Thanks, Mom.

28/10/14

You did good.

(More posts coming soon.)

The October Dance and Giving Raving A Chance

20/10/14

Fast forward past finding something Bollywood (the theme)-ish to wear, taking 3 buses, and managing to talk my way into the venue despite not having a ticket (#justexchangestudentthings), and BOOM:

ÁRSHÁTÍÐ!

Left: Eva
Right: Kristín
Behind the lens: Me

I met Eva at the front door, so we walked in together, then met up with Kristín and the rest of our class at our table.

While we were waiting for entertainment and food, I decided to raise morale with a group photo.

FEAST!

Dinner was a three-course meal of lobster bisque; steak, the equivalent of approximately three-fourths of a serving of vegetables (seriously, who decided to give us one spear of asparagus? It's not gourmet, dude, it's just frustrating), and chocolate mousse with some kind of Pop Rocks topping, which was actually really good.

This was some sort of non-alcoholic concoction of Sprite, juice, and presumably fairy dust. Basically it tasted like strawberry sparkling cider.

Between courses there were speeches and giveaways, plus some pre-dance dancing:

Sorry for the stills interrupting the video, but I saw no other way to take pictures and record the whole thing at simultaneously.

Next, she got some of the other students to--reluctantly--come up.

Lastly, there were these guys.

 Oh, and go check out the Árshártíð promo video that Skólafélagsins/the school society made this year. It has the president of Iceland in it (1:38)!

There was also a hashtag for people to submit photos on social media that would then be displayed on these big screens in the dining area.

 The idea was to post cute/silly photos of you and your friends at the dance or earlier in the day (each of the classes had brunch together in the morning). 

For example:

The concept deteriorated gradually, first with really silly photos...

...then animals...

 ...and then, well, I don't really know:

I chose not to focus correctly because his eyes actually stare directly into your soul.

 And then we were off to the before-party. However, that's all the pictures I got because, as the title explains, I thought attending a dance where I didn't spend the whole time taking pictures might be a nice change of pace, so I gave the coat-keeper my camera bag as well. I ran into withdrawal symptoms before I was even all the way upstairs, but I got over it.
Luckily, this time the dance was at the beginning of a long weekend. Looking forward to Jólaball!

Long Time No Blog

17/10/14

Yo, yo, yo...

Last night was Árshátíð, which I believe translates to ''annual festival/celebration'', and it's supposedly the equivalent of homecoming in the US, except I've been to homecoming and this was about a million times cooler. But more on that later.

Since it's been nearly two weeks since the last post, I thought I'd give you guys a bit of an update on how things are going with adjusting to life here. 

• Contrary to what just about everyone--Americans and Icelanders alike--insisted, I haven't gotten sick of the weather here. Waiting for the bus at night can be a bit of a drag when it's windy and raining in addition to being dark, but I can say with certainty that I have a new-found appreciation for the indoors. And hot tea. So, so much hot tea. 
• Despite not speaking Icelandic very much (something I'm trying to change), I am understanding more, to the point where I can usually sort of follow along with what my class is talking about, which makes paying attention a lot easier, let me tell you. Also, my host mom and I went to a Swedish movie a couple of days ago (Turist aka Force Majeur) that had Icelandic subtitles, and I was surprised to find that I knew what they were talking about most of the time, so the progress is definitely there. The nice thing about learning a language is that the more you understand, the easier it is to learn more. 
• People here are so much more eager to go out and do things after work/school, often as a group, on a daily basis, which I absolutely love. And it's not because students don't have as much homework or material to study or whatever, as that's not the case at all. I think it's just in the mindset. I'm finding that the US in particular is extremely time-orientated. When is it? How long will it be? What are we going to do when we get there? Will we do something after that? What will we do, specifically? When will it be over? These are all questions that I'm learning not to ask, and I'm positive that I get more out of the experience for it.

Okay, that's all that comes to mind right now. I'll add something with pictures in the near future. :)

SLÁTUR!!!! (aka Another Short Post)

5/10/14

So, around the time of year when lambs are being slaughtered, it's traditional to eat the...err...leftover bits. This, from what I understand, includes the blood and liver of the sheep. Usually you stuff these goodies into the sheep's stomach before sewing and then boiling them, but this time we used a synthetic alternative and pins for convenience's sake. 

Basically I stuffed blood and guts into a bag and then ate it. Wanna see? (Trigger warning: obviously there will be blood.)

My mouth says I'm having fun but my eyes say, ''I just accidentally pinned my glove to the bag for the third time in a row''.

Fast forward through boiling them for three hours and...

Ta-da! The light brown ones are the liver and whatnot, and the almost-black one is blood pudding.

What would a traditional Icelandic dinner be without potatoes?

Q: So, how did it taste?

A: Surprisingly good. I liked the meat ones better than the blood, which is actually how most people feel--hence why there was only one blood bag among three meaty ones. The taste is kind of like a sausage or hot dog I guess, but it's definitely got a flavor all its own. It was very rich as well. As you can see, one pouch fed my host mom, sister, and me.

If you ever get the chance to participate in making/eating lifrapylsa and blóðmör, I highly recommend giving it a shot.

Little Things (1/?)

29/9/14

I've been having a very cozy autumn so far, and I hope the same goes for you. Tonight was especially so because I'm learning prjóna/knitting! Just in time for the cold months.

