Promises to be a nice day, not as windy as had been the last two. Normally I would have today off (and tomorrow) but opted to work this afternoon. Once every six weeks or so my schedule calls for four days free, but it’s followed by working through the coming weekend until the next Friday. For me, one weekend is sufficient since I have no particular plans in mind.

Yesterday afternoon I set off for Grindavik via Krysuvik, the long way around, to visit some friends. However, when I reached the base of the mountain pass at Krysuvik, the wind and rain picked up something fierce. I pulled over and waited a minute, deciding whether or not to continue. Something said no, so I turned around; wind was far to strong and didn’t want to take any chances. From that point until Grindavik there’s no cell phone service, cut off from the mountain range directly over the Mid-Atlantic tectonic plate. The atmosphere was spooky enough to make this ridge open up and swallow me without a trace. In circumstances like this the surrounding landscape of frozen-wave larva covered in moss looks threatening. Here and there was an occasional cairn set up centuries ago and maintained until not that long ago. These cairns were markers for people on horseback and foot not to get lost in the frozen waves, very easy to do.

Icelanders are quite sensitive to the cold, more so than you'd expect. Even when the weather is warm as it is now (13C at 11am) you see teenagers with hats on, something with which an American kid would never be caught dead. I attribute this sensitivity to the abundant, cheap geothermal heat...most homes have it on full blast.

Please note: tomorrow (Tuesday) is a holiday, May 1st. I may not be able to post an entry for that day since I'm experiencing trouble entering posts from my home computer. That means I may have to wait until Wednesday to post at work.

Fourth Sunday of Easter. Yesterday the wind did not let up a bit all day long, close to hurricane force, despite the sunshine and warm temps. A light brown hue pervaded the atmosphere, apparently sand kicked upfrom the interior. Most of what comprises the stuff of Iceland is black, yet there is an abundance of lighter soil more brown in color. Chances are that the bright sun made it lighter than usual whileswirling in the air. As for the sun itself, starting about now you haveto be careful to cover your head as protection against sun stroke, and this has nothing to do with warm or cool temps. Don´t forget...no trees for shade.

In the afternoon I decided to get out, despite high winds. Towards the east is a large, table-top mountain some 15 kilometers distant upon which I´ve seen cars. That is, on occasion Id see headlights up thereand wondered about an access road. So I drove towards Mosfellsbáe hung east and followed a good dirt road for some 20k. Normally such roadsare fine, but yesterday I kicked up a huge swirl of dust. Even worse, when a car approached, I had to roll up my windows to prevent his dust from filling my car. Welcome to the desert, not an uncommon experience in Iceland. Yes, the landscape is desert-like, reminiscent of Southern California only little or no shrubs. I found that access road which wasvery rough, not suited for an ordinary vehicle. Despite open planes, walking is difficult due to clumps of moss. It consists of one foot up and the other down, constantly on guard, which makes for very difficult maneuvering. Today is just as bright but certainly not as windy.

Yesterday I noted that I started reading sections in Exodus pertinent to the Red Sea incident and finished off this morning, always a thrill to read. Some years ago on my Lectio Page I did a study of Hebrew words, so refer anyone interested to it. "In the morning watch the Lord in the pillar of fire and of cloud looked down upon the host of the Egyptians and discomforted the Egyptians" (14.24). Note the distinction between the two divine looks, from the pillar of fire and the cloud, both being effected simultaneously, which resulted in a discomforting of the Egyptians. Hamah is the verb, fundamentally as to hum, coo, mourn, or sigh. From it derives a common noun, multitude. And so this mourning/sighing stems from the double looking-down by the Lord from brightness and darkness.

Last evening around eight I saw Eimskip’s container ship Dettifoss depart through the still fog-like mist lying just offshore (each Eimskip ship is named after an Icelandic waterfall). Within a few minutes the ship was lost from sight headed to God-only-knows-where. I could check the Internet, but that’d take away the mystery.

A lot of people are escaping Reykjavik for the countryside, a long weekend in store. Because the forecast seems promising, I just might return to the Hengill area…not to hike but walk around in leisurely fashion to absorb the unique atmosphere, especially that unique Icelandic sensation of being watched. Even though I plan on it, given the unpredictable nature of Icelandic weather, it just might no happen. For example, right now (9am) it’s bright and sunny, but the wind is howling at what seems hurricane force. There are no leaves nor tree branches to gauge the strength as you would in other places, just the sound and occasional piece of paper flying by.

I read some material in passing which says that our task in life is to return to the Garden of Eden. However, that seems incorrect. Better to say Eden is a half-way house of which we retain anamnesis and use that anamnesis for future attainment.

A few entries ago I mentioned a tv program where scientists were examining the miracles in Exodus. And so this morning I opened my Hebrew Bible and read most of chapter 14 (will finish the rest tomorrow), that is, in light of science. First impression through the Hebrew text: that it is an oral account which changes completely how you view it. The genius of this Hebrew text is that while it is something that had been written down, it is very close to the oral experience. One verse (14.14) caught my attention: “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be still.” The verb here is charash, fundamentally as “to plough,” “to fabricate (evil).” Apart from this, I picked up a subtle kind of humor. Here were the Israelites pressed in on every side, their backs up against the sea, making them cry out and lament. Quite a few references to this are before vs. 14. Next, God tells them basically to shut up, tired of all this babbling.

A dark, rainy morning but the weekend promises to be a fine one. Once every six weeks I have four days off, this time round being Monday and Tuesday. However, I offered to work Monday pm, so am on for it. This year, however, May 1st (Tuesday) is a holiday.

I saw a tv program which gave a scientific explanation of the Exodus plagues and Red Sea crossing. They were attempting to see where faith, history and science agree or disagree. Although scientific principles were followed together with sophisticated instruments, there was something bordering on the naïve about all this. It was a familiar science vs. faith confrontation with the former coming out as victor even before any conclusions were drawn. I´ve always felt that the Bible should be used as a vehicle for lectio divina, especially when using the original languages. Not only that, but a contemplative attitude is crucial to see another dimension. Unfortunately, the program never touched on this nor did I expect it to. At the same time, I was painfully aware of the absence of this contemplative-lectio approach. This makes the faith side a looser by default. If anyone were to bring contemplation to the discussion, people would look at you with the blankest of stares. And so, best to leave alone these programs and the attitudes they represent and work quietly away. When you do, sooner or later you´re bound to meet a like-minded person, even if one in a billion.

The Virginia Tech massacre faded from the news quickly, no surpise there, and we´re moving on to the daily horrors of Iraq. One co-worker made an interesting observation…he has no problem with (gun) violence in America. When I asked why, he responded by referring to the European history of warefare and violence which makes everything else pale in comparsion.

