Whoopsie

I just realized my title has been misspelled for quite some time, but nonetheless it is appropriately changed!

I go swimming a lot here. Íþrottamiðstöðin Borgarnesi (Sport center place Borgarnes)

I'm having a wonderful time, although I now appreciate my alone time (recharge time?) much more than before. I also cannot stress the importance of vitamin D enough. I thought I was getting really homesick and introverted or whatever a few weeks back, and I forced myself to walk down to the drug store (the name of it is literally "drugs") and picked up a bottle of vitamin D tablets. After figuring out the appropriate dosage in units I understand, I took twice the recommended amount and felt exponentially better the next day. My mood improved over the next few days, and I returned, mostly, back to normal and sociable Aaron.

Incoming cowboy hat

Last night was the halloween ball with my school. I did not know I was going. I had an Icelandic class in a neighboring town (Akranes) and got back home at 10:10 PM to find a car of people dressed like zombies, butchers, and Paulie D (Jersey Shore) about to drag me to the ball. I ran inside, borrowed a pair of overalls, put on a plaid shirt, and went as an Icelandic hillbilly. I had a pretty good time there, the ball ending at 1 am (yes, on Thursday, and yes, I was incredibly tired the next morning).

I have no idea who the person is on the right or why she won something. Bárður, on the left, is dressed as Minecraft Steve. He won most original costume.

So, life in Iceland... huh. Well, first of all, life is life is life is life anywhere, to be completely honest. I still have trouble waking up in the morning (haven't been late to any classes!), I still go to bed too late, I still don't understand a thing in biology which can probably be attributed to my language improficiency – and speaking of language abilities, I'm understanding the majority of what is said (ideas, mind you, grammar escapes me). I pick up on all the words I know, and kind of guess what the rest means, which can lead to some pretty wacky sentences when I try and repeat them in English.

"... , að ég finn til í rassinum í dag."
Translate it yourself. This is my Icelandic class in Akranes.

I was sick from about Thursday until Wednesday, and this story happened while I was at the pinacle of throat pain:
Last weekend I learned how to use the bus in Reykjavík. The exchange students all went to Klifurhúsið (The climbing house, clibb-err-hoos-ihth) and I decided to go a day early and stay at my host-sister's house. Well, I missed the morning bus by about 2 minutes, so I had to stay in Borgarnes for about 4 or 5 more hours than I'd planned, and speaking of plans, I had to cancel all of mine. I finally got to Reykjavík and was dropped off at Kringlan, one of the biggest malls in Iceland (don't get any grand ideas, it's pretty small), and thought my first order of business should be to find my bus stop I would be taking at 5:30 PM. So I walked around Kringlan, studying my maps, wondering where this street I marked could be. After 30 minutes of walking around the mall, I couldn't find it, so I went and asked the mall information center where this bus stop is. The told me to go over the main road and then right and then left and down this road and then left and past the first bus stop then the second one and sfasdfasdf. So 20 minutes of walking from the mall I see a sign that says I'm in Miðbær (mi(h)th bye-r), a part of Reykjavík that is on a completely different postal code than where I wanted to be. I stopped at an ice cream shop and asked where I was, and where I was supposed to be. The man I asked's eyes got really big and said "You're really far away from there, they gave you really bad directions." He drew me a little map on a napkin of where I needed to go, and about 25 minutes of walking later my bus stop came into view.

Needless to say, I was cold, coughing, sick, and angry. I went back into Kringlan, bought an Icelandic-English and English-Icelandic dictionary and an Icelandic comic book, then sat in the book store reading "My first word" books. I got a few looks.

The rest of the journey was no problem getting to my host-sister's house that night, but my bus driver was pretty grumpy and I had no idea what to do, so he kept chastising me for trying to pay for the bus with a 500 bill.
The next day I went and toured CCP Headquarters (makers of EVE Online) where my host-sisters husband works :DDD
Sadly I didn't have my camera with me that weekend. Every desk had a Nerf gun on it, and they were really eager to show me their Nerf gun modifications. I met the CEO and he showed me his tiny little Nerf gun that fit in the palm of his hand ("I'm thinking about getting a bigger one, this one doesn't really do much for my self-esteem").
I boarded the bus not far from there, and everything was going fine until I got off at the wrong bus stop, had to walk about 1km back to the previous one, got drenched by a passing car, and spent about 20 minutes trying to find the entrance to Klifurhúsið.

Me, exhausted, after finally arriving at Klifurhúsið

Klifurhúsið! Nothing but exchange students in this picture

My parents drove into Reykjavík that night and picked me up, we went and had Subway, and went home. Then I spent the next 4 days in bed. Couuuggggghhhhh.


This page is now littered with various facebook pictures because I didn't take any myself.

