Yesterday, I went with my boss and another worker to a plot of land at the base of Eyjafjalljökull near Hlíðarendi, the historic home of the hero Gunnar from Njáls saga. New snows on the glacier and mountaintop stood out against the dark volcanic rock below and blended with the thick clouds above. Only recently, the mountaintop was still gray and black with ash.
Though the lowlands by the sea are now verdant once again—many places benefiting from the natural fertilizer of ash—a thick layer of ash still covers the ground beneath the green grass. There was a barn on the property we were working on and inside the barn was a large truck, still completely covered with a thick and impenetrable layer of gray ash.
Our objective yesterday was to plant a new forest. There were four of us in total, including the owner of the land, who was planting larger trees by the road. The rest of us were planting one- or two-year-old birch, spruce, poplar, and pine. We were using a tool specifically designed for planting new trees. It looks like a thick pogo stick. The bottom end is pointed with a spring-loaded flap. You press this pointed end into the ground, then step on a lever to open the flap. Drop a tree down the center of the pipe, lift the tool up, and press the earth around the base of the tree to secure it. With this tool, it is possible to plant more than a hundred trees an hour. We were working on steep slopes, and with other factors (such as having to carry the boxes of trees to where we were working) we ended up planting just over 1000 trees total.
It was satisfying work, particularly since the pogo sticks made it so simple to plant a lot of trees in a short amount of time. But after a few hours, it did become tedious. Nonetheless, we took several photos and look forward to returning in the years to come to watch the forest grow. At the moment, you cannot see the little trees beneath the grass.
Það er sið á íslandi til að ropa—it is a custom in Iceland to burp. No joke. Men and women alike burp freely and often, particularly at or just after meals. It is almost a way of demonstrating one’s enjoyment of a meal or drink. But burping is really just one of a series of behaviors that would normally be considered impolite, rude, or even socially reprehensible in other countries.
In addition to burping, its southerly counterpart also finds frequent demonstration here in Iceland. Flatulence is not for concealment and embarrassment, but often for a pride befitting an American high school or college locker room. Evidence of this pride can be found in the particular tone of said breaking wind—a long, drawn-out, high-pitched squeal indicates considerable more effort used to pass gas than the short and low rumbles or bursts that bespeak the free flow of fumes from one vessel to another, or even a momentary (and shaming) loss of self control.
In addition to the open expulsion of gases from the body, many Icelanders have developed mannerisms that would not be tolerated in other lands. On an average day, one can hear a myriad of non-verbal sounds: grunts, coughs, guffaws, and snorts. I have heard the loudest snoring here in Iceland, snoring that penetrates walls and doors, snoring that displays the most intricate combination of sounds ranging from traditional grumbling, to bird and animal calls, all from a single sleeping Icelander. Icelanders—who enjoy speaking so much and so quickly—generally cannot wait to speak until they have swallowed their food, so go ahead and talk with their mouths full, regardless of the bits of hotdog or the flecks of skýr shooting out of their mouths like ash from Eyjafjallajökull.
Despite my hyperbole, you’ll find this is true. But Icelanders perform these social disgraces so naturally that they do not come across as disrespectful or rude. They are simply part of the culture. It is perhaps shocking to observe them at first—and even now it is funny—but these actions do not carry the impropriety they do abroad. The Icelanders tend to be very comfortable in their own skins, however those skins look. A single trip to any swimming pool will show you this.
These sounds and mannerisms are part of the language and culture. When in Rome, do as the Romans. Well, I’m in Iceland now, so já, já, brrrp!
Yesterday, my boss Siggi and I spent almost 16 hours driving around the west of Iceland delivering tens of thousands of trees. What might be called a “grove” in America is considered a “forest” here in Iceland, but that is changing. People are planting lots and lots of trees, and the forests are starting to become a reality. There are a few sizable areas that were planted with pine and spruce more than 20 years ago that are now dense forests. Driving around Iceland, you can see large stretches of barren grassland dotted with tiny green trees.