Yesterday I had my snow tires replaced for regular ones, Barðurinn, a place which specializes in tires only…very busy with 8 bays to receive vehicles. It was filled with organized confusion and plenty of black dirt from all the activity, right down to the desk area where the computer was covered in what appeared a permanent soot. Then I got a call from Dennis and Hjördis, a husband-and-wife architect team, he being half American. Their website (also in English) is http://www.arkhd.is/. They’ve become well established and do all kinds of stuff from homes to schools to embassies. I've known Dennis' mother a long time, now in her mid 80s, and not well. She is friends with Dolly of the same age whom I mentioned earlier, very down-to-earth and no-nonsense. Apparently about 10 years ago Dolly returned home to America with the intent of making a go of living out her remaining years there. She stayed about 6 months and found the overall atmosphere inferior to Iceland and hence returned.

Here it’s not uncommon for young people to do a year or two of college after which they take a break to work for a year or so and then finish off their education. One fellow at the post did two years of college and returns in the autumn. He spent the past year doing menial work unloading trucks out back. The reason given: not to make money but to experience what he terms a lousy job to give himself incentive for a higher education. Quite impressed, really.

This summer is predicted to be the hottest in 100 years, obviously part of global warming. The big fear is retreating glaciers as well as melting in nearby Greenland. Here at the Arctic people are especially sensitive to such matters because it affects them more than other places.

Yesterday turned out to be quite windy and rainy. It continued to blow through the night though the rain ceased. Early this morning the Arctic Princess from Nuuk, Greenland, arrived, a frequent visitor.

I went to bed shortly before midnight last night and noticed that it wasn’t quite 100% dark, sign of brighter days…nights…to come.

Some friends in Boston sent an article about an Icelandic architect who remodeled an old house in Cambridge. These good folks have always had a keen interest in Scandinavian architecture and furniture, even at one point having had a furniture store specializing in that stuff. They retain an idealized view of Scandinavia but never visited. When I asked why, they said that seeing the reality would destroy the idealized vision. I thought of that observation frequently when going about my business here and can see the pluses and minuses of what they mean. While technically part of Scandinavia, Iceland is very different, chiefly due to the Celtic influence. Furthermore, Icelanders always had a rebellious, independent spirit about them reflected both in older and newer architecture. “Hodge-podge,” as a friend here observed accurately. In the final analysis, the genius of Iceland remains hidden from most visitors, that is, the language and the keen interest in things literary which applies equally to other cultures.

Taco Bell opened a place in Garðabǽ recently, first one in Iceland, which joins the ranks of Domino’s, MacDonald, Burger King and Pizza Hut. Spring flyers are coming in about summer sales of clothing, grills, garden equipment and all the rest associated with the season.

A still, muggy and rather morning, about 7C at 7.45. Yesterday I had a conversation with a fellow worker about Icelandic, the language. He picked out several English words and their relationship with Icelandic and did this in some detail. I stood there amazed. Here was what you’d call an ordinary Icelander digressing on a subject near to if not equivalent with a college level class. By no means is this untypical. I’ve had many a similar conversation over the years and continue to be awe-struck. Try pulling that off with your average American worker.-On several occasions I’ve spoken about this smallish ship, a kind of mini-tanker, which I see each day from my window. It circles around the harbor each and every day for reasons which remain a mystery; seems to lack a consistent pattern I haven’t the slightest clue and must get to the bottom of this!

Last evening at work the cafeteria had ýsa or baked haddock, exceptionally fine. The meals put out there are for the most part very fine…and very cheap which certainly helps.

About 80 kilometers southeast of Reykjavik is Iceland’s only prison called Lítla Raun which translates Little Larva. An apt name.

As I noted, last Thursday (April 19th) was the First Day of Summer, a national holiday. That was the day when people broke out their grills and just about are on every porch or lawn. A tradition not unlike Forth of July with grilling just as big as in the USA.

By reason of being an island, Iceland can have a mentality suited for such an environment though not as much as in other places due to high literacy and cultural events. At the same time I find myself having adopted such an island mentality…it creeps up on you slowly but surely. I’d describe it as considering your environment as the center of the world around which you expect everyone else (i.e., non-Icelanders) to revolve.

Yesterday I stopped by work briefly to use a computer to upload entry for that day, having had some problems with the blogger website from my homecomputer. They had ordered Domino’s pizza (http://www.dominos.is/), so I grabbed afew pieces, delighted at having made an unexpected discovery. I’ve noticed that Icelanders like Hawaiian pizza…pineapples as part of the topping. Another favorite for Chinese take-out is found at www.nings.is.

Later in the day I in part of the nearby Reykjanes peninsula at the end of which is located Iceland’s international airport at Keflavik. It’s one of the most barren, unattractive areas in the country, and first time visitors feel as if they’ve landed on the moon. Icelanders feel a bit awkward when foreigners note their impressions, knowing full well of that area´s unappeal. Later I accessed a website of the area which read “You may not know it, but as soon as you touch down at Keflavik Airport, your experience has alreadybegun.” Surely someone with a bizarre sense of humor had written thosewords.

As for the Reykjanes peninsula, over the years there has been talk of constructing an electrified railroad line between Reykjavik and the airport at Keflavik, some 55 kilometers away. It would also towns outside Reykjavik, thereby creating a commuter rail system. Some have said the cost is prohibitive as well as the strong winds and snow on the peninsula. To counter this, proponents claim that due to the loose volcanic soil, the rail line could be laid in a trench for protection against the elements. Another element in favor is the cheap electricity generated by geothermal power. I haven’t heard much about this project since my arrival but like a growing number of people, hope it will be constructed.

In the afternoon I decided to drive to the Hengill area which I visited forthe first time about 2 months ago, this being my 3rd time there. Very intriguing landscape: similar to Reykjanes and Krysuvik by reason of itsall-around barrenness yet not as “primeval,” perhaps due to the gentler hills and mountains. Hengill is only about 30 minutes away across a flat, barren larva flow which parallels one of the main above-ground steam pipesfeeding Reykjavik. The road ascending the mountains (which aren’t terribly high) twists and turns but is in fine condition with recently plowed snow on the summit. I parked in a small valley and took one of the many trails just to get a better idea of the place. Over a rise I hit upon a spectacular narrow valley with many rock formations being human size. The side of one cliff had caves, Qumran-like, but I doubt precious mss are awaiting there to be discovered. All in all, being out there was just another instance of the famous Icelandic sense of being watched by someone, somewhere nearby. At the same time this feeling isn’t intrusive despite the barren landscape but in a way, comforting. Part of this comes from the fact that so many places in Iceland have place names, even in a small area. This naming is a kind of taming which neutralizes otherwise foreboding locales.

