Reykjavík Grapevine - 04.05.2007, Side 5

REYKJAVÍK_GRAPEVINE_ISSUE 05_007_OPINION_05
Cappuccino + bagle + yoghurt = 650 kr.
It’s a popular cus-
tom as well as a
national joke to ask
someone, “How do
they like Iceland?”
within the first five
minutes of their ar-
rival in the coun-
try. Upon my first,
second, third and
fourth trip I too
was asked this infamous question. After liv-
ing here for almost a year, I no longer see
the country as a place I am simply passing
through; but a home where I’ll be raising
my daughter, involving myself in the Chris-
tian community and developing knowledge
of my family’s culture. Iceland for the time
being is an investment in the next chapter
in my life. So, the answer to your question
– I’ll borrow a line from William Shakespeare
and quote, “it is neither good nor bad. But
thinking makes it so.´´
Now as many might contest, a Califor-
nia girl can get used to the winter darkness,
constant rain and undesirable wind chill fac-
tor. However, when it comes to bad man-
ners, it’s a whole different ball game. At this
point I can write a book on the lack of uni-
versal manners that exist in the Icelandic so-
ciety. For example, there are countless times
when I have literally been pushed aside for
someone to get past me. It has happened so
often that I didn’t think the words, “excuse
me” existed in the Icelandic vocabulary.
And although it bothers me when people
don’t say “God bless you,” when a sneeze
is heard, it does not quite compare at all to
the issue of being stared at. Just in case it
has never been taught in school, staring is
universally just plain uncouth.
Back in February I had two dear friends
come to visit from New York and as we were
sitting in a café one afternoon, I noticed an
Icelandic couple staring at us as we ordered
from the cashier. As we proceeded to sit
down and chat they continued to stare for
literally an entire hour. It was as if the two
had either nothing to talk about or had an
incredulous fascination with black people.
As expected, my friends were completely
vexed and I was quite embarrassed for the
behaviour of these people. If this incident
were isolated it wouldn’t be so irritating,
however, it happens quite often. Maybe Ice-
landic people are so used to seeing people
that look like them that when something
new comes along one has to experience the
forbidden fruit by way of gawking. If so, let
it be known that some bad habits seriously
need to be broken.
Of course there are obvious elements
to love about Iceland such as the nature,
social welfare and non-existent insect prob-
lem. When shifting gears from New York to
Iceland I knew there would be things that
would be difficult to live without. However,
as much as I love New York and all it has to
offer, I do not miss the congested streets,
serious pollution problems or heavy traffic.
Last month I was in New York and had to
rent a car to drive to the most forgotten
borough of the five, Staten Island, to get
our taxes done. I have to admit, the drive
there was pleasant. It was before rush hour
and I made it easily in 24 minutes. However,
on the way back, which was around 11:30
am, my trip was quite different. Not only did
it take more than two hours to get home,
but the traffic was so horrific it changed
the appearance of the highway completely.
Everything looked so jammed and cluttered
with construction that I ended up getting
off at the wrong exit and circling around the
same industrial looking shady neighborhood
for about an hour. The point is, I love how
driving around the bare streets of Reykjavik
and finding your way home never involves a
stress pill and an empty gas tank.
My bittersweet relationship with Iceland
has settled me into the position of a critical
participant as opposed to the curious on-
looker that defined me before. As much as I
love the nature and absence of congestion,
there are many more things that I want to
grow into loving. I feel as if I have a purpose
in strengthening my new home and build-
ing it to be the best it can be. I want my
daughter to have blessed memories of her
early years in her birth country and to feel
as though it gave her roots of which she can
be proud.
So, How Do I Like Iceland?
Text by Gabriele R. Guðbjartsson
Now, I am not a
proponent of many
things, except
maybe some ob-
scure bands that I
assume people will
think I’m cool for
liking. Don’t get me
wrong, I like plenty
of things, and of
course I’d like oth-
ers to get to know them too. I am not keen
on keeping things for myself either. In fact, I
almost never shut up. It just so happens that
I am not one of those people that go around
shouting praise for every single thing that
takes my fancy or that I favour.
But there is one phenomenon of which
I am an avid supporter, and which I would
like others to get to know and experience.
Actually, it’s one of the few experiences that
I think could be universally appreciated and
endorsed, immune to any religious, financial
and moral qualms. And that, dear reader,
is taking a long, drawn-out, scalding hot
bath.
A too-hot bath is a beautiful thing. The
kind that you really have to edge yourself
into with the utmost care, so as not to get
burned by the hot water. The right tempera-
ture should be determined by slowly inch-
ing your foot into it (take care now). If it
gets too uncomfortable to keep your toes in
there for more than five seconds, you prob-
ably should add an inch of cold water to the
mix – no more – and stir heartily. Then you
should try again. Repeat as required.
I think the perfect temperature is one
that is slightly uncomfortable, but not ex-
actly painful. One where you, as I said, edge
yourself into the tub, sliding your ass along
its edges until you reach the bottom, where
it’s so hot that you prefer not to move so as
not to upset the water and maybe get a hot
pocket burning your thighs (or other body
parts).
You definitely have to bring a book with
you, as laying in the tub is a long process
best enjoyed slowly. You lie there, complete-
ly still until you can take no more, and then
you raise your feet above the water. That
ought to cool you down sufficiently to be
able to stay there a while longer. If it doesn’t
work, changing your position so that your
back is lying against one side of the tub and
your feet are dangling off the other one
– i.e. manoeuvring into a sideways position
– should suffice. You cool down that way
for a short while, until you sense it’s time to
plunge your entirety back into the scalding
heat once more.
The bath will, of course, cool down even-
tually. And then it’s not much of a thrill any-
more. What’s important to remember when
that happens is: never give up. So, you let a
little more hot water into the mix, preferably
using your feet to handle the tap. When you
feel your retreat to the tub is drawing to a
close, it isn’t. You should rather put away
your book, look around, close your eyes and
slowly edge your head into the scalding wa-
ter. Pretend you are dead for a while. Try to
float. Roll on your stomach. This should give
another fifteen minutes of amusement, at
the very least.
Exiting such a sweet endeavour will be
less than easy. When you finally manage to
stand up, you will feel drowsy and you will
even lose your sense of balance. It’s impor-
tant to keep on one’s feet when this hap-
pens, dry yourself off a little (not too much!)
and slowly edge your way into the next
available room. Lie on top of your sheets.
Let the hot water evaporate off you, much
the same way it evaporates off plates in an
open dishwasher.
Of course, any manner of things can be
used to improve your time with the scalding
hot tub of water. Foam can be nice. Some
music is essential, if you can procure it, but
silence can actually be refreshing too. It is a
matter of circumstance. I would recommend
a beer, god knows it’s nice under these cir-
cumstances, but I don’t actually feel you
should need it. The bath in and of itself is
intoxicating enough.
All of the preceding could of course
be taken as a metaphor for any manner of
things. Life, mainly, but also politics, and
science, and art and sex and death and re-
lationships. But that would be missing the
point.
The Virtues of a Hot Bath
Text by Haukur Magnússon
Of course there are obvious elements to love about
Iceland such as the nature, social welfare and
non-existent insect problem.
The bath will, of course, cool down eventually.
And then it’s not much of a thrill anymore. What’s
important to remember when that happens is:
never give up.