Ring Road Day 3: Mývatn, to Húsavík

Brace yourselves, folks, this day is gonna be one of the most busy travels days we'll be having.

Stopping for a moment on Route 1 on the way to Mývatn, we took a break at Ljósavatn, a lake-filled area punctuated by one farm and one lone church in the wilderness. The church was built by an architect that I met at a party! He gave us excellent recommendations of sight-seeing places along our trip, including Ljósavatn. His church features a beautiful wall of windows behind the altar, so there is nothing to separate the congregation from nature. Quite beautiful.

Nearby was Goðafoss, a small but beautiful waterfall.


We arrived at Lake Mývatn and its surrounding countryside. I have been wanting to see Mývatn for several years; many of you might remember my orchestral thesis by the same name, which tried to imagine the sounds of birds, bugs, water, and volcanic eruptions in this area. I had only imagined what it would be like. I was delighted to be able to play my piece on my headphones while looking at the lake, and I think it was a good complement (and compliment) to the landscape if I do say so myself.

Mývatn is sort of a place like no other on Earth, where within the scope of just a mile or two there are landscapes ranging from New England-like trees (such beautiful and unexpected autumn colors!) and forested nature paths, to lava formations, hot springs, geothermal power plants, and separating tectonic plates. "Travel between North America and Europe in thirty seconds! Just don't fall into a mud pit and be boiled alive", the brochures should say.

We stopped next at Dimmuborgir, a lava field of unusual rock formations and home to the Yule Lads, Elf-like Troll dudes who (so the story goes) hide/live in the rocks until Christmas, when they appear one by one to parade around the country for the holidays. That's another story I'm sure I'll discuss at another time.

We drove right around the bend of Dimmuborgir and arrived at Bjarnarflag, a hotbed of geothermal vents and human-made attempts (sometimes successful, sometimes not) to capture the geothermal energy trapped beneath the ground by essentially plopping a power plant on top. We spend some time nerding around here, recording the steam sounds and photographing a million different Mars-like hills. Don't get too close, light-colored soil is a sign of something cooking underfoot and the ground could give way under you.


Bjarnarflag is also the site of a former algae plant which captured little particles for use in toothpaste, fertilizers, etc. But now, it's just a scary, otherworldly lake, dangerous, probably toxic, and totally jaw-dropping. There are several pipes of runoff water which shoot into the lake violently, half-boiling and half just making a scary ruckus.


I've never really been to a place before that felt physically like this-it really gave me a sense of real potential danger, I was frankly a little scared but also exhilarated. The ground rattles at some places with the force of steam coming out of the ground.

Even the puddles have a strange glow from minerals in the soil. This is the Earth at work! It's not humans that somehow f-ed up the ground here (well, except for that fake Blue Lagoon), it's Nature just doing its millenia-long thing. This hot steaming waterfall here, this sizzling pile of rocks there- it's happening, for realz, no DisneyHollywoodification about it.

On to something more relaxed: a safe version of the toxic lake we just visited. The Mývatn Nature Baths (Jarðböðin). Like it's big brother the Blue Lagoon near Keflavík Airport, this swimming pool was a delight after a windy day and a great place to swim in the mineral-rich lagoon. I naïvely expected the ground underfoot to be white, like the bluish-white waters. But it's black lava sands (silly me).


We drove to Húsavík to spend the night, which was a much shorter drive than expected, through barren fields and cracking tubes of lava that looked like giant black loaves of bread. We spent the night in an older couple's guest house, and the owner only spoke Icelandic with us. We were essentially sleeping in his children's old bedrooms, and we felt a little awkward using his kitchen while he and his wife watched TV (and might I add, sang along to the TV too, our karaoke-like hits of the night included 'Hava Nagila' and Rihanna's 'Please Don't Stop the Music').

But even with dealing with the town's overwhelming fish smell and disappointment that the Phallological Museum was closed, Húsavík was charming. And with art like this on the walls, how could you resist a cozy stay here? Cross-stitched Fishermen for Everyone.

Alþingi protests

We interrupt this pastoral trip to bring you a sound sample of what's happening in downtown Reykjavík tonight. Thousands of people are protesting around the Parliament building (also known as Alþingi or the Althing), which began the year's new sessions today. The sound of the protestors is wild, like Björk's 'Earth Intruders', but this time it's kitchen percussion, barrels, firecrackers, vuvuzelas, and a country full of residents who are at wit's end about the failure of their government to help them out of economic crisis. Protests are likely to go through the night until morning (no fun for guests at the adjacent glamorous Hotel Borg).