Iceland has no defense force, such a small nation. The only “warship” is something smaller than a destroyer with a few guns mounted front and rearfor patrolling local waters. From time to time I see it pull in and out ofReykjavik’s smaller harbor.

Icelanders lack what you could call a sense of religious guilt, something for which Catholics are (in)famous. Not that they are immoral (far from it), but their inbuilt simplicity substitutes for guilt, so to speak. Eventhough Iceland is technically a Lutheran country, people here have been remarkably immune to what you could call Protestant guilt which can be more severe than the Catholic type. It’s a refreshing attitude towards life youdon’t pick up unless dealing with folks over an extended period of time.

April 21st, Third Sunday of Easter.

Recently I was in an industrial area just outside Reykjavik, factories and the rest. Usually such places have smokestacks yet there were none because of the geothermal energy. Several exceptions: stacks used to expel excess heat which looks like smoke but is steam. This absence of smokestacks, even on houses, strikes a first-time visitor as odd but reveals the real treasure of Iceland.

Drizzly weather, not untypical. When it’s like this, often I think of the Gulf Stream…just a few degrees alteration, and we’d be like nearby Greenland, permanently locked in ice. However, that seems to be changing with global warming. Then again, global warming can do strange things and really screw up Iceland’s privileged place in the North Atlantic, transforming it into an icebox (virtually overnight).

I enjoy listening in on children speaking Icelandic. More often than not they don’t get the grammar right. By that I don’t mean the usual grammatical errors of such a young age but something more specific to the Icelandic language. It has four declensions. Add to that the singular and plural as well as four additional ways an adjective modifies a noun with the definite case. You hear parents constantly correcting their children as to the proper endings which to the untrained observer seems excessive, but it’s done from a desire to get the grammar used correctly. As for grammar applied to adults, there’s what is called “dative case sickness.” It reflects a tendency to throw many nouns into the dative case despite the fact that some prepositions govern other cases. This is natural and often railed against by purists or the grammar police who meet once a week to discuss formation of new Icelandic words and finer points of grammar. Their results are published in the main paper and followed with considerable attention, unique among modern cultures.

“Then Joshua gathered all the tribes of Israel to Shechem”…and they presented themselves to the Lord” [Jos 24.1]. On occasion we come across such statements and wonder about the nature of this presenting. The verb is natsav which means appointing, stationing or to be set. I.e., it has no specific religious connotation, more military in nature which fits in with the Joshua context. Chapter 24 brings to conclusion this book, Israel having gotten established in their new land, so it’s time to natsav and take stock before Joshua died and a new generation of leaders come on the scene. Natsav seems related to a recapitulation of Israel’s deliverance from Egypt and establishment in Canaan as we see here. The people are gathered to listen to this account, here delivered by Joshua. As for the passage at hand, it struck me how often the Red Sea event is recounted, that Israel must remember it. Such emphasis is important in a culture where hearing is the prime means of preserving heritage over the written word.

A fellow at work who started working in my dept recently told me he and the woman with whom he had been living for two years separated several months ago. They have twin daughters making this all the more painful. Living together outside wedlock has been common in Iceland for a long time, much longer than elsewhere and not viewed as “sinful.” Part of the reason: Iceland is a small nation where people know each other, like one big tribe. Actually, this is part of her history from the beginning (rather, clans and families). Thus living together is like moving in with one of your relatives. This fellow told me that Icelandic women tend to lord it over their husbands and families, something I’ve known for years and which would delight feminists from abroad. Yes, they have a particularly demanding way…not forceful but something more by their presence. No small wonder that Icelandic women view feminists with disdain, as behaving immaturely. I might insert a brief footnote here: Icelandic women certainly are among the most beautiful in the world, if not THE most beautiful!

When I was out at Krysuvik two days ago I was struck, as always, at the new and tortured landscape. Everything appeared to be in a jumble. However, it makes sense if you engage in contemplation which quickly I’d identify as suspending your thoughts. Looking at nature like this puts it into perspective, for then you could contemplate (the theory of) evolution as the way someone or something would manifest that which he or it would like to say. The glacial development of various species, rise and fall of mountain chains and the like, so unconnected with God, then fit in nicely. But that means you have to be careful about using this word “God.” All in all, we in the West got ourselves into quite a pickle with the theory of evolution and spirituality. On a level you rarely if ever hear, the real problem is that contemplation in the West is rare. If it were more developed as in places such as India and the like, we’d be in a better spot.

Yesterday I spent more time at Krysuvik than anticipated, the weather was so good. As I noted elsewhere, I wish I had a Thoreauvian gift to describe it but fail to do so adequately. Still that doesn’t prevent enjoying the atmosphere. Big Sky Country is apt, but Iceland has volcanoes and geothermal activitycompared to places like Montana. Then throw in the ocean, and you have a unique place. The landscape in a place like Krysuvik is as moon-like as you can get. Quite a few Icelanders consider it haunted despite theproximity to Reykjavik, so not many go there. Understandable because ofthe raw, just-born appearance to the mountain range which straddles theMid-Atlantic rift. In a sense, Krysuvik reminds one of Mt. Sinai though from the photos I´ve seen, Sinai is older looking. This observation is accurate because Iceland is young, geologically speaking.

I parked by Kleifavatn, a large lake that doubles as a reservoir for area ssouth of Reykjavik and walked out onto a promontory some 60 meters abovethe water. On each side were jagged cliffs and tiny, crescent beaches withbeautiful black sand. Several other promontories are nearby on which it’d be easy to drive a car and pull a Thelma and Louise over the edge. Actually about 10 years ago two women did just that, perhaps “inspired” by the movie. Even though there’s no vegetation, quickly you can get lost. Sounds odd, but there are many dips and rises in the landscape not unlikeocean waves (i.e., the larva) frozen in time which makes for quick disorientation. Then you have to watch constantly for loose volcanic gravel, perfect for twisting your ankle. On the positive side, some of this gravel offers a perfect cushion for walking, that is, when on levelground. Also the moss provides a great mattress for laying down to soak in the rays because it doesn’t retain moisture. As for catching rays, toromnow right through autumn you have to be very careful with exposure to the sun,very intense here. The countless juttings of rocks in a place like Krysuvik gives rise to a feeling that you’re not alone. This is acknowledged as universal among Icelanders and easy to see why. Sometimes rock croppings as in the midst of a frozen larva field appear human or animal like, especially from the corner of your eye. Couldn´t help but think of Lot´s wife who turned into a pillar of salt. Then you have rock ledges or boulders looming overhead or volcanic crevices in which you catch a fleeting glimpse of an elf or whatever. Don’t forget. These are at every footstep and quickly forms an impression in your mind. I had that being-watched feeling at Krysuvik, no doubt, but it’s enhanced when theweather is dark and windy…like you’re trespassing onto someone’s turf without permission.

