Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.09.2015, Blaðsíða 16

16 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 14 — 2015
Bryndís Björgvinsdóttir is clearly ex-
hausted.
Bryndís Björgvinsdóttir does not
want to be on our cover, but she also
does not want to say no to our offer of
featuring her on our cover. Bryndís
Björgvinsdóttir feels an obligation to
be on our cover, because her appear-
ing on our cover might help further the
cause she is currently fighting for, that
she currently dedicates every ounce of
her considerable energy to, the cause
she cares about so much that she has
foregone eating and sleeping and any
semblance of a normal life or regular
schedule for the however many days it’s
been since it all started (we try to figure
it out and we can’t, because they have
become a faded blur).
We try to count, though: A month
ago, three weeks ago, a couple of weeks
ago, ten days ago—at least ten days
ago—she was not exhausted. She ran
no risk of being unjustly propped up
as a refugee queen or saviour figure on
any magazine cover. Her waking hours
were not spent juggling representatives
from every major media outlet in the
known universe, and many minor me-
dia outlets.
It was an OK time. Dead bodies
calmly drifted through the Mediter-
ranean. Autumn was coming. She was
gearing up for the coming semester at
the Iceland Academy of the Arts, where
she is an adjunct. Entire families were
regularly decimated, braving an im-
possible situation in order to escape an
even worse one, and failing, as one does.
She wondered whether she should take
in a movie. A young girl was never seen
again. Sunday came around, as it does.
News happen, and they are report-
ed. Iceland’s Minister of Welfare, a
pleasant woman in her mid-forties (her
name is Eygló Harðardóttir), attempts
to respond to criticism her government
has received, since Icelanders learned
that their nation’s intended contribu-
tion to alleviating the ongoing Syrian
refugee crisis was to entail this: grant-
ing shelter to a mere fifty refugees, over
the course of two long years. A drop
in an ocean that’s already difficult to
navigate because of all the dead bodies
floating around in there. Many Iceland-
ers, still shaken by the disturbing visu-
als the crisis has wrought, have tried
to make it known that such meagre
tokenism is beneath even them, who
have historically been hesitant to ac-
cept outsiders to their ranks, not the
least refugees. We are well aware that
we have long lagged far behind every
neighbouring country of ours in fulfill-
ing our moral and stated obligation to
that specific kind of crisis relief that
would maybe bring strangers into our
front yard. We ought to be used to it by
now, but we are still ashamed and em-
barrassed to learn of this plan.
Eygló takes the stage and says some-
thing like (this is the gist): “I urge Ice-
landers to speak up if they are unhappy
with this plan, and inform us of what
they would rather see happen.”
Bryndís, not exhausted, not on any
magazine cover, is interested in the af-
fairs of refugees. She has been known
to make an effort to make a difference.
She has tried to aid refugees in need,
volunteering with organizations, mak-
ing donations and using her free time
to visit and converse with refugees-
in-limbo who have maybe been placed
on suicide-watch, because of frustra-
tion from the exordinant waiting pe-
riods that forever remain a feature of
Iceland’s maybe intentionally hobbled
system for dealing with asylum appli-
cations.
She is interested, and she is a little
frustrated, because: doesn’t it seems
like a human’s obligation to act or react
Fucking Around Can Make A Lot Of
Difference, And It’s Important To Always
Keep Trying And Not Give Up And Avoid
Getting Cynical Or Losing Hope, Because
Eventually An Unexpected Crack Might
Open Up And You Might Then Slip Through
That Crack And Maybe You Can Grab The
Opportunity And Create Room For Change
And Bring About An Improvement And
Shape The World For The Better:
A preview, an introduction
A girl started a fire.
It was an accident.
Words by Haukur S. Magnússon
Photos by Axel Sigurðarson
Bryndís Björgvinsdóttir is very concerned that we don't
position her on our cover as some sort refugee queen or
saviour figure. She doesn’t actually want to be on our cov-
er, or any magazine cover for that matter. This much is
clear. Unless, maybe, if she were promoting a novel. But
she’s not, not at the moment (she will be, later: Bryndís
Björgvinsdóttir is an acclaimed author, her third novel
will be released this November).