This picture is now diamonds. Or on the school community facebook page

Sauðamessa

Sauðamessa (Soy-thah-mess-ah) (literally: Sheep mass) is a festival in my town that started about 7 or 8 years ago for no apparent reason. The most I could find out was that maybe it was to celebrate all of the sheep finally being into their respective farms from the réttir and léttir (sorting of sheep and gathering of sheep, respectively). Why is it in my town? Many years ago, Borgarnes used to be the slaughterhouse capital of the Borgarbyggð area, but now all the old slaughterhouses are being used as storage (although they look abandoned).

"Lokað Hjáleið - Closed Detour"

The festival starts off at 2 in the afternoon (if you notice the sky changing dramatically, it's because of the weather, not my camera exposure. It takes 4 minutes to walk to my house to the park, and in the time it started raining and hailing sufficiently enough to soak me and stop before I got there). Everyone gathers near the old folks home where sheep are penned in, then let loose to be chased down the street, hopefully staying on the street, and into the park, a 5 or 6 minute walk.

Everyone walks down the street after the sheep, then of course the sheep don't follow the road, so now everyone runs. It's quite hilarious, as you can see by this man's expression.

As you can see here (this is my host father, by the way) much waving of arms and shouting is involved in getting the sheep off of the hills and back onto the road – only to be chased back into the road because they just ran across it into someone else's yard.

The road pictured here is not even the right road they are supposed to be on.

Then there's a hill, and almost everyone sets at a dead sprint to keep the sheep from going anywhere else and into the pens at the bottom of the hill.

Finally.

Here I have a picture of lots of people. It's kind of ridiculous to see anywhere near this amount of people anywhere in Iceland at one time and place.

And here's me in my just-finished Icelandic wool sweater (lopapeysa). I swear I was much happier than my face shows (my butt was not, I just ripped a huge hole in my pants and the wall I'm sitting on was terribly wet).

Also, here are some socks in a tree. I don't know.

Sauðamessa is basically the best thing ever, because once the sheep are all in the pen, free kjötsúpa (kyuht- soup-ah, meat soup, very traditional) is served, and a sort of talent show starts in the park right on the other side of the wall I'm pictured sitting on. Traditional Icelandic wool products are sold like sweaters, gloves, and hats, all hand made. Then they sell waffles and homemade hot chocolate which are amazing, even if you do spill your hot chocolate ALL over the table. Somewhere, someone is getting that joke.
My school did a sort of fashion show where they put on accessories and walked around the stage. There was an eating contest (I heard my host father won 3 years in a row, but for some reason didn't enter this year), it rained some more, and there was some traditional Icelandic singing. After this there was some sort of event at the high school back down the road. I'm not really sure what was going on there, but I know there was a bucket of blood, tractors, forklifts, and more sheep.

Afterwards my parents had a gathering and there were way too many little screaming kids, and I met one of my host-cousins, Védís, who incidentally is the coolest nerd ever. She is fantastic, seriously, go look at her artwork here. We got along really well.

Thhheeeeeeennnn there's the Sauðamessaball. It starts about 10 PM, I got there at 11:30, and by then almost all of the 200+ people there were drunk beyond belief. It must have been a logistical nightmare, because the barn it was held in is about a 10 minutes drive from Borgarnes. There's lots of hugging, apparently I made an "Icelandic Oath" as soon as I got there, then I never saw the guy again. No more details, because if I say more it will make Icelanders look like gross drunks that like to party in barns and roll on the ground. Which is partly true, but shh, forget it, I didn't say anything.

The next day is spent sleeping and eating left over kjötsúpa.

Last week I went to Reykholt, the home of one of the famous saga men, Snorri. We spent most of the time just driving around. There isn't much of a story there, so I'll just put some pictures.

Of Monsters and Men

Remember that video I posted called Little Talks?
Yeah, well good.
Remember how I wasn't sure if Icelanders were into it yet, or something like that?
No? Well I'm sure now.

I went over to my AFS contact family's house and the mother was humming Little Talks. She was kind of surprised when I said "hey!" really loudly while she was humming.

Anyways, go check them out for real this time. They're starting to play all over the radio here, and bound to jump across a sea or two in the bear future.

Just sitting at school now, typing, browsing the internet. I am sorry to admit I am not going to continue with my dance class (shortening my schedule even more, lol). I don't need to take it, and, honestly, I'm a horrible dancer. It also didn't help that the teacher would walk to the other side of the room when I ask for help (and when she does she speaks Icelandic).

I would go to the grocery store (Netto) and get a little something to eat but the rain is a little too horizontal for my tastes. I think I would fly away. Maybe I should have packed those bricks in my backpack...

Iceland Culture Review #1

There's quite a lot to say here. Quite a lot. I'll say a lot here, then make another later with everything I forgot in a few weeks or when I learn more. Probably both.

Let's talk a little bit about the habits and behavior of Icelanders (stereotype time!)