I am only beginning to put the pieces together about Iceland's government, economy, and the many viewpoints of its citizens, so I don't feel like a voice of authority of what's really happening. I do know that Parliament is currently covered in eggs, red paint, and the police have put a barrier in front of the building. I also know that the people are angry at the government's inaction to help its own citizens after Iceland's economic collapse; individuals who were responsible for the failure of banks have not been punished; meanwhile, average citizens are having homes repossessed and losing their life savings because their mortgages and loan rates are too much to afford. Drastic changes in laws, leaders, and ruling political parties may be happening soon.

More information here and here (both in English).

I felt an unease at going to the protest; I'm not an Icelander but I want to understand what's happening and see how things work here. I wasn't sure what to do, being a Fulbright and all as an 'ambassador' to a particular country. I'm glad I brought my recorder, it felt like the right thing to do to capture the sounds. As luck would have it, as I was walking away from the protest, I ran into the Fulbright adviser! She said, 'Nathan! It's so good to see you here! I should have told you about it earlier but it looks like you already knew about it. I was just protesting, and now it's time for a hot dog.' Looks like I'm in the clear.

Ring Road Day 2: Stykkishólmur, and on to Akureyri

The morning of our second day on the trip, Nicole set up an appointment for us to visit Roni Horn's sculpture/building/installation Vatnasafn, or Library of Water. Housed in the old Library at Stykkishólmur, Roni turned the building into a community meeting space which primarily houses 24 tubes of water taken from glaciers around Iceland, a floor covered in words about weather and volcanic ash/rubber tile; and a collection of Horn's work in a small gallery-style space.

There are also chess tables and an open space for small concerts, lectures, or film screenings. The space was beautiful- it overlooks the harbor, and the columns of glacier water are fun to photograph. The tiles were sort of gassing off this smell of rubber and volcano, so we didn't want to overstay our visit, but we did have a long chat about the history of the space and the town with Sigurður.

He showed us the space and filled us in on local politics, and let us know that he also works at the volcano museum, he helped build the modern church in the town (photo below), and that he also runs the town's newspaper!

After looking out at the contemporary church, I couldn't help but be magnetically pulled to it. Thankfully this church was open, and it was amazing inside and out! The ceiling is lit by hundreds of single bare lightbulbs, and there is this incredibly strange and delightful painting on the altar of a Madonna and Child. But look closely, and you realize that Mary and Babe are floating over a landscape of lava and volcanic terrain. How appropriate!

I did play piano in here, there was a beautiful Steinway and it would be really fun to come back and give a concert.

Then we drove...and drove some more...there are mostly fields and farms in this area (and rainbows), but on the way we stopped at a réttir, or sheep roundup! It's that time of the year.

The sheep here pretty much roam free, but their ears are tagged. Then farmers and townspeople are recruited to go get the sheep, they bring them to a pen like this (or some are circular, as you may see in pictures later in the week) and put all the sheep in the middle. Then the sheep are sorted and put in side pens depending on whose they are! I hope the locals didn't mind that we took pictures of all the animals. And by animals I mean these kids playing in the dirt.

Thanks to a suggestion by an architect colleague, we stopped at Viðimiri Church, which was built in 1834. It was also closed, but it had a fabulous exterior of wood, sod, and colorfully-painted ornaments with a green fence surrounding.

We arrived in Akureyri, the 'Capital of the North' of Iceland with a whopping 17,000 people. It took has a modern church (pictured) and a great new circular city hall (at least I think that's what it was).

It's still a 'town' by U.S. standards, but after all those farms and fields on the drive today, Akureyri feels like a metropolis. There are bars! Fancy clothes. Angsty teens. Thai food! We ate some for dinner, and went for a post-prandial cocktail at this funky place with hammered metal tables, woven basket lamps, and cow hides on the walls.

Devon said that if we were to write a review for Akureyri, it would be for the Hostelling International (HI) and it would be a very glowing one. That place is nicer than some hotels I've stayed in! Sinks in every room. A veranda overlooking trees to eat your morning cereal while you use free wireless. And friendly staff too. Bravo. Day 3 coming up ahead.

