Basket weaving

Boogie cartoon from butternutsquash

It was pointed out to me at ceilidh class tonight that so many dances are about basket weaving. In and out, round and about. I think it is true. I wonder what a Strip the Willow basket would like? I think I´d like one. We also had a go at making a basket of people.. (see the video here for an example). I hope nobody is injured after all that. In the UK I feel we would have needed a few thick piles of paper to fill in to ensure we carried out a thorough risk assessment. Things thankfully are a little more laid back here. One man down .. a few more left still standing .. thats okay then.. Still I am teaching a lot of foreigners so perhaps I should be more careful. Everyone up for slow waltz? No really I think it went well, lots of fun. I am really enjoying the classes and am glad I finally went for it. Have been thinking about this idea for at least 12 months!

Just wait a minute..

So they say if you don´t like the weather, wait a minute. I thought things got silly in Scotland but we´ve had fun here in the last few days. Hail, snow, rain, sleet, sunshine and blue skies. Then I drove home after belly dancing and had to stop to take pictures .. there were the most amazingly dramatic, purples and greys, blacks and blues; anvil-shaped clouds hugging the mountains all around leaving Reykjavík underneath an island of blue mediterraneanesque (well one can dream!) sky. That was all on Monday.
Today was pretty much the same but I sheltered inside and looked up through the big windows at work .. each window had a different type of weather.

I´ve been inside the last few days though planning ceilidh fun, whistling and fluting and listening to lots of music. I´ve also been trying out my Icelandic skills and pushing them as far as I can with letter writing. The joy of getting a response in Icelandic back from an email sent by me in my "special" Icelandic is immeasurable. Understanding it is cloud nine. Turns out that everyones' tolerance for poor grammar here is much better than I had thought and I can just go for it and talk like a baby. I had underestimated the tolerance for funny sounding Icelandic and was keen on using it as my favourite excuse to avoid trying to speak. Oh well no excuse now.. Gagagagooo woohoo!

First steps on stage

This was my belly dance class' first steps on stage at Þjóðleikhúskjallarinn on the 13th of April, performing a choreography by Aida Nour. Our teacher, Margrét, had a fun duet with her very entertaining teacher Maher, dancing a choreography originally danced by Mahmoud Reda and Farida Fahmy.



I was really impressed by Fífí´s solo:



It was fun and great to see the experienced dancers, so relaxed and fluid, cat-like, in their amazing costumes. I suspect belly dance costumes are like shoes.. can you have too many?

Big day for Iceland

Last night we sat watching elections all night. First the Eurovision Song Contest which Iceland was knocked out of quite unjustly because of neighbourly voting in eastern Europe and a limited Scandinavian population to back up a pretty good attempt, by Eurovision standards, by Eiríkur Hauksson. Perhaps not being a beautiful blond model didn't help either. Still, being knocked out before the final didn´t stop folk taking everything seriously and being outrageously irritated by the unfair, political voting. This year west versus east Europe it seems. It didn´t help pointing out that it has always been like that. Also didn´t stop Iceland voting for Sweden and Finland at 10 and 12 points.

Then, to my horror, before the winner was announced, just seconds before the finale and replay of the winning song, the TV cut to watch the other big event of the day.. watching the ballot results coming from across Iceland. For yesterday was the Icelandic parliamentary elections that threatened at least to be a pretty close run. In the end the two parties in the ruling coalition were voted back in, but that wasn´t too clear until around 4am.

Of course I couldn't vote for the politicians but it was pointed out to me to soothe the loss that I had one big advantage over everyone here .. I could still put my political ideas into practise by voting twice for the Eurovision, once with my Icelandic mobile and once with my British one.

A suitable follow up to Lordi? Photo by Peter Stubbs

This all reminded me of the recent elections in Scotland. I couldn't vote there either because it was deemed not to be a national election despite being my nation. I had some lively conversations in Edinburgh and was brought close to tears at the unusual levels of hope and community strength in the city. Perhaps for once we Scots were able to believe that there could be change and hope for the country, that we could make a difference and be proud. For how can you proudly hold your head up to the world if you have no power to make decisions for your own country? Keep harking back to the great Scots of old and those who went away from Scotland and did brave and exceptional things abroad? Or am I just getting all Sean Connery-like and getting more pro-Scots than any Scot still living at home? Not sure I want that to happen. Or is it just more noticeable to me now that a small country can do well as an independent nation?