It's going to be a potholder. Or something.

I also helped my host mom bake a carrot cake. Well, okay, I grated the carrots and then continued knitting.

Lastly, my hair is finally long enough to be put in a bun. It won't be long before I start introducing French braids and whatnot into the mix. Next checkpoint: tucking my bangs behind my ear and them actually staying there. A girl can dream.

Busaball and Partying For All

29/9/14

A quick prologue: I didn't bring my camera to school the day this took place, so there aren't any photos of what happened in the first part of this post. You'll just have to trust me.

If you live in the States, you're probably familiar with the whole ''freshmen initiation'' thing for high school and university students, but what you may not know is that it's international. Except, instead of freshmen, they call us busar in Iceland, but it means the same thing. Additionally, instead of--to put it bluntly--basically treating us like crap the whole year as they did at my old school but not doing anything to us except convincing us that underwater basket-weaving is a real class, they actually initiate us...HARDCORE.

Now, technically busavika lasts a whole week (it does literally translate to ''busa week'', after all), but nothing really happened until Fimmtudagur/Thursday, the day of the freshmen dance (busaball). Well, nothing except growing anxiety from wondering what exactly the older kids have in store for us. Anyway, busar were all told to wear white shirts and blue jeans so we'd stand out, and to avoid spoiling the fun, we all obliged. As soon as we got to school, I think a lot of us were wishing we hadn't. 

That's because there was a rather intimidating girl in all black with white eyes (I mean, they were obviously contacts, but still) who didn't say anything, but wouldn't let anyone go in the front doors of the school. Instead, she pointed off to the left or right, and everyone had to go around to the back door. 

As I walked around the building, I began to hear something that was both pretty and nightmarish. On the stairs leading up to Casa (the cafeteria) were two rows of figures in hooded black robes that hid their faces all ominously humming together without moving. Luckily, I did not need to go to Casa.

If you can believe it, the rest of the school day was normal. Well, almost. With just one class period to go, we looked out of the windows and saw a crowd forming on the steps of people in all kinds of terrifying war face paint chanting ''BUSABLÓÐ!'' (''freshmen blood'') over and over again as a line of white-shirt-wearing kids had to squeeze through the middle of them. Then, as quickly as they had assembled, they dispersed.

Or so we thought. From down the hall, we could hear people counting, and after each number the bell tolled (oh yeah, our school has an actual bell that someone rings between classes! MR is really freaking old). One of my classmates told me that when they reached tólf/twelve they would all charge down the hall into the busa classes. She was not wrong. After being forced to sing ''Gaudeamus Igitur'' (a school song thing) in both Latin and Icelandic, we crawled out of the front doors of the school under the toga'd upperclassmen while they hissed at us and then ran to the front yard, surrounded by older kids. 

Then, one by one, they began pulling us away over to groups of six guys (in togas, obviously), where we were thrown. Einn! Tveir! Þrír! And then you're airborne. It was very cool. 

After that we ran up a small hill back towards the school buildings, where everyone who was tossed got a paper triangle pinned to them that basically said that we had in fact been tossed and then we went to a little table where we got cake and milk after shaking hands with the two presidents of the two student councils, who said, ''Velkomin,'' (welcome).

And that was it! We were in! Oh, and then I somehow wound up joining both photography clubs (one for each student council), or ljósmyndafélagið, and they told me to bring my camera to the dance that night, which means I actually have pictures!

Okay, fast forward past the before-party which was essentially trying to navigate around drunk kids in togas who had lost all concept of personal space, and we're at the dance. Err..standing in line for the dance.

Oh, hey! Cool story: in the opposite direction you could sorta kinda see Reykjavík, but much cooler than that were norðurljósinn/the northern lights, which for some strange reason were visible. Over a bright city. In early September. Definitely not where I thought I'd see them for the first time, but hey, I'm not complaining.

Ready for a curve ball? Busaball, despite how it may appear to native English speakers like myself, is not a ball. It's not even really a dance. It's a rave. So when I showed up in a floral skirt, a cardigan, and tights, you could say I was a little over-dressed.

Still, you have to admire the people who knew what they were doing.

Even before I went into the rooms with the actual dancing, I still thought the venue was pretty cool.

Okay, enough stalling. Time for the dance rooms.

This is either one of the best or worst pictures I've ever taken. Up to you.

Heyyyy!!! Something was actually in focus!

Eventually I decided to embrace my role as ''that chick with the camera'' and asked anyone I ran into, ''Má ég taka mynd?''/ ''May I take a picture?'' I'm beyond happy with the results.

 There's plenty more, but those are my favorites. Unfortunately for everyone involved in the ball/rave/dance, we only got  4-5 hours of sleep maximum and had school early the next day; however, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

28/9/14

One thing I really like about Iceland is that there are just things to see everywhere. Take, for example, Ráðhúsið, aka where forsætisráðherran/the prime minister lives. Not only can you walk along the bridge that leads to it, but you can also go inside, get a coffee, and--if you're lucky and they put it out that day--see this awesome 3D map of Iceland:

The pond outside, which I'll have better pictures of soon, is also a popular place to go for locals and tourists alike in the Reykjavík area, as you can walk around it, feed the always-prevalent ducks and/or geese, or just sit and enjoy the weather on the rare days when the sun is out.

This mega-short post is merely the calm before the storm. I've got quite a read coming up, so just sit tight.