Ring Road Trip Day 1: Snæfellsness

And we're off! Nicole, Devon, and I are travelling Iceland's Ring Road for a week. The Ring Road, aka Route 1 aka Hringinn, is the main highway that encircles the entire country of Iceland, which makes for convenient stops to many of the country's most beautiful places. Route 1 is a multiple-lane highway in Reykjavík, but soon after leaving the city, it is basically a two-way road with singe-lane bridges, and some of it is still gravel. We leave Reykjavík and head for Snæfellsness peninsula, with a few recommendations of things to see, places to visit, and places to stay, but we have only a basic itinerary and leave much of the day's schedules up to chance. Nicole has a fancy camera, I have a digital recorder and a new guidebook, and Devon is our trusty driver, being the only one of us able to drive a 4x4 stick shift. Thank goodness he didn't break his leg on the trip or we'd have been stranded, learning to drive a manual over some lava formations or crashing into some glacier.

I think the best way to narrate the trip is to go day by day, so you'll get a new post for each day of the excursion. Here is Day 1.

We stopped along the way at Bjarnafoss, the first of innumerable immensely beautiful waterfalls. I took a recording of the runoff and began a small obsession with water sounds during the whole week's trip.

We passed through much of the nearby sights to get to the town of Olafsvík. Not much to see here, really. Hate to break it to you, but Olafsvík smells a lot like fish, there isn't much to see or do, especially in the winter season when tourism dies down (and we are travelling alone on the highway much of the time, not seeing a soul), one bakery, one pizza place and one place called the 'Hobbitinn'. There is a nice modern church there, though. Sadly it was locked, no peeping inside to be had.

Thanking the four-wheel-drive every kilometer, we drove through Snæfellsjökull National Park and I saw some of the first jaw-dropping landscapes of the week. I should also say that I was also impressed by what we couldn't see–the fog near the glacier was so intense that much of the drive felt like driving on another planet.


We did stop to take a few pictures in a mossy-covered area, and we looked for the glacier but it remained elusive. Not surprising either, seeing how it is small to begin with and is shrinking at an alarming rate, and may be totally gone within 10 years.

We drove down the mountain and stopped at a parking area with a picnic bench. Little did I realize that this spot would be one of the best places I visited on my trip-Sönghellir, or 'Singing Cave'! You can crawl under this overhangy rock and stick your head in the pitch-black darkness, and once you get over being in a dark cave and peeing your pants a little bit you realize that the acoustics in the space have a beautiful 3-second or so resonance. I could sing and make chords with my own voice! Naturally we recorded a little improvisation of singing tones inside, so we'll see if I can make some use of it. The info board by the side of the road was priceless, it read something like: "Legend has it that some old Saga character lived in the cave, when at the time many people were afraid of the cave because you could hear 'dwarf-speak' (also known as 'echoes'.) But so-and-so Viking guy didn't mind the dwarf-speak, because he was raised by dwarves." Good for him, combating racism in the tenth century.

Continuing on, we stopped at a small town called Arnarstappi as I saw a cool-looking monument made by the artist Ragnar Kjartansson.

But surprise, the town had something up its sleeve: a walkway out to stunningly dramatic cliffs and rock formations on the coast!

Arnarstappi has a short walking path (or an even shorter drive) to the neighboring village, where the coasts were even more up close and personal. The rocks here on the shore get worn down smaller and smaller, but don't turn to sand- they stay like pebbles and crackle and clack together as the tide goes in and out. What a surprising sound to hear. And another surprise was waiting for us when a small café appeared out of nowhere, sheltered on the mountainside. And it was open! It was probably an old fishing house at one point, but the interior was now charming and intimate. The hot cocoa was amazing.

Back in the car, we drove along the south of Snæfells peninsula to arrive at our dinner location extraordinaire- Hotel Buðir. I was told by a couple colleagues that if there was one time to splurge on a meal during my trip this would be it. And coincidentally, it was my birthday, so I had extra excuses to celebrate. The meal did not disappoint. The restaurant is tucked in an old Hotel, and is probably one of the most elegant and fancy meals in the whole country. The hotel is also next to an old church, which had a brief role in the film 101 Reykjavík.

I had puffin as an appetizer! Twas my first crazy Icelandic specialty food, which tasted like a smoky, chewy steak. It was definitely not what I was expecting, but I can check that off the list (next up: whale meat). The main course was a trout entreé featuring potatoes, greens, and 'cilantro ash'- a literal experiment on volcanic food. It was incredible, probably the best fish I've ever eaten, as it was the ultimate in Local food (caught outside, about 100 yards away in a boat in the sea) and Fresh (caught about a couple hours before it's in my stomach). The restaurant even made a very fancy vegetarian entreé for D.

