Fréttablaðið - 05.11.2022, Side 79

Fréttablaðið - 05.11.2022, Side 79
Hello everyone! I think you are all home, safe and no doubt tethered, with pleasure, to our shared experience over the past few weeks. As I write this, tears appear, and I am glad. I love you all. In connection with the information, I just shared with you, I would like to tell you a very (not really) brief story. It is important. Tiphaine, Anais and I were in the hotel room that we shared for a few days in Reykjavik. Hotel Borg. Our tower windows looked down onto Austurvollur Square in front of our hotel and our view included the Parliament House of Iceland building which is also on the park. One morning, as we were getting ready to go downstairs for breakfast, we noticed a small group gathering in the center of the square, in the center, where two paths intersect from corner to corner and where a statue of Iceland’s leader of independence movement, Jon Sigurdsson stands. Well, we hurried down to the park, forgetting our coats, it was a cold and sunny morning. Arriving to find a group of Iranians in a small crescent, thirty women, men, babies, and a few children. Young and old and ALL standing with great humility, dignity, respect, a touch of fear, and I would add…sadness….and all gently vailed with determination despite their small numbers. The three of us took a few minutes to orient to what we were seeing and hearing, feeling too. In that time, the group began playing a song from their homeland on a very small and inadequate Bluetooth speaker. To me, it’s inadequacy gave it more strength and was aligned with the group that placed it out in front. After a few songs we were handed handwritten lines to a poem or a song, I do not remember which. I can tell you that the words left our lips together as we three joined the crescent. NO ONE! from the parliament building looked out a window or opened a door…. nothing. I am quite angry still. One cyclist road through the group, unyielding. The crescent gently opened and closed. Tiphaine and Anais sent me off to NYC this on that day with so many tears. On the plane I was sitting next to a woman, we will call her Ana Carolina from Brazil. As it happens, Ana Carolina is a human rights lawyer for an exceptionally large law firm that practices mostly human and environmental litigation. We never paused our conversation through the flight. Ana Carolina came from very humble beginnings and through grants and scholarships was able to experience a brilliant education which included years at The London School of Economics. When I “wove her the web” (as we sailors will do) of the seen in the square and the Iranians, I expressed that I was at a loss as to what I could do to help. Her reply was “you are helping at this moment.” And so now again here and please if you can…. spread this word. I am only just realizing that I have not mentioned the cause behind all of this. It is not necessary, is it? My love to you all, Robert. souverianwhale@gmail.com It has now been 50 days since her passing. This story was written to the 30 shipmates that I spent the previous few weeks sailing with. Here, “everyone” is really everyone. For Mahsa Amini and All Others Living Under Oppression
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