not
all volcanoes are violently explosive and
capable of swallowing entire cities within
minutes, I couldn't help these thoughts. I
never imagined that thousands of people
would be rushing to see these fiery
fissures.
But I joined them. I stood on warm
lava rocks and felt the waves of heat
hit my skin as shoots of hot lava burst
through earth. I've never felt so small and
powerless as I did standing on the edge
of an active volcano.
Few days later, the world would
understand my sentiments of
powerlessness. What's considered
a small volcano in Iceland moved its
eruption site a few kilometres west
underneath a glacier and the world is
put on hold. Towns are covered in ash,
hundreds of flights are cancelled, and
tiny Iceland with half the population of
my hometown of Austin is suddenly on
the front page of every newspaper.
The whole world is frantically worried,
yet living less than 20 miles away from
the craters people here are as calm as
ever. During the few hours last week
when the road both east and west of
my town were closed off—east due to
heavy ash dispersion and west due to
flooding—no one even skipped their
afternoon tea.
And then there was more ash
When the “death cloud” first reached Vík,
schools closed down and people spent
days locked inside their homes. The
strong Icelandic wind coloured the town
a new shade of grey each morning, and
no one went outside without a facemask.
Although the ash wasn't deadly toxic, it's
probably about as healthy as breathing
in powder cement. A tiny crack in the
hostel's front door left the living room
covered in a thin layer of black powder.
I thought waking up to the smell of ash
was bad enough, until I caught a ride
with a Reuters photographer to the midst
of it all.
Driving into the heavy ash clouds in
the evacuated zone was one of the most
terrifying things I've ever experienced.
It didn't get gradually darker, but there
was almost a defined edge between grey
and black sky. Once we crossed that line,
not only did we lose sight of everything
beyond a few meters, we were chilled
to our bones. We parked the car for five
minutes to snap some photos, and the
windshield was covered in lines of black
ash. We looked at each other and agreed
that it was time to go.
It's been snowing for a few days now
in Vík, and most of the ash has found its
way to the ground. Although the air has
cleared up, the effect of the volcano is
still felt. The first eruption left the hostel
fully booked day after day, but the ash
from this one has left it like it's January.
The giant mess of cancelled flights has
only sent cancellations our way as well.
Even during this time of misfortune,
I haven't witnessed anything more than
a sigh. Kids are still having birthday
parties and families are still getting
together every night. People here seem
to understand the unpredictable ways
of nature as well as our own limitations,
and they are patiently waiting. Perhaps
Icelanders have been jaded by the erratic
weather of the island, but they are just
not ones to panic. I guess after you've
seen snow in July, nothing can bring you
down.
Iceland Knows How To Chill
Opinion | Wenjing Zhang
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Even during this time of
misfortune, I haven't witnessed
anything more than a sigh. Kids
are still having birthday parties
and families are still getting
together every night. People
here seem to understand the
unpredictable ways of nature as
well as our own limitations, and
they are patiently waiting. Perhaps
Icelanders have been jaded by the
erratic weather of the island, but
they are just not ones to panic.
Travel Agency
Authorised by
Icelandic Tourist Board