A while ago, I started thinking in English. It was a simple enough thought exercise that just sort of stuck around, even after I came back home.
Home, to me, is Iceland. You know, that little island in the middle of the Atlantic? First known for the actual vikings and then for the outvasion vikings of the economy, both famous for raping and pillaging their respective fields? What a barrel of bullhorns our history is..
And off course, it’s home. We’re so often blinded by ungratefulness when it comes to our home. It’s so laced with tourists these days, we’re continuously bombarded with their excitement and enthusiasm; those people that do not have to live here during the winter and irritate us with their dumbstruck awe of all things Icelandic. It gets hard to really see the beauty of your backyard, especially when you’re made so aware of not having fresh eyes to view it’s charm.
It’s home, you know, what else is new?
Well, me thinking in English is. The other day, I was biking home from down town, to my current home in Waterfall Valley, when I stopped to think. Waterfall Valley? Not once in my life have I connected any meaning to the name, it’s so close to my mind in Icelandic that I’ve never had the prospective to see it clearly. It really is quite beautiful; Waterfall Valley.
So, in the corniest of moments, I turned around to look over the city. The sun was pretend-setting like it does in the summer, dipping just bellow the horizon while leaving all its brightness behind, before popping up again, minutes later and in almost the exact location. And it gets so golden. This being an island and all, there’s no real pollution to stop the sun rays. Everything gets colored by that sheer golden glimmer, that, in the span of a consecutive sundown and sunrise, hangs around for hours and hours. It sparkles from our beer bottles and buildings and colors our faces and our memories of the glorious summers in Iceland.
I feel a bit silly now, having ever uttered the words ‘it’s Iceland; so what’. What a difference a slightly changed mindset can make. Sometimes we just need a little help, tapping into the magic.
And there surely is magic here. This really is a country of elves and exquisite nature, of extreme darkness and light, silence and sound. How dare I belittle peoples interest and emotion? You should be exited to come here, to be here, and if nothing else, do the golden circle. Just because it’s a tourist cliché doesn’t mean it’s not stunningly beautiful. Just because I’ve seen it before, just because it’s not new, that doesn’t undermine peoples right to be inspired.
I can see why people would want to come her. Home or not home, there’s no other place like it. I’m sorry I ever forgot that.
So, in conclusion; Bad, Jóna, bad!
Now go serve you punishment, sitting outside under the blue and golden sky, suffering through a glass of wine with your friends while getting a tan at 2am. And appreciate the fairytale land you live in, GD it!