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I had two jobs to do at the bank this morning. First, I alphabetized the packages to be picked up at the post office, and then later the branch manager gave me a little tutorial on how the computer system works. Not like I´ll need to know that, since I can´t do that sort of thing in Icelandic, but it was interesting at least. That took all of 15 minutes and then I was back to keeping myself entertained at my desk. I think I might take up online poker.
Lísa brought me for another little tour around town and pointed out who lived where at what point in the town´s history. Again, I was surprised at how much I understood.
Tonight I went with my cousin Halla (pronounced Het-la) and her 7 year old daughter to the French Museum here in town, and to the French fisherman´s graveyard. There were a bunch of French fellas that came here way back when to fish and make a living and it turns out Iceland was not Frechmen friendly because a bunch of them died. Their impact on the town is still felt today. The museum and graveyard are monuments to their part of the town´s history, and all the street signs are written in Icelandic and French. I can read the French way better than the Icelandic at this point. Thanks, Mme. Proulx.
After that little adventure we drove to her parent´s house where we were served a platter of lambs head (I´m not kidding), hangikjöt, mashed rutabaga, sweetened mashed potatoes, red cabbage, and peas. I ate part of a sheep cheek and then stuck with rutabaga and hangikjöt.
She made a killer chocolate lava cake for dessert too. Halla´s mother makes beautiful woolen goods, and she gave me a little pair of mittens (like keychain or Christmas tree decoration sized) that have 2 sets of thumbs on each mitten. They are historically made this way so that when the palm of a mitten wears out you can just flip it around and use the other side. Waste not, want not!
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