As for yesterday being the first day of summer here in Iceland, today started off with snowshowers.

First Day of Summer. Yes, that’s right, first day of summer, a major holiday in Iceland. I haven’t the slightest clue as to the details. Yesterday everyone was wishing each other a happy summer which, in mid April, sounds a bit weird. I asked an Icelander about this which I had know for many years. She didn’t know either. Maybe it has something to do with the light which is getting pretty close to 24 hours now, with long twilight after 10.30pm.

Yesterday Reykjavik had a major albeit unfortunate milestone in its history. About 2pm a fire broke out in a bar, the old downtown section, which quickly spread until it consumed approximately ¼ of the old section. Many of those buildings had been designated as historical and are irreplaceable. I heard that a barmaid caused it and ran across the street for a fire extinguisher during which time the fire spread rapidly. I was at work, and everyone was attuned to their radios and Internet with live video streaming. Police halted all incoming traffic but were afraid curiosity seekers would flood downtown anyway. Extremely sad, given that Reykjavik has so few buildings of historical value. Many are wooden with external facades of all things, corrugated metal. Over the years before modern insulation methods came to be, this was state-of-the-art stuff.

One other point I throw in here: I’ve noted often Iceland’s geothermal power which, as many have said, has spoiled the nation because it’s so inexpensive. It wasn’t until WW II that this natural potential had been tapped. Before that, here and there, and of all things, imported coal.

I saw a helicopter overhead early this morning, a þyrla. That's what I like about Icelandic, original words as opposed to wishy-washy copies.

Promises to be an exceptionally fine day, this first day of summer! I’ve been invited to a barbecue later on but will preface this by a drive out to Krysuvik to soak in the austere natural beauty there. Often when I used the adjective “exceptional” as applied to the weather that always means no wind.

Last evening when President Bush was addressing the assembly at Virginia Tech my cable tv service went on the blink and stayed that way throughout the evening. I phoned service which said the problem was their end. Quite surprised that it lasted so long. Anyway, I used the time productively, working on a little essay I'll post in about two months or whenever. Though I'm paying for this service and wasn't happy at having none for a long time, it was good to be without.

Local reaction to the Virginia Tech massacre didn’t take people here by surprise; several told me it typified much of what’s wrong with America, thattt is, lack of gun control. At the same time, nobody railed against the US, just expressed their sadness.

Today’s weather is partly cloudy, not the slightest breeze, which makes Iceland one of the most special places in the world to experience natural silence. You don’t have to go far from the city or inhabited areas because urban planning here is quite advanced. That is to say, even some 50 years ago natural surroundings were incorporated such as paths, wooded areas and the like.

“The Lord…will drive them out of your sight, and you shall possess their land” [Jos 23.5]. The same verb (yarash) with two different meanings; fundamental sense is to inherit which here seems to imply ridding oneself of an obstacle before actually possessing it.

Icelanders are wild over American Idol, following it closely. They also like Desperate Housewives, CSI and 24 Hours. Although British programs are offered, American ones are preferred head over heels.

When I arrived home about 4pm yesterday I turned on the tv to get a quick summary of the news and heard about one person having been shot to death at Virginia Tech. A half hour later it rose to 15, then 20 and finally at/around 33. Whenever a tragedy hits, somehow I´m more attentive to my surroundings, the pleasant weather and normal activity transpiring around me. It was interesting to hear several BBC and Sky News commentators, both from England. They simply could not comprehend America´s gun laws and the violence associated with them. From here in Iceland it seemed all the more strange. I asked a few people at work ho understandably were horffified. 'It´s Bush´s fault' said five. Of course, not true, but this remark shows the deep-seated animosity towards W.

Yesterday I set in motion renewal of both living and work permits, one year close to being completed. Dealing with that dept. is not pleasant as had been my experience last summer. This time the computer was down. Then I was told that as a citizen from a non-EU country, I should have applied three months ago. That went contrary to info they told me early March, one month. However, I´m not surprised. Later in the day (today) I visited several places for print-outs of tax forms, etc, with one more to go under the vague heading of "social services." I guess it has something to do with being a productive alien or whatever. I only hope tomorrow's visit to that office will conclude this run-around.

Last week I started to draw curtains to my bedroom when going to sleep because it was light around 5 am. This appearance of early light can be a bit difficult adjusting to. I heard that others have the same problem, but after a few weeks people get used to it.

There’s a fellow at work, late 50s, who is very much into old films and music. Yesterday he informed me that he bought a DVD series of Perry Mason and soon wants to get Gunsmoke. I marvel at this interest in what seems rather corny material but enjoy watching him take delight in describing what it means to him…reminiscent of his childhood when tv made its first appearance in Iceland (as noted yesterday).

Yesterday was semi-fine. By that I mean bright sunshine with alternating clouds, rain and sleet. I decided to head off to Blafell, relatively close yet isolated. I´ve been there before, special by reason of the view of Reykjavik and surrounding areas it offers. The road up is fine where snow was on the ground though not much. Towards the summit is a road...dirt or volcanic dirt...yet in fine condition which lead towards Hafnafjörður. I went down some 10 kilometers and parked where the view was especially fine. From my vantage point, the sweeping view towards Krysuvik-Keflavik some 40 kilometers distant, I saw several rain and snow showers moving towards Reykjavik. Walking around Iceland in general can be hazardous: loose volcanic gravel makes it treacherous because you can easily slip. Not just slip but fall on sharp pieces of hardened larva which is, of course, everywhere. Then you have moss which barely covers the surface and can give way at once. Moss might be more treacherous in that it conceals sharp larva, not worn down by weather.

Later that evening the wife of my friend from Westmannæyar dropped him off for an overnight stay at my place. Today he was headed for Copenhagen for three weeks to work on some Icelandic manuscripts stored there. He is a Catholic and resides with the Jesuits in downtown Copenhagen. That community was once thriving but now consists of five elderly priests; talk of closing it within two years or so.

Yesterday the Catholic cathedral played host to children making their first communion. Didn´t go but went to Hafnafjörður, a relatively new parish church with a fine layout and parish hall. It´s about 300 meters from the Carmelite cloister here since 1929 and now a virtual Polish enclave.