There was no one else in the whole place until we were ready to leave, so we had our waiter all to ourselves. Such is the off-season in Iceland, I suppose; the tourists fade away and I can eat my cute wild birds in peace.


Ending our meal, we drove to Stykkishólmur to spend the night in a hostel, and wait patiently until our appointment tomorrow at Vatnasafn, artist Roni Horn's installation/building 'Library of Water'. More to come!

Hvalfjörður, Hraunfossar, Reykholt

One of the friendly folks in the choir I now sing in invited me to a spur-of-the-moment day trip around the countryside around Reykjavík. It was almost like a 'dry-run' to the week-long trip I'll be taking at the end of this week around the country, and only really going an hour and some out of the city. I'm glad I brought snacks, just for the novelty of eating an apple while looking at a glacier. The normal sights for tourists in this area are usually found on the Golden Circle, but this was like the "Silver Circle", and nearly devoid of tourists so it felt like we had the whole country to ourselves!

It's really amazing how many amazing sights and landscapes can be found within a short driving distance. Elisa, my soprano-voiced tour guide took me first around Hvalfjörður ('whale fjord') and we looked at an aluminum smelting plant, along with the bay that Americans would hide/store submarines during WWII, building bunkers containing unknown items. The Americans left a few years ago and now the bunkers are overgrown, but the fences remain. We Americans do love putting fences around anything and everything.

We passed a waterfall called Fossárrétt first and I had to stop and record its sound, you could get up very close to it. True to its name (something like 'sheep-rounding-up-waterfall') there are stones piled into room-like arrangements that sheep could be corralled into, though they might not currently use it for that purpose. Also in this little valley were beautiful grasses, blowing gently in the breeze. It was warm enough that it felt like a New England fall day.

Onto Borgarnes for lunch, a town on the coast of Iceland. We saw a Viking burial mound and checked out ('chuck' out? why isn't that a past tense) the coffeehouse situation here, which is situated beautifully on a shallow harbor. The water must be less than a foot deep, going out for a quarter mile you could still only have water up to your knees.

Driving a short distance, we ended up at one of the 'major' sights of the day, two waterfalls right next to one another: Hraunfossar and Barnafoss. Hraunfossar is of particular note as there is no river on the top of the earth that dumps over a cliff, like most waterfalls. This one comes straight out of the middle of the cliff! The whole mountain is basically a lava flow, and there are rivulets and underground streams buried in the rock; the water exits here into a real 'river'. There are small trees, berrybushes and plants hanging on for dear life to the sides of the rocks here, having carved up some shallow soil for themselves. And being a near fall-like day, the leaves were beginning to turn. Here in Iceland they don't get as dramatic as say, Massachusetts, but usually turn yellow and quickly fall. Still, it's a nice seasonal change and lends for quite pretty pictures.

Smack dab next to Hraunfossar is Barnafoss, or 'Children's waterfall', named because of a supposed folk tale. Legend has it there used to be a land bridge over the raging water here, and two children walked across it, having wandered away from their family one night; the landbridge fell and the children were never seen again. There is still a landbridge of sorts at the bottom of the rapids, but I'm sure the water will slowly carve its way through this one too. Total pāhoehoe here, by the way, for all you geology nerds, lots and lots of folded lava, with some rock piles marking the walking trails.

There was still more to see! Elisa stopped at Deitartunguhver, which is Europe's largest hot spring! You can see the steam from a distance and you know some geothermal action is at work. I'm still impressed at the fact that you can walk right up to a hot spring and look at boiling water being shot out of the ground of its own accord. I have a small fear that I am going to step on a fragile part of the earth and break through to something horrible below. But here it looked pleasantly safe, you can walk up to a little boardwalk thing and take photos, feel the steam, just you know, don't touch the 212-degree Fahrenheit water gushing out around 150 liters per second. Actually, that probably happens elsewhere, the hot springs that visitors see seem like offshoots of a main spring, which is tapped into with lots of pipes and a power-plant-type building, and carried off in large pipes to nearby towns. But what does come out is still intimidating.

We were nearing an old settlement of Iceland called Reykholt. Famous for being a site that Snorri Sturluson (writer and documentor of much of Iceland's historical texts) possibly bathed in, the landscape in the area is a giant archaeological paradise. There is an old church on-site, and a big new church, both beautiful in different ways. But the best part of this church was its harmonium! It looked very Victorian. And the colors of those walls, well, that will cheer up a dull grey winter day.

