The Second

Easter Sunday has come and gone. Everyone's junked out on chocolate and full of leg o' lamb, taking today to recover and get ready for the start of the work/school week tomorrow. Today is actually called the Second of Easter, and aside from the fact that it's an extra day's holiday, I'm not sure why we celebrate it here in Iceland. The Hallgrímskirkju church bells were ringing like crazy this morning, summoning to mass, so there must be a religious connection, but I seem to have forgotten my Confirmation class training and can't remember what happened the day after Jesus rose to be seated at the right hand of the Father. (If we were talking about late Bronze age religion, I'd tell you that the day after the sacrifice of the reigning king, a new one was installed, to be sacrificed in turn at a later date, but we're not...)

We also have the Second of Christmas (Dec. 26th) and the Second of the New Year (Jan 2nd), so maybe these extra days are just a good excuse to extend the holidays a bit. I'm not, of course, complaining.

Valentína and I are off to a Confirmation shindig...a huge deal here on the lava rock. Fourteen year old kids get thousands of dollars worth of gifts and cash for coming of age and announcing their intent to take an active part in their society. I write "society" and not "religion" because more and more kids are taking part in civil and not Lutheran confirmation ceremonies. They are confirming that they are willing to enter adulthood and take responsibility as an Icelander, and not just specifically as a Christian. And of course they still get presents and the big party...

Roff

My father called yesterday to let me know that an old Navy buddy of his had recently gotten in contact with him. This man (forgive, I've forgetten what Dad said his name was) was able to find him after over forty years by Googling his name. By entering 'Thor Roff' he found a link to Iceland Eyes that gave him the information he needed to find Daddy-O. That's nice!

Also, yesterday, I received an e-mail from a journalist for a British finance publication who found a link to this site while researching Björgólfur Thor Björgólfsson, an Icelandic multi-millionaire mentioned in one of my posts. He asked for an unofficial confirmation of some info he'd found, which I was able to loosely supply.

So this blog isn't just a leisurely hobby anymore, but has become the reference tool, fountain of worthwhile knowledge, grail of intellect and source of immense apprehension* I always intended it to be. And next, World Domination! hahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha... hehehehehe... hehehe... he. Ahem.

By the way, on the subject of Google, I want to acknowledge Guðrún Finnsdóttir, Google employee extraordinaire, web master for The Icelandic Association of Northern California and Icelander to boot, for her help in getting those crazy search spiders to find Iceland Eyes. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

And on a fun note, I entered 'Roff' in Google and discovered to my surprise, that Roff has a Wikipedia entry, holding the distinction as it does of being the name of the first UNIX text formatting program. Who'd have known? Google, that's who...

*(in this context apprehension means: "The ability to apprehend or understand; understanding" - American Heritage Dictionary)

The Ruins

These walls, steps, and blasted-rock depressions (with downtown Reykjavík in the backround) are the only remnants at Öskjuhlið of the WWII British fortification that once protected Iceland from hostile takeover by the dreaded Nazis. I'm told cannons once lined the upper edges of these now roofless bunkers, aimed at the seaway leading to Reykjavík harbor. I don't know enough about the history of this spot, unfortunately...all I know is that it's great fun clambering among the ruins, especially with three spunky girls in tow. 

Greetings cont.

So longish story short we traveled back to the old country as often as my parents could afford to, and I grew a strong attachment to the place. I wasn't actually fluent in Icelandic until about eight years ago (I had a dread of saying the wrong things when I was a kid and so avoided speaking the language) but its been sort of stored up in my head for all of my life, waiting to be released. I got my Masters in Comparative Literature from the University of Iceland last spring, and though I was able to turn in my work in English, I was proud of myself for having kept up with both my readings and class discussions in my "native tongue." Wrote my thesis on The White Goddess by Robert Graves, though that's a whole 'nother ball of wax...!)

I am then a thirty-something re-patriot to the Old Country with a six year-old daughter and no more on the way just now, thank you. I'm just about as California as you can get when I'm out there, with sun-blonded hair and blue eyes, cheerleader, surf-baby, tan, a little new age (University of California, Santa Cruz, thank you) and a ton of smiles and charm. People here get a kick out of how stereotypically Hollywood-movie my life was out west (Did you date the football star? they always ask. Answer's no...the soccer star! ha ha). The irony is that I fit in very well here, too. Only my accent gives me away, but on good days even that I can pass off as Faeroe Islands-ish. Makes sense. I'm both nations and always will be. I have dual citizenship, I dream in both languages and I could never deny the one country fully for the other. This site is about that duality; it's my insider/outsider perspective of life on this island I now call home.

Now that the introduction's done, I'll be writing each day about what's going on here: top news, local gossip, etc. I live in the heart of the city (101 Reykjavik) so I have a very central vantage point; the city kind of pulses from this core and we'd like to assume that the rest of the country follows the beat (though that might be a little egotistical!) I'll mention good restaurants and hotels, insider tips for visitors and the best "touristy" things to buy and do while here. Mostly though, this will be a Day in the Life kind of spot that I hope you will enjoy!

 

Wood Kiddies

Valentína, Edda and Aldís skipping through the Öskjuhlið forest (just below the 42 on the linked map)...happy moments in Reykjavík!

Chinatown

Real, old country Chinese food is not so hard to find here in Reykjavík. Sjanghæ is just one of a number of Asian food restaurants in downtown, most located within a few hundred yards of each other on Laugavegur, an area I've dubbed Chinatown.

Red Lights

This is it: Reykjavik's Red Light District, on the corner of Laugavegur and Frakkastigur. Vegas is an Exotic Dance venue, and the sidewalk ad below that neon sign is for Maxim's down the street, which offers peep shows and an erotic shop.

Of course there are other shops and clubs catering to the discerning gentleman scattered throughout the downtown area, but Vegas has some serious lasting power, surviving the massive backlash against this kind of entertainment that whipped through Reykjavik about three years ago.

In the years leading up to the Millenium, exotic nightclubs seemed to pop up on every street corner, and dancers from eastern Europe flocked to this newly ripe and infamously party-friendly town. "Exotic" weekend tours to Reykjavik were advertised in Europe and the U.S., and every Friday the streets would fill with packs of randy bachelors and out-of-control stag parties.

At first we didn't mind. They were, after all, spending a ton of money here. But when it became obvious that this "Erotic Reykjavik" marketing concept was having a negative effect on the reputations of Icelandic Women (which was ironic since the great majority of the dancers were foreigners,) not to mention encouraging the exploitative nature of the exotic business in general, the government cracked down hard.

The few clubs that survived are supposed to be highly regulated, and dancers' work permits doled out sparingly; it used to be a common occurance to see tall, lithe, strong and sexy women with long, weaved and braided hair and gaudy decorated nails walking down the streets on the way to the gym, speaking Baltic languages amongst themselves. Even in the daylight they were exotic, and one only imagined the bizzare lives they led. They've mostly gone home now, or gone on to other countries where they can practice their specific form of art a little more freely, and maybe see a little more sun.

The party hasn't really stopped here, but it may just be a tad bit harder to find...