Low Sunday. Yesterday a mystery was solved. I visited a friend, an avid English football fan like so many here, and asked why such interest. I didn't mean the sport per se but Icelanders following the sport. He came up with a practical answer: Iceland didn't receive television since 1967, incredible as that may seem. Even then for many years there was one state-run channel on between 8-10.30pm with no broadcasting on Thursday evenings plus none during the month of July. English football was among the first broadcasts to be shown, chiefly because of English NATO forces stationed in Keflavik. So that's the humble yet practical beginning of a tradition that has caught on here like wildfire.

Recently I picked up for a re-read Icarus Fallen by Chantal Delsol. She takes up the theme of Icarus who soared too close to the sun and fell into the sea where he died. Delsol alters the myth by having Icarus live and finding himself back in familiar territory from which he wanted to escape so desperately. In other words, this is the predicament we're in nowadays. It's not unlike the prodigal son (as she admits) yet takes up this myth over the parable to avoid overtly religious symbols, etc. If she had gone that route, she would have turned off most of her audience. Still, the religious overtones run deep in Icarus Fallen, so looking forward to a re-visit.

"I have decided." I continue listening to what I call AA Radio each morning or broadcasts of American speakers from Alcoholics Anonymous. These simple words are the very starting point of recovery, situated as they are in the context of relying upon a "higher power."

Yesterday was a real soaker, rain all day well into the evening hours. However, this morning looks like it'll be a beauty so plan on getting out sometime in the course of a day. As for "day," I understand we're gaining approximately five minutes each day, very noticeable.

"We work just eight hours a day for food and shelter." Words from a lady at the post describing the Icelandic attitude towards work, something I've known a long time. She continued by saying that many people hold down second or second part-time jobs. A lot of this relates to maintaining a life style beyond one's means, wanting the biggest and best of everything, typically Icelandic. If it doesn't work, chuck it in the trash. If I heard these words and saw these actions in the USA or any other country, I'd be dismayed. However, there comes through and comes through constantly that Icelandic child-like simplicity which is the most attractive part of living here. I experience it daily, often more than that, and feel right at home despite attitudes that otherwise would be disagreeable.

Was reading in the Phaedo about the similarity between mislogues and misanthropes. The former are those who hate rational discourse which Plato equates with those who hate people. Of course, logos is part of "misologue" which has deeper significance in Greek.

Stores, gas stations and supermarkets are fond of putting up flags displaying their respective logos, that is, when they open and take them down at closing. Quite colorful, really.

April 13th or Friday the 13th. For some time now I’ve been observing Icelandic teenagers, how they stack up vis-à-vis their American counterparts. I’d say both have more similarities compared with, for example, European ones. A major difference: Icelandic teenagers—certainly not all but all too many, I’m afraid—seem more crude, even barbaric. The major difference is that they aren’t violent as sometimes in the States. I say barbaric as opposed to violent in the sense of acting in a sub-human manner. This is evident by their language, dress and all around comportment. I dislike making this observation yet found it verified by other people here who are concerned about future generations. In sum, secular consumerism in a relatively safe environment such as Icelandic society is in the process of inbreeding this sub-human element. The only way seems to be going further down the scale, at least that’s how it strikes me.

I’ve heard about this controversy over an American talk show host, Don Imus, who supposedly made racial-gender remarks about a sports team. I have only the vaguest of information, but what captured my attention on tv were shots of those offended by Imus’ remarks. There they were sitting there pouting. Not just that but enjoying every minute of having been offended. From my perch in Iceland this seems utterly foreign, from another planet. I haven’t asked anyone about it here but surely would receive some fairly withering.

Yesterday I visited a friend at LIN, the government based student loan association. This lady is, second in charge, a good friend of many years. Yesterday she returned from a day long trip to Akureyrei in the north, a 50 minute flight. She got home 3 hours late and was completely exhausted. While discussing this we talked about how people are enslaved to work and that when you retire, you look back and see little if nothing accomplished. Familiar stuff which came home while glancing at people on the street outside going about their business, i.e., all slaves to their work.

Since after the Easter holiday there’s a noticeable drop of pressure at work, close to the point of trying to fill in time. That’s always been a problem, trying to be productive during the designated time you’re supposed to be at work. Fortunately I don’t have this often nor am overworked; could say that all things considered, I have it good.

One fellow at work is an avid listened to old rock n’ roll music, that is from the ‘50s and early ’60s. Also he has become quite a historian of that music which make him fun to talk with. I asked why the interest and the response was that it reminded him of his childhood, “carefree days” as he put it.

Technically I have both today and tomorrow off prefaced by the weekend, the usual 4 days off about once every six weeks or so. Problem is, it is the week right after 4 days of Easter break, kind of weird, but figure that’s how the schedule goes. Since I’d like to be off May 7th, I asked to switch that day for work tomorrow which turned out fine.

Looks like a typical rainy day with that vague type of clearing you see here and there. Again with things Icelandic, a moderating influence.

A lot of people are conscious of recyling, especially in light of global warming which is bound to increase this. However, Icelanders are appallingly negligent here. Since WW II the country hasa grown increasingly prosperous which has fed that peculiar Icelandic character of wanting the best and biggest...immediately. While common to most consummer societies, here it operates big time. Ask any Icelander about the environment, especially as it relates to recycling, and he or she would look at you with amazement, at how stupid you are to bring up such a matter. To counter this, some have said that Iceland is too insulated, that it needs a shock, and that could come in the Gulf Stream altering just a fraction which would plunge the country into deep freeze. While contrary to beliefs about global warming, this, I'm told, is part of it.

This morning around 11 I saw a large snow squall move off the ocean from the west and cover Reykjavik’s inner harbor of Sundahofn. From my vantage point, I was unable to see if it affected the city itself, but the view was quite impressive. The area north of Reykjavik stayed perfectly clear. The Arctic Princess, a ship bearing the Greenland flag, just made it into port before disappearing from my sight some 5 kilometers away. It was the same ship I first noticed about two months ago.

Yesterday afternoon a friend and I drove to nearby Breiőholt, suburb of Reykjavik, or as Icelanders say, “uppi í Breiőholti” or “up in Breiőholt,” dative case. It has a great location, highest around, with a commanding view of the city and harbor. That section has a less than desirable reputation, kind of low-life, yet the homes and apartments are just as fine as anywhere. However, there are a number of very large apartment complexes, Iceland’s equivalent to inner city living. There lives Olli, apparently semi-retarded and on disability, who has a special genius for reading old Icelandic manuscripts. The friend who brought me said Olli is a hidden treasure with his gift; rarely never leaves his apartment (quite nice, by the way).

When leaving work last evening around 10.15 pm I noticed the twilight which has come on real fast. Because the weather was so fine, not the slightest breeze and clear all around, the twilight gave the harbor a unique aquamarine color that was simply breathtaking. It’s light in the morning around 5.30, so that means about 7 hours of real darkness. I continue to amaze at how quickly we’re moving into summer light which means that soon I’ll have to draw blinds when going to bed.