Quick stop in Húsafell, a 'forest' of sorts, a popular campsite for Icelanders, and views of two glaciers in the distance. Currently holding the Award for Best-Named Glacier: 'Ok'. Pronounced more like 'Awk' or 'Euch' and not like 'Okay'.

Our final stop on the way back around Hvalfjörður was to spontaneously say hi to some horses by the side of the road. I'm sorry, 'horsies'. Elisa said that they'd probably be friendly horses and think that we were bringing food (which we didn't have any, but we were indeed friendly) so I got to pet them. The Icelandic horse is much more my size and speed. Here is a horse that isn't twice my height, but still seems quite regal. The sun was low in the sky (as it is all the time here) but it lent itself to a very romantic light, watching these guys prance (I'm sorry, tölt, as these horses have five gaits as opposed to most horses normal three) and cavort around in the autumn sun. I too am enjoying the warm days while I can!

Bears on Ice, field recordings, buying pillows.

This weekend was my first 'Icelandic weekend', which I of course could not even make it through without naps, going to bed earlier than most people, and having a rollercoaster of emotions. It's been over two weeks now since I've been here so some things are beginning to feel familiar (buying milk, going swimming), and then other things are still very new, like going out to eat or shop somewhere new each time and not knowing what to expect, or trying to catch a bus to a new destination.
I did go to an organized event this weekend, which was mostly for visiting tourists, but it did include several night parties at local bars and clubs so I had a good excuse to go out and be social, and see the gay spots. The gay scene here is so well-intergrated into culture that nowhere is particularly exclusively gay, but there are currently two gay-ish bars in the city that hosted the weekend's festivities. Did I mention the event was called Bears on Ice? It was pretty amazing. I didn't do the tourist stuff during the day like many of the other guests, as I'm sure I'll have many chances to do that this year. Still, it was a great chance to be surrounded by so many great beards and friendly gays. I did end up meeting a couple locals and worldly travellers; I went dancing, out for drinks and ate a delicious brunch; I got to stay out late and watch girls just beginning to go out on the town at 4:30am, when I was ready to come home. I also learned the term 'Disco Nap', which I will be taking frequently when I need a little pick-me-up before the night begins.

I attempted some actual 'work work' the other day and took my digital recorder out to record some water features and bird noises, thinking I'd get some field recordings as tests of outdoor sounds before I go on a weeklong trip around the country soon. Well, silly me. Not only was it too windy, it also started raining. So my recordings consist of rain noises with about a half-second good bird-squawk, but basically 98% unusable wind corruption. Lessons learned: timing is everything, construct a really good windscreen, and store the recorder in a watertight container. Or make a piece entirely consisting of wind sounds, I suppose.

Here is a boring story! Once I recovered from the weekend, I decided that it was time to get a real-boy pillow and upgrade from the borrowed one I've currently been sleeping on. I will also want a second pillow for any guests that might come to visit! Well, I'm trying to plan ahead for meeting my still-undiscovered Icelandic Husband To Be, but this also means you! Hótel Midnight Shoveler is open for guests, and I can't wait to be a good host for visitors. Inconveniently, there is no store in the downtown area that sells pillows. Or if there is, it is going to be a fancy pillow for your fancy mod chaise lounge. I successfully made it out to another part of town to find the discount home stuff store, or Rúmfatalagerinn. Despite being a hike from the bus station, you do get to walk through a park that borders the 'botanical gardens' and 'zoo' on the way. Rúmfatalagerinn was across the street from Hagkaup, which is Iceland's answer to a Walmart, so I also got cheap socks and a teeshirt, cheap writing paper, some lunch, a pen, and a CD. One-stop shopping. Then I had to lug back two pillows and everything else on the bus, and I looked like THAT GUY. Whatever. Bottom line is, now I have seasonings, two clean pillows with pillowcases, and you will be able to come visit for a good sleep and a well-seasoned fish dinner.

Rainbow, Perlan, Korpúlfsstaðir

I saw two rainbows today! One was right as I looked out my window this morning. The other was a tiny rainbow in the clouds at Korpúlfsstaðir (more on that later) but it was a beautiful day to be outside so I spent a lot of time gawking at the scenery.
Perlan is a funny thing in Reykjavík, it is a structure that houses giant water tanks for the public water in the city, but conveniently it also has a great museum, a cafe, a lookout deck, and a fancy revolving restaurant inside of it (hence the name Perlan or 'The Pearl', for it's shiny glass dome). It's also next to a beautiful forest which leads to the geothermal beach in the city (only open in the summer season). I walked to Perlan recently, which I don't recommend when it might suddenly downpour on you and the weather report said nothing about torrents. Wah-wah. There are only highways and trees in between my apartment and Perlan, so I was an unhappy camper until I dried out a little. Luckily the views after the rain were beautiful and crystal clear, and the air around the city is so clean you can often see for miles. I suppose that's what also makes it great weather for rainbows, as it rains/mists a little bit almost every day.