Yesterday was inspiring. Seeing people planting forests gave meaning to the long and tedious hours spent sorting literally hundreds of thousands of trees by size and strength. The trees are sown in black plastic boxes, five spaces wide and eight spaces deep. Each box holds 40 trees, so delivering about 1000 boxes in one trip means delivering enough trees to cover acres and acres of land.
There are only a few kinds of trees in Iceland, and none are that tall, but as the forests grow, they provide the necessary wind block to allow for taller growth. The main trees are birch, pine, spruce, and ash. There is another type of tree, almost weed-like, used for windblocks. Most of the evergreens come from Alaska, though there are now second and even third generation Icelandic trees sown from seeds taken from trees that originally came from Alaska.
A lot of Iceland is barren desert, covered in black volcanic sand and gravel. Nothing grows in these places. Those involved in reforestation sow these areas with another plant from Alaska: lúpina. Lúpina will take in these areas and will spread, creating a dense green foliage about knee-high. This solidifies the soil, preventing erosion, and makes it possible to then move other plants into the area. Once lúpina is established, it can be cut down, and grass can be sown. After a few years of cutting lúpina and introducing grass, the lúpina will be completely replaced by grass.
It is not possible to plant trees directly in the volcanic sands because the winter frosts will push the plants clean out of the ground. They need the insulation and stabilization of surrounding roots. This is why lúpina is so useful. But it is not a native plant, and many people seek to destroy lúpina and keep it from being used further. It is, for example, illegal to plant lúpina or foreign trees in national parks. But these people are in many ways trying to protect the “nature” that has resulted from centuries of human destruction. Deforestation in the middle ages and abundant animal husbandry have turned many rich areas in Iceland to desert.
I hope that I will have the opportunity to return to Iceland in 20 years time or so and walk in the forests.
Here is some footage of Seljalandsfoss, a famous waterfall in the south of Iceland. You can actually walk completely around the waterfall as the rock is hollowed out behinds the falls.
There are several foods consumed in Iceland that are rarely found elsewhere, if at all. Many of these are festival foods, eaten on special occasions. Whale meat, puffin, sheep’s head, and rotten shark are Icelandic specialties, but generally not consumed on a daily basis. I’ll deal more with these foods later—right now, I’d like to focus on the daily fare.
Hamburgers and Hotdogs - I have never seen a people eat more hamburgers and hotdogs than the Icelanders. Coming from America, that’s saying something. Icelandic hotdogs, or pylsur, are made with lamb meat and are really tasty. They are usually eaten with ketchup, a special mustard, mayonnaise, and crispy onion bits. Hamburgers and french fries are everywhere, and there’s not much about them that’s particularly Icelandic.
Ice Cream – Icelanders also love their ice cream. They eat it all the time, whether in summer or winter, and it’s very popular to get a vanilla cone dipped in chocolate. If you’re noticing a trend here in terms of fatty foods, you’re not wrong. And to be quite honest, a lot of Icelanders could stand to shed a few pounds…
Skýr – Skýr is one of my favorite Icelandic foods, and one I wish were available more outside of Iceland. It is technically a cheese, but has the consistency of yogurt. It is made from skim milk, so has almost no fat, but is really high in protein, making it an ideal work-out food. It is possible to get flavored skýr—such as blueberry, strawberry, or vanilla—or just plain skýr. Blending skýr with fruit and milk makes a really nice shake. I’ve also taken to drinking skýr, skim milk, and Nesquick blended together.
Butter and Cheese – Two other staples of the Icelandic diet are butter and cheese. Icelanders eat a lot of dairy products, which makes sense. Vegetables and meat are expensive here, so bread and dairy products often make up the primary staples. The funny thing is that there aren’t many varieties of cheese. For a country that relies so heavily on dairy, there are generally only two kinds of cheese for sale in the supermarkets: generic cheese and camembert.
Other Meats - Other meats commonly eaten include fish—trout and salmon—meatballs (kjötbollur), and fish balls (fiskibollur). Many Icelanders also eat dried fish, called harðfiskur. I’m not a big fan of fish that tastes really fishy, if you know what I mean, so I can’t say I’m a big eater of harðfisk. Horse meat, forbidden for centuries after the conversion of Iceland in the year 1000, is now also popular. It was considered a heathen practice to eat horse meat, but that’s not very important to most people these days.