If an independent Scotland were entered into the Eurovison which political connections would they be trying to maintain through the media of drag acts and sparkles? Well, apparently there was a Scot there, singing for Montenegro, who´s ancestor "William Faddy, .. came through Montenegro on the Crusades and fell in love with a local girl and decided to stay". He hoped that would help his song win Scottish support. Viewed that way, the Norwegians, Danes and Irish should have voted to keep Iceland in the contest and perhaps Iceland would have won Eurovision.. just like they should have done of course!

Sun and books

The sun is shining today in Reykjavík. It shone through much of the night last night too. It always takes me a little while to get into the long daylight hours, though I look forward to it greatly. To start with it just makes me tired, but happy. From my office I can see two children bouncing high into the air on a trampoline in their garden. The world around is getting greener, spring has sprung. Perhaps winter will jump back in for a finale in the next month.. probably tying in with my planned first fieldwork trip of the summer.

Well, it´s not really the weather for sitting inside reading and it is probably a little too cool for sitting outside reading, but it is a good time to venture out of the house and perhaps meet some new people and thinking about books for rainy days. I thought some weeks ago that it would be good to swap books in person in Iceland as a way of recycling books and perhaps meeting new people. I still think it´s a good idea but any complex signing-up book swapping community based on the internet just might not work. So, I am proposing a once a month gathering in Kaffi Mokka of anyone who wants to swap books in whatever language. If like some you have rooms and rooms of books grab a random few, stuff them in your bag and set off downtown. If you´re in or around Reykjavík even just for a visit bring a book you have read or are tired off, have a coffee, yummy hot chocolate or even better Belgian waffle and leave with some new reading material for a rainy day or a long bus trip. Hope to see you there.

Oh, how we ceilidhed!

Circling dancers in Linlithgow

Today I held my first ceilidh class in Reykjavík. I enjoyed it, I hope others did.

Every time I nip back to Scotland I try to fit a ceilidh in. Actually I bend backwards, sideways and spin round about to make one fit in. This time we fared outside Edinburgh in search of the best ceilidh to be had and we definitely found it. The Linlithgow Rugby Club Ceilidh with Last Tram Tae Auchenshuggle. We shuggled, we hopped and we both learnt some new dances. I really liked the Siege of Venice! And the Cumberland Square Eight .. aka the Basket Dance. We even showed off with a little tango.

A basket performed by Magnus and friends to Last Tram.
One for Keith!

Our feet were still hurting days after and Óli´s arm was bruised for days due to the rough handling he got being spun by the ladies! Still, thats a mark (literally) of a good night with lots of dancing.

Whirlwind

A new friend in Edinburgh.

We´re back north with views of the snow-capped Esja on the way to work and far across to the Reykjanes ridge from the living room window, the sulphurous smell in the shower and the highly changable weather here. There was sleet hitting the car windscreen as we were kindly given a lift back to Reykjavík by Óli´s Mum, rain on the kitchen window as we enjoyed her cake and coffee and then sunshine when we were invited back for dinner. Today there is a bright blue sky and red roofs outside my window.

The trip to Scotland was a whirlwind. We met family, friends and made new friends too. My folks passed by. That was lovely and I´m looking forward to their visit here. We saw some great friends and sadly missed seeing others. I met a friend of Óli´s who was just lovely. We had sun, sun and more sun. A tiny sprinkling of rain in Glasgow. My pro-Edinburgh propaganda works well in the sun. I indulged in Scottish ex-pat tourist behaviour buying dodgy tartan tights and Óli showed his celtic maternal origins with great enthusiasm in the form of bagpipe and kilt purchases. There was fire, body paint, cold chilly nights, hot summer afternoons, good old fashioned pubs, too many cooked breakfasts, ice cream in the park, a not very scary underground tour, satisfyingly focussed work on pretty shiny glass, desert, tropical rain forests and dusty, cosy bookshops. I belly danced, we ceilidhed... oh, how we ceilidhed. Photos of these things soon.

Friend in a bag.