Reykjavík Grapevine - 10.04.2015, Side 32

However, like all good things in life,
there is a small catch. If, like me, you
come from a British colony (Baby Prince
George I love you!) or some other con-
servative place, you will be very familiar
with the concept of body shame. Nudity
is reserved for lovers (lights off, please)
and medical searching of your body for
possible cancerous moles. High school
changing rooms became a lesson in the
art of completely changing your outfit
without exposing any part of your body.
No nude, no swim
So what does this Victorian-era throw-
back mentality have to do with swim-
ming in Iceland? Well, dear friends. If
you are not aware, ICELANDIC LAW
states you must shower/clean yourself
SANS bathing suit before and after en-
tering a public pool. Big deal, I hear you
say? Well, these showers just so hap-
pen to be communal. As in, you must
shower completely starkers in front of
a crowd of people. For people hailing
from prudish lands, this can be quite
confronting (disconcerting).
It took me a month of living in Reyk-
javík to build up the courage. I decided
my first time should be alone (get your
mind out of the gutter please), because
the idea of my new friends seeing me in
my full glory was too
much to handle. I also
decided my maiden
voyage would be in
Akureyri, mainly be-
cause I didn’t know
what else to do there.
The first thing
you’ll notice in Icelan-
dic change rooms is butts. Everywhere.
Locals will happily walk around the en-
tire area in the nude, even going so far
as to engage in conversation while their
bits are getting some air. The first time
I entered the changing rooms, I kept
my eyes firmly on the ground. After
schlumping to a locker, I failed to open
it three times. After firmly establishing
myself as a foreigner, the time had ar-
rived when I would have to be naked in
public.
The naked truth
Suddenly, I was flooded with feel-
ings of shame, inadequacy, and guilt.
I managed to force myself to undress,
but quickly wrapped myself in a towel.
I was paralysed, I couldn’t move. My
mind was saying: “There is no way you
are exposing your dirty, sub-par body
to these perfect specimens of human.
No.”
I seriously contemplated if it was
possible to just re-
dress and skulk out of
the change room, run
out of the complex
and never go to an
Icelandic pool again.
Luckily, my neuroses
towards quitting out-
weighed the ones to-
wards nudity. I just swallowed my pride
and marched (well, more like scurried)
into the showers. I refused to face any-
one but the showerhead, and I am pret-
ty sure my entire body was clenched
during the experience.
I’m really happy this quasi-panic at-
tack occurred. It uncovered deep-held
body shame vibes I didn’t even know I
still had. Since that fateful day in Akure-
ri, I try and visit the pools in Reykjavík
every day. Not only do I love the healing
and revitalising effect of the water, but
bearing my bod in a safe setting is do-
ing wonders for my self-esteem. I was
even comfortable enough to “do the
change rooms” with a friend this week,
flashing her one singular breast in a
little “up yours” salute to body shamers
the world over.
Next challenge: to follow the “body
love” attitude of a local DJ and let half
my genitals hang out of my swimsuit
while relaxing in the sauna. No shame,
baby.
DON’T ASK
NANNA:
About Icelandic Elves
Dear Nanna,
What should I call my new band?
The name has to be Iceland-relat-
ed because it’s a real inspiration to
my music.
Best,
You're-My-Muse
Dear Schmooze-You-Lose,
I have made you a list of possible
suggestions below. I hope I have
helped you push your music to the
next level.
1. The Norse Whisperers
2. Snobo (a.k.a The Snow Covered
Hobos)
3. The Sensual Eruptions
4. Smoked Meat
5. The Toxic Debts
Nanna
When will your country stop killing
arctic foxes? Everything you write
is pointless and stupid, meanwhile
you kill foxes which are endan-
gered species.
V
Dear V,
You are a god damn hero, V. You
know that? The voice of the voice-
less, the fox-activist to end all fox-
activists.
After all, what’s the point of righ-
teous indignation if you can’t wield
it in ignorance? Does it matter
that arctic foxes are endangered in
mainland Scandinavia, i.e, Sweden,
Norway, Finland, but not in Iceland?
No.
Does it matter that Iceland has so
many arctic foxes they are literally
being shipped away to boost de-
pleted Scandinavian fox stocks? No,
because what do facts even mean
when matters of the heart are at
stake?
Keep fighting the good fight,
Nanna

32 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 4 — 2015OPINION
Photo
Art Bicnick
Words
Melissa Coci
Party Every Night.
Cocktails!
Live Music Every Night!
50 different kinds of beer.
Live Sports Coverage
Kitchen open from 11.00.
Ribs - Burgers
Chicken Wings!
LIFE IS SHORT
– DRINK EARLY –
AUSTURSTRAETI 8 • REYKJAVIK
Swimming pools and Icelanders go hand-in-hand like
drunks on a Saturday night and Ali Baba kebabs. Even the
smallest towns in Iceland have a local swimming pool com-
plex, resplendent with at least one hot tub. There is nothing
quite like soaking in the soothing waters of Iceland, check-
ing out the locals in minimal covering and staring up at the
wide sky. It really is the true “Icelandic” experience, no hot
dog reflux required.
“Suddenly, I was
flooded with feelings
of shame, inadequacy,
and guilt. I managed
to force myself to
undress, but quickly
wrapped myself in a
towel. I was paralysed,
I couldn’t move.”
Read a fresh new DON'T ASK NANNA
on Grapevine.is every Friday!
Tales From
The Tub
Learning to let go of my worldly,
sophisticated body shame