Mýsa – Mýsa is made from the liquid drained off in making skýr, pretty much the same as the liquid in cottage cheese. It is made into a spread for putting on bread, or into a bitter drink. Can’t say I’m a big fan of the drink, but the spread is good.
Drinks - Icelanders tend to drink a lot of milk, but there are some specifically Icelandic drinks. Malt is very popular; it’s a brewed drink, but the alcohol content is low enough even children drink it. It’s very sweet and kinda yeasty, but I’ve acquired a taste for it even though I didn’t like it at first. There is also mýsa, mentioned above. A popular soda is Egils Appelsinusafi, an orange soda drink. On the alcohol side of things, there are a few Icelandic beers, none terribly memorable, and a strong alcohol called Brennivín. Brennivín is also known as the “black death” because of its strength and black label.
So, that’s a pretty sound overview of foods consumed on a daily basis. Bread, butter, and cheese are primary staples, as well as fast food. If you want to stay trim in Iceland, it’s best to make skýr central to the diet, and try to avoid the cheese, ice cream, and too many pylsur.
Icelandic has a complicated grammar and can be difficult to pronounce. But the most difficult aspect of learning Icelandic is the Icelanders themselves. There are very few resources for learning Icelandic, so talking and conversing is even more important in learning Icelandic than in learning other languages. But Icelanders—numbering only 300,000—all speak English and are generally very proud of their abilities in English. As a result, many of them like to flaunt their knowledge of English, even when it is clear you understand their Icelandic perfectly well. It is a constant effort to get Icelanders to actually speak Icelandic.
Part of the issue is that foreigners are very much revenue here. More people come to Iceland every year as tourists than live here, so if you are from another country, Icelanders generally consider you a passerby. It is frustrating conversing with Icelanders, though, because as soon as I make a mistake or betray that I am not Icelandic, the conversation is likely to shift to English. Even when I continue speaking Icelandic, Icelanders will often speak back in English. And when conversing in Icelandic, if I say, “Ha?”—which just means “what?”—the reply is often in English, not Icelandic, even if the only reason I didn’t understand the first time was that I hadn’t actually heard what was said. When I do not understand, Icelanders often delight in the opportunity to display their knowledge of English, rather than explain in other words in Icelandic. I’m at a point with the language where I do not need to use English at all, so I prefer to have things explained in Icelandic rather than to translate back and forth between English and Icelandic.
I’ve just finished reading the first Harry Potter book in Icelandic. When I started, it was pretty difficult going, but at this point it’s not too bad. I still don’t know every word, but words and phrases that are repeated over and over again, I’ve learned their meaning just from context. I’m quite confident that if I were working only on the language, it would take only 3 or 4 months to reach a high level of fluency. As it is, I’ve become fully conversant in Icelandic already, and am working on expanding my vocabulary and getting better at forming grammatically correct sentences quickly. Pronunciation can be difficult at times because Icelanders, like Americans, tend to blend words together, sometime slurring heavily. I can pronounce the language better if I speak slowly, but I have not yet mastered slurring the words together to sound more native.
Andreas Werner here concludes his discussion of the basics of chess. Together, these videos make up a good resource for getting started with actual strategics in playing the game. I myself always knew that there was more to chess than knowing how the pieces moved, but did not know what that was. Playing with Andi has given me a much better sense of the game, and it’s easier to see now how important chess could be for learning strategy that could be actually applied in live battles. I was particularly intrigued by three things I learned:
1) Openings belong to systems, and the objective in the opening is to develop all one’s pieces.
2) The center of the board holds the most importance, and players should try to control this area.
3) Piece have specific pawn value, bishops and knights being equal, with rooks being more valuable. I always used to sacrifice rooks fairly casually.
It would take years to become a master of chess, but spending a little bit of time learning the game can go a long way, especially if you are interested in understanding the applicability of chess and why the game has been so popular among noblemen since the middle ages.