Icelanders take off their shoes when they go almost everywhere. I know this is commonplace in many, many cultures, but I thought I'd mention it. you take off your shoes before you change to go into the pool, when you go into a house, and when you enter your school (if it's not too reasonably big, and elementary schools (grunnskólar) always take off shoes). This can lead to shoe-related complications if one does not have easily put-onable shoes.

Icelanders say "yeah" a lot, but right before there do it they inhale very loudly and try and say "yeah" as they inhale. I can't find a video, but if you want to look it up, go for it. Send me a video if you find it.

There is lots of nose and mouth tobacco. While this is considered "redneck" in some parts of the States, it is quite common here.

It is completely normal for a ~25 year old man to date a ~15 year old girl. This happens quite a lot, and puts my dating range down to the 10 year olds, sadly. No, I will NOT be dating any ten year olds. Ever.




Now, onto food.

Icelanders eat skyr a lot, which is a sort of jogurt, only thicker, usually mixed with sugar and fruit, as I've heard the original, plain, skyr is pretty bad, even for Icelandic tastebuds. I like this a lot.

Hot dogs. Oh my God. Hot dogs. They are everywhere, served at every gas station (bacon wrapped hot dogs as well), and almost everywhere else. Almost everyone eats them almost all the time. The preparation are as follows: battered and fried onions (think french friend onions, y'all) on the bottom of the bun, if ketchup and remolaði (remoulade) are to be added, these go on top of the onions. Then comes the actual hot dog, which is a lot like any other hot dog except it's not quite as disgusting when you think about it, and the skin is a little bit thicker, giving you a little "snap" feedback when you bite down. Mustard is then to be added, if desired, on top of the Íslensk pylsur. There are many different types of synnepsósa to be put on top of your hot dog, namely hot dog mustard (pylsur synnepsósa), a sort of brown thing. I don't like mustard in any circumstance, so I can't give you any insight.

Speaking of sauces, there are rediculous amounts of sauces for everything, and many are not to be used on certain objects. People look at you funny if you put vegetable sauce on a hot dog or hot dog remolaði on a hamburger. Usually one would put kokteilsósa on a hamburger, possibly with hamborgarasósa. Garlic sauce (which is pretty much mayonaise, a little mustard, and garlic) is a usual combination with hot and cold sandwiches - it is one of my favorite sauces so far.

On to candy. This is something that fascinates, as well as excites me. The Icelandic culture is obsessed with candy and icecream, MUCH moreso than in the States. It is completely normal to see 40+ year old men sitting around a sjoppa (hot dogs, candy, food, sometimes movies) eating hot dogs, licking ice cream cones, possibly eating bragðarefur (icecream and various candies mixed in, literally means tasty fox. wat), and buying mixed bag candy. It is completely normal to see 40+ women walking their dogs at night eating icecream. On Saturday at almost EVERY store that sells mixed bag candy, the candy is half price off. So that means you can stuff a pillow sized sack full of gummy worms, licorice, and chocolate for about the price of a nice coffee. This candy fetish the Icelanders have has not been doing wonders for my skin, but it's oh so good.

Also on candy, there's licorice in everything, and it annoys me. A typical candy tasting experience goes along the lines of:
"What's this?"
*takes a bite*
..
*is licorice*
I bought a huge bag of candy last Saturday, getting about 3 of everything Hyrnan (a gas station/food store thing) had, and, I kid you not, at least 80% of the bad must have been licorice. And the remainder was chocolate that had licorice inside of it, cleverly hidden.

Then there's this stuff.

Svið

Hákarl

Skata

No really, the food is really good, just not that stuff.



GROUND BREAKING NEWS
Most Icelanders don't like Sigur Rós (or say they're "okay"), and even less Icelanders like Björk. They think she's crazy.

And on the topic of music, go watch this video:
It's kind of like the Icelandic Lonely Island, except more crass, often singing about transvestites and priests that do cocaine.

Yes, there are swear words in there. No, I don't know what they are. If you get bored after 2 minutes feel free to stop it (if you don't want to see the singer get his arm chopped off, that is).

Also, there is this new Icelandic band popping up on the global music radar that I find is too good to share. It's very upbeat, catchy, and in English.

All the exchange students are pretty fond of it (I think), but I really don't know about the natives. It's bound that I'll hear it in the next few weeks somewhere around my school at least once.




And of course: Icelanders love to drink. There is no "it's 5 o'clock somewhere" funny business here, it's "go hard or leave our country." Totally normal for people to be wobbly at 11 am, drinking from little aluminum flasks most likely filled with the famous Icelandic brennevín, commonly known as black death, but literally translates to something like burning (or furnace) wine. I don't know why it's called black death, but I am curious. For more information, see the wiki.

Bless bless, takk fyrir að lesa!

