Reykjavík Grapevine - 15.08.2014, Qupperneq 39

Reykjavík Grapevine - 15.08.2014, Qupperneq 39
FESTIVAL OF HYMNS ON CULTURAL NIGHT Saturday August 23 Hallgrimskirkja's Friends of the Arts Society 32nd season :JOVSHJHU[VY\T (JVU[PU\V\ZWYVNYHTMYVT  WT WLYMVYTHUJLZ I`JOVPYZ HZVWYHUVHUKHUVYNHUPZ[ WSH`PUN[OL 2SHPZVYNHU5L^KPTLUZPVUZVM[OLVYNHU^PSSHSZV ILL_WSVYLKI`HULSLJ[YVUPJHY[PZ[,]LY`OV\Y[OLYL ^PSSILHZPUNHSVUN UL^O`TUZ^PSSIL[H\NO[HUK [OLH\KPLUJL^PSSZPUN^P[O[OLJOVPYZ^P[OVYNHU HJJVTWHUPTLU[ The Antique coffee house, Café Guðríður, will serve coffee and delicious hot waffles in the south wing of the church all day long to support the Friends of the Arts Society of Hallgrimskirkja. 7LYMVYTLYZ: ;OL/HSSNYPTZRPYRQH»Z4V[L[*OVPY and :JOVSHJHU[VY\T, conductor /€Yó\YÍZRLSZZVU ;OL*OVPYVM5LZRPYRQH Reykjavik, conductor and organist :[LPUNYxT\Yî}YOHSSZZVU -xSOHYTVUxHJOVPY, conductor 4HNU‚Z9HNUHYZZVU )Q€YU:[LPUHY:}SILYNZZVU organist of Hallgrimskirkja .\óT\UK\Y:PN\YóZZVU organ and î}YH)Q€YUZK}[ [PY soprano .\óT\UK\Y=PNUPY2HYSZZVU electronic artist. -9,,,5;9(5*, Hallgrímskirkja, Skólavörðuholti, 101 Reykjavík Sími / tel.: +354 510 1000, fax: +354 510 1010 list@hallgrimskirkja.is - www.hallgrimskirkja.is :H[\YKH`(\N\Z[UVVU :\UKH`(\N\Z[WT AXEL FLIERL organist Dillingen, Bayern- Germany plays works by Bach, Wagner, Cochereau and Duruflé ;OL0U[LYUH[PVUHS6YNHU:\TTLY PU/HSSNYxTZRPYRQH ;OL/HSSNYPTZRPYRQH»Z4V[L[*OVPY Ticket sale at the entrance The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 12 — 2014 HUMANS39 school in Iceland.” The fact that the younger genera- tions are choosing to move to bigger cit- ies, even outside of the country, must be a national cause for concern. What the future holds for those farming and fish- ing practices that have been passed from generation to generation, sustaining the country’s economy, remains to be seen. That’s entertainment! “Mexicans are all about being with other people,” Arlette says. “Iceland is a very beautiful country, but if you’re used to partying, having a lot of friends or living a fast-paced life, this place might not be for you.” For Arlette, who is familiar with the luxuries that come with living in big cities in the US and Mexico, having the nearest entertainment spots—restaurants, movie theatres, and shopping centres—a stag- gering three hours away was quite the novelty. “If we want to enjoy a nice outing or do something different, we go to the gas station. It’s the only place that’s open on Saturdays. You can get a burger or ice cream,” Arlette says, matter-of-factly. As far as entertainment options go, Arlette had to say goodbye to catching the lat- est movies at the cinema and access to hundreds of international channels. “We don’t have Netflix. Our options are limited to the six channels we get on the TV—and we only have so many because we have cable!” People are strange By U.S. standards, Arlette is quite nonde- script, likely to get lost in a crowd. How- ever, when transported to a remote island, surrounded by people of an entirely dif- ferent genetic makeup, she admittedly stands out. One can’t help but wonder what it feels like to be so phenotypically different from the rest of the population. “People sometimes stare at you,” she says, when the subject of her skin colour comes up. “My daughter and I are consid- ered peculiar here.” While her neighbours have grown used to her presence, and that of her daughter, occupying the role of obvious outsider obviously wasn’t an easy task for Arlette in the beginning. The land of no tacos Food is a favourite subject for most Mexi- cans. They are proud of the marriage of indigenous and Spanish flavours that have converged to create one of the most iconic cuisines of today. In Iceland, miles away from her favourite dishes, Arlette has mostly adjusted to local fare. “Food here is really different. We eat a lot of lamb and salmon.” Indeed, enjoy- ing a plate of tacos seems almost impos- sible given the location. “You can’t really find any stores that sell Mexican staples around here. I remember going to a Mexi- can restaurant in Reykjavík years ago and the chef was Chinese! Can you imagine that?” “Helvítis, I don’t speak Icelandic!” Another big pill to swallow was the Icelan- dic language, and the barrier it presented. “In the beginning everyone speaks to you in English when they sense you’re an outsider. But as soon as they see you’re staying for good, they switch to Icelandic.” Living in a remote town like Vopnafjörður made the necessity of learning the lan- guage even more pressing. “Everything here is in Icelandic. Fortunately, I can still speak Spanish with my older daughter,” she continues. At home, however, their language dy- namic is a bit more complex than that and is the haven for a communication style that would make a linguistic anthropolo- gist blush. “While my husband speaks to me in English, he speaks to the children in Icelandic. With my children, I speak in Spanish, English and a bit of Icelandic.” Convinced that she needs to learn the language spoken by her husband and children, Arlette strives to become fluent in Icelandic. “It’s hard, but I’m trying. I can take online classes, but they are ultimately very limited.” “Oh the weather outside is frightful!” Five winters in Iceland have hardened Ar- lette to the often-harsh climate. “It’s not easy. If you’re not used to it, you can’t just take the car and drive off in the middle of a snowstorm,” she confides. “But it gets better over time.” The weather also affects the way they handle their sheep. Everything has to be planned to perfection in order to sustain the family business. “Since it’s so cold where we live, we have to shear half of the sheep’s wool at the beginning of the year, and the other half later in the year, when it’s warmer.” During the summer months, Arlette and her husband let the sheep roam free, as is customary with Icelandic sheep farmers. And, also in line with tradi- tion, they fetch them from the wild just be- fore the temperatures begin to drop anew. It’s 11:00pm. The day was long. Arlette took the kids to school, she browsed the internet for news from home, did some volunteer work, attended Icelandic lessons, got gro- ceries from the local shop, prepared din- ner for the family and, finally, put the little one to sleep. It’s time to call it a day. Arlette looks out the window once more and sees the Northern Lights glow- ing above. She takes joy in the blues and the greens flickering in the night sky, as if dancing to the beat of a song. Finally, Arlette closes her eyes, thank- ing God for one more day in this country. No Mexicans were harmed in the writing of this article. Thank you, Montserrat Arlette Moreno for your valuable time. ¡Muchas gracias! And special thanks to the Mexican Embassy in Denmark for helping me spread the word and begin my research.
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