April 10^th. Yesterday at work was easy as far as my department goes, foreign post, though the others were swamped with things to do. I stayed 40 minutes beyond quitting time (6pm), but most folks probably remained until well after 7. After all, the post was closed since Thursday. I saw first hand that Icelandic doing-things-at-the-last-minute, really in high gear, since people wanted to get out as quickly as they could. At the same time they weren’t cutting corners. Indeed, Icelanders function best when under pressure.

Reykjavik itself has a harbor for ocean-going ships as well as a smaller inner harbor for fishing boats. These range in size from ocean-going to coastal craft. However, the major fishing centers are scattered around the country, Westman Island being the considered among the most important.

The tourist season will be getting into high gear next month compared with the drop-off since last October. After all, who’d visit Iceland during the winter? I like this rhythm since it reveals two faces of Iceland: awareness of our centrality between Europe and America and our physical isolation.

While living in Iceland I’ve never gotten the sense of living in Europe even though we are part of Europe. I’ve spoken of this before, the American character of life here, so much so that superficially the major difference consists in signs in a language other than English. Refining this a bit more, I appreciate my New England heritage as opposed to a broader American one. New England has the closest ties with Europe by reason of its geographical position and culture. After all it is an England which is “new.” Yet part of that heritage is somewhat inimical towards Europe in that the American Revolution broke ties with England, and the Revolution is central to the New England mentality. Thus you have New England a part of the US yet different from it. Also, New England has an affiliation with Iceland you pick up at once. By reason of its separateness and westerly position relative to Europe, Iceland has an inbuilt independence from the continent and culture.. Like New England, they fought to be independent from foreign influence and are famous for their self-reliance. Virtually every Icelander I’ve met who has traveled to America expressed their special affection for New England. They felt an immediate kinship with it as opposed to “American” places like New York, Miami, San Francisco and so forth.

April 8th, Easter Sunday. I write this on the ferry which departed 8.15am, not having been able to take in an Easter service but will do so at 2pm in Reykjavik. Yesterday’s weather was close to if not hurricane force, and I dare not drive to some of the higher parts of the island for fear of being blow off, car and all. Today’s weather was fine by reason of no wind but typical drizzly weather and average seas. Departing the harbor, the ferry passes close by those incredible cake-like mountains with steep cliffs falling into it, a dramatic sight no matter how often you’ve seen it. The most remarkable feature of them all: sheep grazing on the top at an angle of 45 degrees and more. They’re up there all the time and come close to the edge, risking a 400 foot drop. I marvel at how they live under such conditions, especially when windy as yesterday, who puts them there and who corrals them. Surely a special breed. Bringing my car is worth the extra money which totals to an extra passenger. However, since my friend and his family reside on Westman, they can get a 40% discount. Well worth having the car even if I’ve seen the island before; always great to get out and about by myself.

I would have enjoyed being in Reykjavik yesterday for Easter Vigil at the Catholic cathedral but was stuck overnight in Westman. “Stuck” isn’t precisely the word since I came here on my own but felt that way. What gave that feeling was my friend with whom I was staying got quite ill around 7pm, his wife was at work until midnight in addition to 2 eight year old girls running around. When you’re on an island and want to get off, you know you’re really stuck. Often I wondered what people did during those long winter nights; can’t complain in my situation compared with them. Anyway, it’ll be an Easter “vigil” I won’t forget for a long time. While Christians around the world are commemorating Christ’s resurrection, here I am out of the loop, first time in my life. The experience was valuable in that despite the importance of Easter, God is God, transcending any gestures of worship we make. Always I had been aware that life was going on its merry way apart from these events, so today is a good re-enforcement of this insight.

April 9th, or what is called here Annar i Páska or second day of Easter, a full-fledged holiday. I head off to work 11-5, the only day with the exception of day after Christmas of triple overtime; volunteered for this a few weeks ago. Yesterday I arrived home around 11.30am and took in an English Anglican Mass at Hallgrimskirkja said by a Lutheran priest I know well. Then a quick visit to Jon and Olla and home for the day. All in all my Easter weekend went smoothly though different from what I had been accustomed. Why not?

After Hallgrimskirkja I met Dolly, an elderly American lady living here since end of WW II. She’s one of those people with her feet squarely on the ground. “Be grateful for the things you have and don’t go looking for things you can never have.” She concurred with an observation by a fellow at the university which I noted some time back, namely, that many people are living alone (as she is). The bulk of these people are either divorced or had broken up with previous relationships or like herself, a widow. According to Dolly, theis loneliness is exceptionally high. Immediately afterwards I ran into Gautur, Iceland’s chief sýslamaður, equivalent to sheriff. He’s a very congenial fellow who goes around knocking on doors of people who own money and taxes; not little folk but big-timers. Often Gautur brings what he calls two “muscle men” in case he runs into trouble.

On the news yesterday I caught a glimpse of the Pope talking about Iraq. I don’t recall his exact words, but they were very much to the point, about that country being a disaster. I believe he implied the American intervention which, as I continue to talk with people here, gets more depressing.

I continue to have problems posting entries on my home computer, don’t know why, because no problem with others. Hence this larger entry is posted from work today.

Today promises to be a fine one, weather-wise.

Holy Saturday. I spent a fine afternoon riding about Westman Island, the weather being just right for it, barely a breeze. Now that’s highly unusual for an island in the North Atlantic. This place never ceases to amaze me, another instance when I wish to have a Thoreauvian gift of description. Still, that’s fine; what counts is that I enjoyed the day. Since I was out and about by myself, I could feel the place more than on other occasions. Wind is not unlike a person with you, busy by its presence, so the next-to-calm conditions of Friday were special. I walked around the larva flow of 1973, dark red and black rocks twisted this way and that. Walking on the stuff is tricky, both sharp and very grainy which makes for poor footing. At the head of that flow was the new volcano barely 2 kilometers away next to its twin, Heligfjall. If the larva kept on going, it would have sealed the harbor, but they sprayed ocean water onto it to redirect the flow. By the way, two mountains falling into the sea at the harbor have huge grottos in which boats can park. Westman was also the home of Keiko the killer whale.

