It’s a small world after all.
March 11, 2009
[Reykjavík, March 2006]
I was reading an article about the Icelandic financial collapse in The New Yorker today (article in the March 09 issue – not available online) and anyway, it discussed how in Iceland, everybody knows everybody else. The article mentions this is the context of “It’s hard to have a revolution when you run into everyone you’re related to when you walk down the street.” and yes, everyone knows Björk, blah blah blah.
As proof of this, as I’m reading, I come across one name where I nearly jump out of my seat. It’s just the briefest of quotes, but it’s from my ex-husband’s uncle. I wanted to shout at the magazine “I KNOW THAT GUY! I’VE HAD THANKSGIVING AT HIS HOUSE! HE HAS A REALLY NICE DOG.” But of course, magazines can’t hear me, so I’m shouting it at my blog that no one is going to read, which is kind of the same thing.
After four years of constant back and forth, I had just started feeling at home in Iceland. The last time I was there, I didn’t want to leave. Right before we broke up, my ex-husband and I were planning on moving back to Reykjavík in a few years… which would be about now. I guess it’s for the best that it didn’t work out that way. Still, I’m often sad that I won’t be there again, and it’s very surreal to me that even if I went back – the Iceland that I knew isn’t there anymore. I knew the Iceland where a sandwich cost $15US and “thrift stores” were more stylish and expensive than designer clothes.
And yes, I’ve seen Björk. Naked. No lie. Conversely, Björk has seen me naked.