On another recent afternoon excursion, I visited Nicole, another Fulbright artist, at her temporary digs at Korpúlfsstaðir. You can take one bus there from Reykjavík, and you don't have to transfer but the ride is about 45 minutes and you definitely feel like you're in a totally different place than downtown Reykjavík. The 'town' there is more like a suburb, with chain stores and strip malls nearby, but Korpúlfsstaðir itself is an old dairy farm, now converted into a gold course and putting green. And in true Icelandic style, the same golf course building also has a repurposed section in it for artists' studios and artist housing! I walked around the golf course a bit (on walking trails, heaven forbid I touch the greens) before dinnertime, and took a couple shots of the first landscapes I've seen here that are fairly uninhabited and treeless. And we're not even really outside the city limits yet! You just wait a few days as I'm planning a trip around the country, which I am so much looking forward to. Some amazing images cometh.

Atli Heimir, National Museum, First Choir Practice

As if to combat the frustration of a couple days' prior, today was wonderful. I called a composer I had long-since admired, and he invited me to his house for breakfast! Atli Heimir Sveinsson is a well-known (and loved) Icelandic composer with an outstanding record in meeting other famous composers (see the wiki page for the star-studded list). He also writes some kick-ass music that can turn on a stylistic dime in an instant, from neo-romantic to brash noise textures, from lilting folk-tune to rock-and roll. I heard his 'Symphony Number 2' in 2006, and it has stayed with me ever since. He's currently working on Symphony #7, though funny enough, Symphony #5 never got a premier as he was making edits to the piece. In any case, he's still writing some amazing works including lieder in English, Icelandic, and German, and has several albums out. We discussed my plans in Iceland, and he gave me some gems of ideas to think about which might inspire music compositions (Surtsey being one of them). He shared some of his own stories of compositions and composers past, including going to Germany to meet Stockhausen, and then realizing there was another (mostly forgotten) composer who wrote like Stockhausen but 'did it better'. But then Atli ended up studying piano and counterpoint and history first instead, so his time to be an avant-garde musician took a short rest.

He and his wife also talked about a change in the way of thinking for Icelanders after the financial crash; they seem to notice that people are less obsessed with money now, and if someone does have money, you wonder where the hell they got it 'cause nobody else doth hef it. Also, there may be more of a focus on more important things, or a growing interest in things like social events (knitting, music, travelling) and self-improvement, rather than just Keeping Up with the Jóneses, or who has the latest and greatest flat-screen TV or their third car in the driveway.

Also, breakfast included herring on buttered bread. Among lots of other things. But scratch 'herring' off the list of fish I haven't eaten yet.

I took a short walk from breakfast to the National Museum of Iceland, which had their free admission day today. This museum is the best one I've seen here! The exhibits are huge and it would be well worth the normal admission price. On one floor alone they have amazing artifacts from Viking age, early soil samples, early Christianity artifacts, Black Death talismans, sailboats, a reconstructed house, an exhibit on Beards and Beardgrooming (omgfinally!!), a good photography exhibit, and a reading room. On another floor is a special exhibit sort of based around an archaeological dig of one area, and the displays were really beautifully produced with purple walls. There are also children's activities and playthings integrated into the museum, which makes it a good place for families even though a lot of the exhibits are really geared for adults and very stylishly designed. The third floor has a more chronological feel, with artifacts from Iceland from the 16th century to the present, including some amazing contemporary groupings of toys and household items through the 20th-century.

To end the day, I went to my first choir rehearsal. Yes, that's right, I joined a choir in Iceland and the rehearsals are only in Icelandic. Luckily, the music is mostly Latin, and 'piano' and 'fortissimo' I can definitely understand. The group seems very social so I'm hoping it gets me to know a few more people, and the church has a beautiful piano and even a harmonium! I hope to get to play them sometime soon. While I don't really understand much of what people are saying in rehearsals, I can usually glean a lot out of body language, and I'm very good at picking out if a measure or page number has been called, so I can come in on cue. Mendelssohn Choir of Pittsburgh it is also not, so I can help the basses out a little bit too. So their win for my bassi range is also my win for more Icelandic immersion. Sorry I can't laugh at your jokes yet, though. I'm sure it was funny, and I think it involved something about coffee.