About School

Well, I know I haven't posted much about school, because honestly it's not a big part of my life here. Yes, I go almost every day of the week, yes I meet people through there, but it doesn't feel like a big part of my life like it did in the states.

I don't have much homework, which will probably change. Maybe. I'm only taking 7 classes, two of which are Dance and Gym, only once a week and only 40 minutes long. That makes about 5 real classes.

Oh whatever, I guess I'll give you a picture of my schedule. When there are two classes at the same time, that means I can go to one or the other, or half and half.
Needless to say, I hate Wednesdays and love Fridays.

Most of my time is not spent even thinking about school. I keep forgetting I need to write a paper on the settlement of Iceland. 2 weeks ago. 

But about school: there are 7 classrooms, one auditorium, a dance hall, cafeteria, and a huge lounge for students (which I think is open on weekends? Never really wanted to go on weekends, to be honest). The entire school is covered in copper, so in about 2 years it'll be green.
If you're feeling daring you can go to the website http://menntaborg.is/

yawp.

Observations

So I've been here one day past a month, and I must say, I'm having an excellent time. Of course I have my downs, but I've had significantly less downs than when I was in Texas, to say the least. The scenery is beautiful, I go out on the rocks almost every day and go watch the sea as the sun is setting or in the middle of the day.

I've met some really cool people, people who like actually like me. I have a place to hang out when I just want to hangout somewhere that isn't home, and of course I can just walk home afterwards at 2 in the morning or at 5 in the afternoon if I feel like. I'm given so much freedom, and I'm using it to enjoy Iceland to the fullest. I find myself going out in the cold and the rain and taking the longer routes because I'll never be in Iceland like this again. I'll always have more time to sit inside, get on the computer, check facebook, play a game, read a book, but I won't ever have the same opportunity to stare out at the tide coming in, to talk to the girl sitting next to you, or walk on the black sand. Every opportunity is made up of fleeting moments brought mysteriously together to create something truly magnificent that can never be gained back again. Take advantage of the conglomeration and coming together of the universe that gathered to create wherever and whatever you are right now.

Enough of that. It's time for pictures.

Today I went to a rétt, which is a coming together of sheep and people. It usually ends in singing and teetering, but we didn't stay that long. I only heard a few people singing when we left. Anyways, Réttir is when a bunch of people go into the mountains, gather the sheep that have wandered the mountains all Summer (which I learned is Icelandic law -- it is required to let your sheep wander during the Summer), and bring them back to be sorted into their individual farms.
Essentially, hundreds of sheep are herded into a single pen with however many people who grab them by the horns and throw them into pens to be taken away to their farms. This isn't an arbitrary "throw 12 sheep in a pen and take them away" thing, every single sheep is tagged.

These réttir take place all around the country, usually for 4 or 5 days. Beep boop.

Intereting fact: the Icelandic sheep gene pool has been undisturbed for over 1000 years, so weird anomalies show up and you get mutant sheep every once in a while with 2 heads or 4 horns, sometimes both. I saw two sheep with 4 horns.

Icelandic sheep like to jump. I don't know.

Lots of sheep.

My host sister, Eyrún! And on the left, slightly visisble, my host newphew Baldur.

And of course, more pictures are available on my Flickr!

More observations! 

Me and a few other exchange students have noticed a very peculiar thing about Icelandic buildings: they're largely very modern and have the latest X and Y, but only half of it is finished. Most, and I mean almost all, houses are in some kind of renovation that doesn't seem to be progressing in any direction at all. Take our house for instance, our bathroom is being redone, meaning the concrete floor was ripped up, new piping and everything, and thus we do not have a shower/bath in my house. In downtown Borgarnes there are a bunch of modern apartments that still have the window tags on them, uninhabited for, most likely, years. How long? Probably since 2007, the economic crash.

When the economic crash happened, Icelanders as a whole were undertaking huge building projects -- people were building museums, houses, and moving out of apartments. Then the crash. Most houses remained unfinished or finished without anyone to move into them because suddenly their dollar went from 66 kr to 1 USD to cerca 300 kr to 1 USD. Therefore, half finished houses, expensive walls juxtaposed against cheap counters. Tile floors and leather couches with stairs made out of 2x4s to the second story. It's a little strange to say the least, but albeit with a reasonable and understandable explanation.

No, I have not had hákarl (rotting shark), skata (rotting skate), or svið (also known as Satan's face on a plate). I have had the dried fish. I was not too fond of it. It was more smell than substance.

I could keep writing forever, but no one would read it ;D

If you have any questions leave a comment or email me! AaronDOTwillisDOTtalleyATgmailDOTcom

That's all for now!

Pictures

Because I don't know what's going on here and I can't think of anything to write.

My Flickr (Photos)

Select photos (larger versions are on the flickr page):

Hope you enjoyed them! More are to come, for sure!

Bless bless.