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.