Doing Nothing with a Purpose

I've heard from many people that Icelanders are often reluctant to give out information. Or at least, it's not a cultural 'thing' to give more information than asked, because why would you need to? Someone asks how much a bus ticket to a particular place costs, and you tell them, it's three dollars. Simple! You don't tell them that that particular place is in the middle of nowhere, because that's not the question they asked, now is it? That's just a vague example, but today's activities combined with an all-day rain and a sore knee compounded a bit of an annoying sitch.
Sample dialogue from today, as I'm trying to find a college faculty member to schedule a meeting.

-(Me:) I'm looking for Só-and-Só-ersson.
-(Secretary:) Well, did you try his office?
-Yes, but he's not here.
-Well, he's probably teaching.
-Can you tell me when he teaches?
-Well, he keeps his own schedule, he's very busy.
-Do you know when he'll be back?
-No, not really.
-Can you show me the schedule of classes so I can figure it out?
-No, I'm sorry, I can't show that to you.
-Okay then, bye.

Luckily I did find a camera store, I think the only camera store in Reykjavík that's not at the mall, and they had a battery charger for my camera and a little tripod for long-exposure shots et al. So, minus one for professor, plus one for camera battery.

You might be wondering what I'm doing here, in Íslands, not going to school, but not really working a job either. Well, the plan on paper is to create a 'multimedia installation of music based on the landscape and people of the country'. In reality, I don't know if something that ambitious could ever be accomplished with the resources I currently have. Currently: count one new mac that shuts down inexplicably from time to time from kernel errors, one digital recorder, one 4-megapixel camera, and one borrowed MIDI keyboard (four octaves, not bad). But, the good thing is that I am under no pressure to create anything epic, and in fact, the Fulbright office here was more than happy to tell me that what I really need to do now is just 'be a sponge', get out and travel, see everything there is to see, and do as much as I can. This is supposed to me the time for me to think about art without having another job or two get in the way! It's just weird to think about doing nothing really...but doing nothing with purpose.
I also hope to meet as many Icelandic composers, musicians, and artists as I can. I think it will help me work in ways that I might not have ever conceived of before.

Graveyards, Orchestras, and Swimming Pools

I saw three amazing things today, all very different!
Eitt. I went to the Reykjavik cemetery today and saw the graves there from the 1800's onward. One of my favorite things to do is to visit cemeteries; I know it's morbid, but every city does it differently, and it's a good way to get back to reality, or ponder things, or just take some pictures. It's a small site but there are a lot of plots packed into a small space! And TONS of trees. I think this is the most densely-packed tree area in the whole city! It was a drizzly morning and quiet, save for a funny parade happening down the street with a marching band that sounded like it was playing 'Bomboleyo'. I noticed that one half of the cemetery has trees of almost solely one type; the other side has different species. You can also tell where newer sites are planted; some old plots have giant stones for gravestones, some have iron crosses, some have what I think of as 'traditional' headstones, and some are like fences around a square of grass. The best sites have a tree growing right out of the middle of the plot, which I assume (without reading up on anything) was a tradition upon death. The description of the cemetery does say that you can see the styles and habits of burial change, and I think a lot of people today here just get cremated. It also says that the side of the cemetery with only one kind of tree will change; those trees only grow to be about 80 years old and then they die, to be ousted by longer-living trees.

But oh my goodness do some of these plots look amazing! I just think of the most amazing images- imagine planting a tree over your loved one, and in a hundred years, that tree had totally taken over the plot. Its roots have literally crushed and covered over your beloved- they've become one again with nature. Strong but silent forces, over years and years. How very Icelandic, so it seems. And for the sites with cairn-like stones on them, it looks totally haunting, as if the stone is necessary to press down on the ground preventing the thin earth in Iceland from pushing the grave back up to the topsoil.

Tvö. I went to the Symphony Orchestra's 'Open House' for families, where the symphony played a couple short 'hits' and there were activities for kids and snacks. This is the way to do orchestral music for families, y'all! A pianist played some Rachmaninoff. There was a lady in costume who came out on stage and entertained the kids with stories. There were treats. And really great music. The kids were so well-behaved! It's just a first-impression, but I think Icelandic children are better-behaved than American brats. I saw a lot of babies and kids really enjoying the music being played, which lest I remind you was NOT Peter and the Wolf. It didn't have to be dumbed-down for anyone. Speaking of babies, I cried like one at several moments during the short concert. I think it's been a stressful week (good stresses, but nonetheless tiring) and to hear such well-played music really brightened my spirits, and the tears just poured out. Luckily I was sitting in the back so no one could see my slobber.

