Reykjavík Grapevine - 06.10.2017, Blaðsíða 20

ANIMAL OF THE ISSUE:
The Minke
Whale
After a trip around the Golden
Circle, you—our tourist reader—
might be wondering: “How the hell
does any animal survive on this
godforsaken mid-Atlantic rock?”
It’s a fair question. With a lack of
vegetation, a merciless climate, and
generally inhospitable conditions,
Iceland isn’t an easy place for any
living creature to survive.
That said, there are a number of
cool fauna in the country. So, let’s
meet the…
Minke Whale
The Minke Whale, or Balaenoptera
acutorostrata, is the smallest of
whales, measuring about 6 to 9 me-
tres long and weighing around five
tonnes. For reference, this is one
tenth of the space station's weight.
How skinny do you feel now?
Fittingly, they are also one of the
fastest whales, being able to groove
at speeds of up to 34 kilometres per
hour when threatened. A little math
calculates that that would require a
shit-ton of calories, but luckily, the
minke whale feeds on notoriously
calorically dense foods like krill,
herring, and sardines. That was
a joke—those fishes are the ones
you eat while dieting, so the Minke
Whale probably has a mean case of
Binge Eating Disorder.
Moving on, the Minke Whale is also
known as one of the most curious
marine creatures, widely known for
swimming towards fishing vessels
to say “Good Morning!” to the in-
trepid fishermen. They are also one
of the most feminist marine ani-
mals; there are numerous scientific
papers discussing the promiscuity
of the female Minke Whales. How’s
that for crushing the cetacea-ar-
chy?
Embarrassing immigration
While Icelanders are known to be
good at killing whales, this year the
country was actually forced to im-
port Minke Whale meat after too
few were hunted. With only a mea-
ger 17-carcass haul, 33 Norwegian
whales were flown into the country
earlier this summer purely so you
tourists could have your “OMG I AM
EATING A WHALE” Instagram mo-
ment. Well, we hope the likes were
worth it. HJC
20 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 18 — 2017
For three months Kjartan Theódórsson
has been living in a tent at a camp-
ground in Hafnarfjörður. A former
skipper at sea for 22 years, and having
spent the last three years working as
a foreman in a fishing factory, Kjar-
tan found himself in a dreadful situa-
tion shortly after having a heart attack
and losing his job. In May of this year,
when he had his first major heart at-
tack, Kjartan was in hospital for a week,
unable to go back to work. Since then
everything has snow-
balled, leading him to
this point of despair.
Before ending up
homeless, Kjartan and
his family were rent-
ing a house from his
employer. Now that he
can no longer work,
he was asked to find a
new place to live. After
endless searching, he
had no luck finding an
affordable home and
simultaneously he lost
his income as well. His
wife, working as a cash-
ier, cannot support the
entire family on just her
wage, according to Kjar-
tan.
This summer, the couple were forced
to leave their apartment. With nowhere
to go and with no help, Kjartan bought
a cheap tent from SportsDirect. Prices
for homes are so high, and with little
money, it was the only option. For a
temporary solution however, Kjartan
claims it wasn’t all that bad, as it was
summer and would be short-term until
they found a more stable home. “I’ve
been on the streets since July,” he ex-
plains. “It was very hard because it was
just a month after my heart attack and
since then I’ve had to recover in a tent.
The hardest part of it all was having to
send our daughter away.”
Raising awareness on
homelessness
After losing everything, Kjartan has
taken matters into his own hands by
fighting against the municipal govern-
ment. He argues, “They’re breaking my
rights because I’ve been paying taxes,
and they should help people who end up
on the street. We have a child—should
we just have to live in a tent and keep
quiet? I said no, I’m not going to do
that.”
Kjartan has made a clear vision for
himself: he is determined to help people
just like him. “Thinking of something
to do, I started using my Snapchat to
let people live with me, let them fol-
low me day to day,” Kjartan explains. “I
got to know others who are also on the
street, living in tents or old buses, try-
ing to survive. So I want to make people
open their eyes in Iceland, to show that
there are people like us who have to
live on the streets.” Kjartan says he is
no longer just thinking
about his housing is-
sue; it's so much more
than that. It’s about the
people who are unable
to work and have little
money to support them-
selves. He’s fighting for
the government to take a
stance on the issue. “No
government or institu-
tion is doing anything
for Icelandic people
who are actually on the
street. If I were the only
one, my wife and I, then
it would be okay, but I
know there are over 100
people who are in exactly
the same situation as we
are. People are just shy or afraid to talk
about it—they aren’t crazy, like me, to
open up this problem and let people
know that this is happening in Iceland.”
Having no luck in gaining govern-
ment assistance, Kjartan turned to the
Red Cross. It’s getting colder and winter
is approaching; he and his family just
can’t live in a tent. “When I went to Red
Cross, there were people who were just
arriving to the country and they were
filling out their applications. I over-
heard that these newcomers get a place
to stay so I thought maybe I can get a
room too. I was refused; they told me
no. I’m from Iceland, and these rooms
are for people who are coming into the
country [from elsewhere].” , Kjartan
sees this as a much bigger issue, and
feels that Red Cross should be assist-
ing anyone in need, not just foreign-
ers. “Red Cross should help Icelanders
too, the implication of not helping us
will cause prejudices. Icelandic people
may get angry about people who are
coming here, and it’s not their fault,”
he emphasises. Using his media plat-
forms, Kjartan tries to fight prejudice
as well. “On Snapchat I always stress
not to judge refugees, only the govern-
ment. It’s not the people's fault. I sup-
port helping refugees, or just anyone
who needs support.”
Finding a solution
Since he has had trouble obtaining gov-
ernment assistance, it's understandable
that Kjartan is furious with the cur-
rent social support offered in Iceland.
His goal is to create something revo-
lutionary for those in desperate need
and living on the streets. “I’ve been
in contact with Inskip Housing Asso-
ciation,” he says. “They have over 200
container housing units that are ready
to be plunked down for people to start
occupying. They have been asking the
government to buy it from them, and
find the space for it so people can live
affordably, but nothing has happened.
That’s the reason why I’m fighting for
this now.”
On the population scale, the number
of individuals living on the streets is
very low compared to the amount of
people in Iceland. Nevertheless, these
unfortunate circumstances do occur for
an array of reasons. Kjartan, and those
who support his efforts, agree that
when homelessness strikes in Iceland,
there needs to be a strong financial
support system from the government
to help people find a better situation.
Kjartan says he’s working everyday for
improved social services. “A lot of peo-
ple on Facebook and Snapchat are sup-
porting me. I’m not a shy man, I’m not
afraid to go to the government and get
help where we need it.”
“It was very hard
because it was
just a month
after my heart
attack and since
then I’ve had to
recover in a tent.
The hardest part
of it all was hav-
ing to send our
daughter away.”
The tent where Kjartan lived in shortly after his heart attack.
HUMANS
Words:
Jenna
Mohammed
Photo:
Art Bicnick
Fighting For A Better
Welfare State, In A Tent
After losing everything, Kjartan Theódórsson finds himself
against the Icelandic government.