When the sky and sea is expansive as on that afternoon, I could feel a connection between what lay beneath my feet and on the surface…one of those unique occasions of connectivity in a unique place. As for Westman itself, the island proper is called Heimay; Westman stands for a group of some 13 islands, the newest being Surtsey, formed at or around the ’73 blast. Its mountains (if you could call them that) are unique: giant globs of ice cream or even a piece of cake with very sharp and high cliffs. They’re just plunked down next to each other, some being connected by razor-shape ridges about 300 meters high. I.e., Heimay sure isn’t flat which gives it a special character. At the other end is where the 12-14 million puffins live, but they’re all out at sea. So between the downtown area (so to speak) and the puffins, the distance is approximately 6K, but the terrain is hilly. When you approach the summit of Storhöfði, another cake-like mountain at the other end, you get incredible views of more large cake-like islands scattered around. The serpentine road leading up there averages 16% gradient with sharp cliffs falling off to one side…not for the faint-hearted.

By reason of being an island, Westman is a small community, extremely wealthy for its size of just under 4,000. Everyone has a car (or two) and drives everywhere, even two houses away. Later in the day I prepared lemon meringue pies for about 9 people with the family I know. Today is rainy and windy (what else?) but will get out and about later. I plan to do some computer work by myself. Though circumstances precluded attendance at Triduum celebrations, I set aside ample time to recall the events signified. In many ways this religion-less commemoration was unforgettable. It makes you realize that despite the importance of such events, essentially they’re built upon memories set down in various ways of retention. First by mouth, then by scribe, book, recording, typewriter and finally computer. I wonder if the increasingly sophisticated methods of recording the past will effect the people doing this. Somehow I don’t think so, that is, in and by itself.

When I arrived on Westman, all flags were half-mast. Turns out it is the law to do so on Long Friday and must be kept this way through evening of Holy Saturday.

One quick note: I´ve been having trouble inserting entries from my home computer, reminiscent of the past, but fine on others. Therefore I may not post an entry until Monday but will have info between now and then.

April 5, Holy Thursday. A spectacular day, at least as I write this around 9am. After doing some shopping when Bonus opens at noon, I’m off to the Hengill area to which I had driven about a month ago and skirted en route home from Skalholt last Saturday. Good weather can be a rarity in Iceland, so carpem diem.

Yesterday was the last day of work until Monday when I return for volunteer work, skeleton crew, 11-5. There was a festive atmosphere, pretty much relaxed, quite different from Christmas. By that I mean more relaxed, Christmas being the busiest time. Easter comes in second, though clearly not as hectic. I was expecting the typical last minute rush for which Icelanders are famous, but it didn’t occur, i.e., their chocolate Easter eggs. People knew that yesterday was the cut-off date for overseas, so the rush was beforehand. At the post there is a sub-department called SAL which handles surface mail, and I oversea this area. Each day certain countries receive SAL mail, but yesterday my boss asked that all SAL (and this includes mis-sent packages) from Wednesday through Sunday be sent out en masse. Fortunately there wasn’t as much, for not infrequently we handle bulk mail. I asked two assistances to handle the SAL which they dispatched quickly.

As for Easter eggs, some people were chosen randomly to find them in their work area. Hints were given out as to their location and the results were posted later in the day. Unfortunately our department wasn’t chosen, but everyone had lots of fun.

At the post the countries with which Iceland deals most have their own boxes for packages and letters. That includes major European countries, the US and Canada as well as Greenland and Faeroe Island. Then there’s a catch-all section called Transit processed through Copenhagen. Since Iceland has opened up recently to European Union workers—theoretically that means citizens of Union countries can work here with minor problems—a lot of Poles have come in. Most work in fish plants and the three aluminum smelters. They haven’t assimilated as well as expected, and many are here temporarily, sending money back home. At the post we joke on occasion that Poland should have its own department, not under Transit, because of the high volume of mail to and fro.

April 6th, Long Friday as it is called here. I’ve been having more problems posting entries from my own computer but can on someone else’s, hence I couldn’t do yesterday’s. Anyway, I drove out to Hengill, 2nd time I was there, simply to get out and enjoy the fine weather. I walked around on a flat area overlooking the geothermal plant with various boreholes spread out. Even before I came in sight of it, I picked up that tell-tale odor of sulphur, quite common in Iceland. The whole complex looked like some futuristic colony on the moon. Certainly people must be running it, but I saw no cars nor workers walking about. There was barely a breeze which gives a feel of silence like no other. After about 20 minutes a bus load of people pulled up and walked around, quickly destroying the atmosphere. I also had that experience on the drive out when I pulled over to take in the views. At the first stop a pulled up not even 2 minutes afterwards and disgorged 5 people chattering away merrily. The lesson? Very difficult to be alone, even in a remote area as Hengill. Sometimes when you’re out in an isolated area and see a person walking far off that’s enough to detract from the experience or at least to modify it.

Today looks like it’ll be another fine one. At 11am I drive to Þorlakshafn to take the ferry to Westman Island, having been invited by a family for the Easter weekend. That means I’ll be on a boat between noon and 3pm, traditional time to observe Christ’s sufferings. I look forward to that experience, different for this Good Friday, even though I’ve made the trip a number of times.

Right now I’m on the ferry (Herjolfur), sitting up front. While coming down the mountain pass leading to Þorlakshafn I could see Westman off on the horizon in a cloud bank; heard it’s foggy there with snow earlier. Although getting there by boat takes half the day, I’ve gotten into a rhythm: take a nap half the trip and compute on the other. Flying to Westman is always a tricky proposition: while the flight is only 25 minutes, there’s always the weather. Chances are better from Reykjavik as opposed from Westman. Although I’ve flown there once, after all, it’s an island. Like the Hotel California, you can always check in but never check out. No one could tell the difference between this sacred time and any other. In fact, I doubt that anyone on board (let alone most Icelanders) would realize what today is about. Sure, they know it’s Long Friday, a holiday, but that’s it. This is an interesting experience, knowing what these three hours are about while surrounded by ferry passengers completely oblivious of the fact. For example, as I write this, on the other side are about 15 youngish India-looking people chattering away. While they’re relatively quiet, I must sit here for the duration of the trip in their company. That means I have to create my own Long Friday space. While less than desirable, it is in the process of forming memories for future access. For example, chances are 100% that next Long Friday I’ll be in church and while there, be recalling the experience.

As for the Catholic tradition of fasting on Long Friday and of eating fish, there’s no excuse in Iceland for resorting to meat! Fish is everywhere and boy, is terrific.

Wednesday in Holy Week. Today is the last day of work at the post until Tuesday. However, I volunteered to work on Monday, 2 ½ overtime. Why not? It’s been rather hectic the past 10 days or so because of Easter. Icelanders love sending out Easter eggs, so it’s a kind of mini-Christmas rush. I’ve been luck to have been on the morning shift the past five days but today will be the afternoon shift until 10.30pm. Both shifts have advantages. The morning in that you get out at 3pm and have a good chunk of the afternoon to yourself. The afternoon in that I’m fresh to do personal work in the morning and have a goal or closing in the evening. There’s always some tension to get it done right, because the next day flights might be disrupted. The computer program we use is rather complicated but like anything else of this sort, boils down to knowing the sequence. After that it flows easily. Then for a while there were occasional problems, chief of which is the dreaded “white screen” which shows data for given country hasn’t been filed properly. For some time that was intimidating because I could consult only a handful of people. Now I know how to correct mistakes which makes the job flow easily.