I will be back for more concerts with the symphony; in the winter and spring they're putting on some particularly-good works, including pieces by Icelandic composers, Penderecki's Threnody, and Steve Reich's Drumming.

Þrjú. The swimming pool! This totally made my day, as if the Symphony wasn't enough. For under three dollars you can swim as much as you want in the olympic-size pool, complete with kids' area, lanes for laps, and four hot tubs ('hot pots') of differing hot temperatures. I was particularly fond of 36 degrees (celsius), 'cause I could sit in that bath water all day, but the 40 degrees pot was pretty muscle-relaxant-y and one could feel a bit internally overheated after a while. There's a sauna too.

There are some rules in Iceland about pools. The water is not really cleaned, because people clean themselves before and after entering. There is a great (funny) article about swimming here at style.com, but I will quote Joe Sugarman's article that yes, it does feel at first like high-school swimming torture/I mean CLASS, but then you realize the water is so wonderful and warm and womb-like, and that "...in America, people swim to cool off. In Iceland, people swim to warm up." After a half-hour at the pool, I dried off, put on some clothes, and I definitely felt more comfortable than I had been in the last few days! I went to the grocery store and didn't feel overwhelmed by baskets and meats and fish displays. I walked back to the apartment very relaxed. And now it's time for dinner, which I bought myself, and I'm going to attempt to cook some Icelandic ham (skinka) and pasta (conveniently, pasta) which I think I am going to conquer.

Pool photo credits: sundlaugur.is.

Windy day, nice evening, Fulbright fellows

It was a windy and dark morning this morning, the first of many days I'm sure that I'll be using my hood of my new raincoat. But the view from the sea looks pretty cool with dark clouds making the water also very dark. I still took a walk through Gamli Vesurbænum, or the 'old' part of Reykjavík's downtown, which includes Fríkirkja and Landspítali, a big hospital. It also borders the area with the library and SÍM, the artist residence/workspace in Iceland. I saw the big boats docked there; I'm not sure if they're all used for whaling and fishing, though, as one seemed to look pretty touristy. This is also the area where whale and puffin-watching tours leave.

The evening was lovely, though, and after seeing some bad art I had a couple drinks with another Fulbright artist (Nicole) here in Iceland, and it warmed the evening very nicely with good company in a cozy bar. It wasn't exactly the craziness of the rúntur that happens here on weekends, but I'm sure I'll have my chances for all-night partying in the months to come. Besides, I'm more of a classy drink drinker, and it's hard for me to come to grips with paying a lot for really bad beers, when I could pay just a bit more for a better (though not awesome) couple glasses of wine and get a little tipsy, but then not also have to pee all night. But that might change, the Icelandic version of PBR could be my new best friend.

Around 107 Reykjavík

I almost have a sunburn, it was so nice out today! I didn't expect the sun to shine so warmly and I am very overdressed, at least right this second. That's bound to change.

Big news everyone, I went to the mall today and bought a cellphone. It's so much more easy here, buying one flat out and just paying for what you need. I also had a moment of joy when I heard my name being called out- in the mall- and it was for me! And it wasn't because I had forgotten my credit card in a store or something. Another Fulbright student, Nicole, saw me as she was shopping and we had an amazing lunch and shopping adventure together. I also bought an Iceland-appropriate coat, as nothing I brought was good enough for the damp wind and rain here.

Around my apartment are some great things. Though I currently don't live in the center of town, which is about a 20 minute walk away, there is plenty to do around this side of RVK. My apartment now is near the university (Háskóli Íslands) and many other schools, from elementary to high schools. There are children everywhere (tiny ones= okay, medium sized ones= annoying). I live about a three-minute walk from a movie theatre (Háskólabío) which also houses the concert hall for the Iceland Symphony Orchestra! I could just roll out of bed from a nap and get my culture on.
I can go swimming in one of the city's best pools very nearby, but I will probably just lay in the hot tubs there. And of course, I can walk to the sea which is down the street, past one row of houses. I can see the sea from my room's window! There is also a pharmacy, two convenience stores, and a hot dog shop (naturally) within a short walk, as well as the National Museum of Iceland which houses a lot of ancient artifacts, and the Saga Museum, housing some ancient manuscripts of Iceland.