Vegvísir: Travels in Iceland: The End of an Era, or at Least an Internship

“But for three months each year, I am completely, stupidly happy, staring out the big windows at these marvelous mountains, the kaleidoscope colors of the sea, the gallery of clouds and weather that moves past, an opera of light and bird cries.” – Bill Holm, Windows of Brimnes, page 203.

My summer is coming to a close. My time in Hofsós is now complete. Three days from now I will be on an airplane back to Minnesota. Five days from now I will be back in my school office overlooking Interstate 94 instead of in the cozy museum lobby overlooking the Hofsós harbor. Opening week of work for staff in Saint Paul Public Schools starts on the 29^th and I will be there, at least physically. My mind will be on a mountaintop somewhere in the north of Iceland.

I’m back in Reykjavik for a few days now. Monday, I took an emotional bus ride from Hofsós back here to the capital. When I left, the weather echoed my mood; not quite raining, but almost. I was not quite crying, but almost. Saying goodbye to Valgeir and Gunna was wrenching. They have been so warm and generous and all together wonderful to me this summer, and I love them dearly. Valgeir reminded me as he drove me to the bus in Sauðárkrókur that I have family in Hofsós now. This warms my heart, and makes it that much more difficult to leave.

Hofsós

The view from my front porch

As the bus pulled me further and further from Hofsós, I made a list of the things I will miss about the quaint little village and the time I spent there this summer. Here is the highlight reel:

The mountains, and how they changed color in the different light.
The sound of rain on the metal roof that made for incredibly cozy mornings in my attic bedroom.
The beautiful, 3 minute walk to and from work across the bridge and rushing river. Best commute in the world.
Icelandic horses. Every single one.

The faint smell of horses from the farm up on the ridge above the Emigration Center. Depending on which way the wind was blowing, I’d catch a healthy whiff of it when walking to work.
Seeing the horses up on the ridge from my bedroom window. Occasionally waking up to the sound of distant whinnying and/or hoofbeats.

Watching the boats coming and going in the harbor. The view from “my office.”
Gunna’s cheerful, “Hallo, hallo!” greeting as she rushes from place to place.
Valgeir’s grin as he calls me, “Malla palla,” or makes fun of my use of the phrase “easy peasy.”
Long, colorful, introspective walks along the beaches and down the dirt roads outside of town in the evenings. I might even miss the dive-bombing birds a little bit.
Family history research as a whole, but especially the flash of excitement or emotion in peoples’ eyes when we would find the correct name of an ancestor in a book or the computer database.
The smell of the moss and plants, especially up in the mountains when the sun is shining and it’s nice and warm-ish.
Berry picking. Being able to hike and pick berries as I went made me feel like a wild mountaineer that could have survived in the mountains for ages, living off the land. In reality I would have run for home the minute it got dark, but it was nice to imagine for a while.
The super suspicious sheep. Sheep can side-eye with the best of them.
Wonderfully cool summer temperatures. Never feeling overheated.
The sound of the waves lapping (sometimes crashing) up on the rocky beach.
The view of the fjord and the mountains from the kitchen sink in Siða that made washing dishes a little less annoying.

"fjord contemplation"

Riding with the district horseback riding club, which was incredible

One of many good thinking spots

I think more than anything, I will miss the person I am in Iceland. Maybe not completely laid back (that will just never happen), but definitely more relaxed. More willing to go with the flow and just see what happens. Many of my normal responsibilities were left behind in Minnesota, and I know I will be returning to them soon enough. But it has been nice to have a little break from the normal day to day worries and schedule. I've been able to take a deep breath or two and just enjoy being, and expecting the unexpected. Sure, the Icelandic “þetta reddast” mindset can drive me a little nuts sometime. This idea, the country’s motto, that “everything will work out” means that there is less emphasis on planning ahead. And I LOVE to plan ahead. It’s my drug of choice. Trying to get an Icelander to commit to (solid, detailed) plans more than a few days ahead of time can be a lesson in frustration. More often than not the response is, “We will talk about it,” or “We will see.” So, if you can’t beat them, join them. It has (mostly) worked for me this summer. Yes, there are times when it would be nice to plan something more than an hour in advance. But, amazingly, it truly always does seem to work out, even when planning is last minute and a little stressful for those of us used to booking events weeks in advance. This has been a good lesson for me both in patience and trust. And I am always thinking I need a little more spontaneity in my life. This fit the bill.

I may have worked more this summer than I have in a long, long time, but it was fun work. Satisfying work. Heart work, and not just money work. I’m going to try to find more of that once I get home. Change may not be immediate, but it is something I can work towards. I feel recharged. Inspired. I’ve registered for a hippotherapy (horse therapy) workshop in the middle of September, and am making it my goal to try some new things and see where they lead, professionally and personally. My heart is beating a little faster than it was before, anticipating the opportunities that lay before me, and it is a bit more full with these people and places, which is a double edged sword, for now I have more things to miss when I return to Minnesota.

Bill Holm knew of the powerful, recharging powers of Hofsós. It was one of the many things that brought him back there year after year. What drove him to buy his house, Brimnes, and spend so many summers of his life there. It is tempting to copy his choices in this. I could see myself settled in a little house along the beach there. My mother would kill me, but in the days or weeks it would take her to track me down, it would really be lovely.

Bill wrote about how the wider world waited for him to return after spending time in Hofsós. How a commercial and technology driven world still lurked not so far away, but in Hofsós he was able to ignore it for a time. To come and relearn how to enjoy the simple pleasures, good people, and the breathtaking sights that this small town has to offer.

“So I come here to this spare place. A little thinning and pruning is good for the soul. We see more clearly when the noise is less, the objects fewer.” –Bill Holm, Windows of Brimnes, page 24.

For these three months I have been "stupidly happy," as I thought and pruned, and thought some more. Sure, there were a few times when I felt a bit lonely, but that can happen in Minnesota as well, from time to time. I would not have traded this experience for the world. All it took was a walk along the beach or to watch the sunset over Malmey or þórðarhöfði and I would fall right back into a blissful state. How lucky I was to be there and to have had this opportunity. It was life changing to spend these months in this quirky little town at the edge of the world. A big part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and find a way to stay forever (see above, re: mother killing me).

Reykjavik sunset

Reykjavik sailboat party

Rooftop patio view of 101 Reykjavik

View from Perlan on this hot and sunny afternoon.

Dramatic statue men at Perlan

Perlan

Erin Jones and I at Perlan

For the next few days here in Reykjavik I have just a few set plans. A couple of coffee and dinner invitations, details often TBD. Erin Jones and I are planning a day trip tomorrow to Snæfellsnes area. I am not too worried about exactly where we will go or what we will do. I’m just happy to have an adventure with my friend. I will “þetta reddast” with the best of them. Mostly I'm just enjoying every last minute I have here and trying not to think too much yet about what exactly will happen once I get home; all the things I will have to do as I start another school/work year, and find a new apartment, and get myself settled again.

I’m so lucky to have a job that allows me to have an entire summer off for an adventure like this. I know I will be back in Iceland, probably sooner rather than later. I have too many people and places I love here to stay away for too long.

Thank you to the Snorri Alumni Internship Program, the US Embassy, The Icelandic Emigration Center in Hofsós, and everyone else who helped to put this program together. I’ve had the time of my life.