There was an on-again off-again situation about Easter. At first I was invited (and planned) on Westman Island, but that family was having a lot of people over. Then most cancelled for one reason or another, so I’m on again. They asked me to make lemon meringue pies for dessert, so will oblige gladly. As for Icelandic cooking, I recall that during earlier visits (my first was ’76) they just tossed everything into a pot and boiled it, pretty much like the Irish, no care nor preparation. Surprisingly with all their sophistication, Icelanders took a long time to shed this habit but can now hold their own with any other cuisine. Fish here is about the best in the world. I recall many instances where really fine pieces were just boiled to death, completely destroying the flavor. Still, I know quite a few older people and some middle-aged ones who just boil stuff. I might add that small, native potatoes are a favorite; quite good but get tired of them being served all the time, again, Irish-like.

Tuesday of Holy Week. There are plenty of Triduum celebrations planned in the Lutheran Church; might check out several, depending on my schedule, etc. However, the weather is supposed to deteriorate but heck, this is Iceland.

“And the sojourners who lived among them” [Josh 9.35]. Words similar to Rahab in 6.25 where the preposition betok is used, in the midst in the sense of being in the heart of something or a people.

Often in the mornings or sometimes in the evening I listen to the AA broadcast, Americans who’ve visited Iceland or taped in the US. The quality is exceptional plus introduced me to the basic tenets of this program which had been unfamiliar to me. Virtually every speaker stresses reliance on a “higher power,” a famous phrase of AA which obviously means God but without specific religious affiliation. Those who’ve hit bottom as far as drinking goes start their ascent when discovering this higher power. It also struck me that most of us balk at this reliance, and its historic ramifications are well known, so much so that we don’t consider it more closely. Everything around us says no to it yet at the same time we’re drawn irresistibly towards it. I also situate this phenomenon within Icelandic culture, quite secular, but of a very different type than elsewhere. By that I mean my frequent references to the incredible simplicity of Icelanders regardless of age, education and other conditions. Foreigners pick this up but perhaps don’t fathom it as closely as they should, for it’d make all the difference to their visit, either briefly or for a longer period.

Palm Sunday. Yesterday afternoon I drove to Skalholt, about 1 ½ hr northeast of Reykjavik, the spiritual center of Iceland by reason of being the birthplace of Christianity. I’ve been to this place many times before, the last being in September. Everyone so often the Lutheran Church has retreat weekends in Skalholt which has accommodations for about 20 persons. Sr Jakob Hjalmarsson, a good friend, invited me so I took it up at once; figure it’s a good time just before Palm Sunday, etc. En route I hit considerable rain which relented somewhat as I drew near at 6 pm. However, it continued throughout most of today though the temp is fairly warm, about 7C. I should note that Skalholt has a dining room which puts out truly fist class meals, surprising for the middle of nowhere! I should note that Icelanders, restaurants or otherwise, serve cold water with meals. Water here is so pure that it’s almost a treat. On Friday evening we had Vespers, a talk and then Compline around 9pm, very nice, with about 10 people. Afterwards I walked around a bit under clearing skies with a full moon peeping through and heard what I thought were dogs in the distance. I asked someone who said they were swans, newly migrated from Scotland. They weren’t just your run-of-the-mill swans but huge beasts. In this part of Iceland orange-yellow glows are visible here and there on the landscape: not just settlements but geothermally heated greenhouses, quite a few I might add. Even at night my experiences of being in the Icelandic countryside never produced fear which I attribute in part to the lack of trees. Besides, there is that sense of being watched over which I noted before but watched in a protective way despite several active volcanoes and geysers nearby. As for geysers, just up the road is Geysir, the place after which they are named.

When in a famous though isolated spot such as Skalholt you realize more fully that memories retained by society keep it alive. If, for example, people forgot about Skalholt, quickly it’d degenerate into a heap of ruins and be just another hill like so many in the neighborhood. Because Skalholt was important re. Christianity, the church has ample diagrams, etc, of it. In other words, church related stuff which seems almost as alien as prehistoric artifacts.

I had a couple of good discussions with Kristjan who lives at Skalholt and twice a week commutes to the University of Iceland in Reykjavik. He teaches Hebrew and knew of me through Gunni whom I coached this past week for an exam. Kristjan informed me that in recent years sociologists have been studying the phenomenon of sacred space, an interest which had been gaining wider ground. It struck me as somewhat odd that it should come from this quarter, so will try to find out more info. I was also struck by the fact that this sense of sacred space was a commonplace experience in the past or better and that despite advances in technology and the rest, discovering old truths is as if they’ve never been known before. In many ways they are approached in a naïve sort of way. As for sacred space, currently I’m jotting down ideas about how people live fractured lives, Iceland or any other place. Part of this comes from not appreciating the meaning of a sacred space or better, not having the slightest clue of what it means. Despite this, people seem to have an inbuilt desire for the sacred.

Although Skalholt is the spiritual center of Iceland (founded in 1052), I’ve noticed that the Lutheranism had pretty much have cut out the idea of the sacred (space). Despite their goodwill and sincerity, Lutherans lack this essential ingredient. More specifically, it’s present though diminished; for example, churches are more like glorified meeting halls. I continue to marvel at what Luther had wrought, and the effects are still with us. His intent of reform may have been noble, but we ended up with an emasculated form of Christianity. Of course, the Catholic Church at the time was less than admirable but upon hindsight, not worth the pain of separation. Iceland is different from other so-called Lutheran countries in that Catholicism remains dear to the people, and you don’t have that cold, isolated distance with respect to God. I’ve noted this earlier, some of it being due to the heavy Celtic (Irish) heritage. Often I can sense people groping about, albeit unconsciously, for their Catholicism. How, when and if it will emerge is anyone’s guess.

I write this mid afternoon on Saturday; could have stayed overnight but desired to return this evening. The Iceland post, all departments, is having a bowling tournament with free eats and beer, so can’t miss that!

Last evening the town of Hafnarfjöður which borders Reykjavik had an important vote. Within the town is a large aluminum processing plant which cranks out some 146,000 tons a year. The company has been pushing to enlarge so as to produce over 460,000 tons. As of 11 pm last evening the vote was virtually tied, under 100, which might mean a recount.