Reykjavík Grapevine - 10.08.2012, Side 26

26
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 12 — 2012
Sun peers through the large windows
at Hressó on Andri Valgeirsson, shin-
ing on his transition lenses and heavy 5
o'clock shadow. He sometimes comes to
Hressó when he's in 101 Reykjavík, but
most of the time you won't see his dark
navy Pumas around the downtown area.
That's because Andri uses a wheel-
chair. He was born with arthrogryposis,
an uncommon disorder that can affect
joints, limit range of motion and cause
muscle weakness. Andri, who’s now 27
years old, has been in a wheelchair since
around the time of his 16th birthday
after undergoing a failed surgery to cor-
rect the angle of his legs.
For many in his position, the shops
and restaurants in downtown Reykjavík
are simply out of bounds. The steps,
curbs and cobblestones that line the ca-
fés and stores on Laugavegur and near
Alþingi cause constant frustration for
wheelchair users. So they mostly just
stay away.
In many ways the wheelchair, as well
as ramps, lifts and accessible parking
spaces, has become symbolic of both
disability and accessibility issues. But it
should be noted that accessibility covers
a wide range of impairment related is-
sues, like blindness, deafness, and men-
tal, physical, intellectual or developmen-
tal impairments. About 10% of Iceland's
population has physical disabilities, ac-
cording to the Association of Disabled
Icelanders.
“The thing that annoys me the most
is that at some places, it would be so easy
to fix the problem,” Andri says. “You
don't need to go to a metal factory and
get some schematics.”
Later, as he's wheeling his motor-
powered wheelchair up the hill where
Bankastræti turns into Laugavegur, he
concedes that not all of the businesses
are ignorant to the wheelchair-using
population. "Like this, this is so simple,”
he says, nodding at the small metal
ramp in front of Aurum, a jewellery and
design store. The ramp is at an angle for
wheelchairs easily to come in the front
door, protruding onto the sidewalk no
more than a metre.
For people with significant mobility
impairments in Iceland, many places
are difficult to access without assistance.
“That's the hardest part,” he says, “al-
ways relying on somebody else to get
me somewhere.” This, Andri says, leads
many wheelchair users simply to go to
one of the malls, Kringlan or Smáralind,
rather than spend money downtown.
Yes, The Wheelchair Is Fucking
Heavy
Andri works as a tech advisor for Þek-
kingarmiðstöð Sjálfsbjargar, which is
the information centre for Sjálfsbjörg
(“Self Help”), the National Association
for Disabled People in Iceland. The or-
ganisation has youth services and also
rents accessible apart-
Words by
Cory Weinberg and
Byron Wilkes
Photos by Alísa
Kalyanova
Feature | Accessibility
Continues over
You Can’t
Always Go
Downtown
An all-access pass to
life without access
“
I try to be optimistic. It’s
not fun not being able to
do stuff. „