Knowing My History: Part 2

On Identity

I have lived in many different places, including: Kelowna BC, Lethbridge AB, Saskatoon SK, and Peterborough ON, to name a few but not in chronological order. Somehow I had never set foot in the province of Manitoba until I was 22 when I traveled to Winnipeg and Gimli for the first time. 

I went because I wanted to attend the famous Islendingadagurinn or Iceland Days festival that happens during the August long weekend in Gimli. I have Guttormsson cousins with cottages who welcomed me for a whole week, happy to show me around, attending all the activities even though they had been enjoying them for many years and not all parts of the festival were novel for them anymore.

I first learned about the Fjallkona and saw her traditional costume while in Gimli. I also learned that my great-grandmother had been the Fjallkona at the Islendingadagurinn one year. I also saw choirs and dancers from Iceland performing on the centre stage, and ate Icelandic treats in the food pavilion. For the first time I tasted kleinur, pönnukökur, and skyr in its original unsweetened and unflavoured form.

Now that I live just outside of Toronto, I attend events all the time where Icelandic treats and savoury foods are available. But in Gimli, I was treated to a new culinary experience I had not expected. Growing up in the Okanagan my mother and I were members of the Icelandic Canadian Club of BC but we lived too far away to attend many events in Vancouver. Also in Gimli, at the local chain grocery store my cousin bought hardfiskur (dried fish) and hankikjöt (smoked lamb) for me to try. Brennivín was also available at the local Liquor Store, but I did not try it then.

The exposure to the culture of my ancestors infused a renewed sense of pride within me. Throughout my adolescent years, being of Icelandic heritage was still important to me, but I had stopped bragging about the poet. Nobody around me had heard of Guttormur J. Guttormsson and as far as I knew, there were no more books of his except maybe on dusty shelves somewhere in Gimli. As a teenager I wanted to be the right amount different so as not to completely stand out but not fit in with in-crowd. Like most at that age, I was figuring out who I was and did not want the influence of my parents overshadowing my own definition of myself.

Then, in my twenties, I went to study at Trent University and took a summer course, Introduction to Indigenous Studies. To my shame, I learned that I had completed grade school without learning anything substantial about the history of Canada in regards to the treatment of our First Nations. It was in that course that I was encouraged to learn about my own roots, to learn my own history as the descendant of immigrants, and to learn the treaties that made my life possible today. 

These new questions increased my interest and determination to find out everything possible about my Icelandic family. I wanted this history to understand my current identity as a Canadian.

I had been to Gimli, my next stop was Iceland.

Knowing My History: Part 1

On Being Proud

I grew up with a strong sense of pride for being an Icelandic-Canadian. I could point out Iceland on a map when my classmates could not, even though the only thing I really knew about Iceland was that it was not entirely covered by ice, as the name suggests. I am not sure how I learned that, for these were times before Google and Wikipedia, but somehow the trivia fact stuck with me.

Even though I was proud, I did not grow up in an overly Icelandic home. There were, however, small hints of our ancestry that permeated our lives. My grandfather, my mother's father, lived with us for several years when I was young and as far back as I can remember he kept an Icelandic sheepskin, draped over our couch and he still has it today. He also had an ornamental sheep horn displayed on our mantle. And every Christmas we made the Icelandic-Canadian traditional Vinarterta cake using Uncle Thor's recipe (Uncle Thor was a real person too, he was the brother of my grandfather). Many Icelandic names carried on in my family, although they were mostly anglacized, like: Pálina (Pauline), Pétur (Peter), Sálin (Salin and Celine), and classic Thor.

Before I turned ten, I knew that my name, Guttormsson, both impossible to pronounce and spell, linked me to a well-known poet with the same name. I used to tell all my friends this, in search of something to mark me as different and special. It did not matter to me that I had never seen his books, I assumed only adults would know of him. I had been learning French in school from the age of 8, but I had no real understanding that there was an Icelandic language or that I would not be able to read this poet's poems.

At some level I understood that our family went to Winnipeg from Iceland, but I knew nothing of our family's history until I entered high school and started asking questions. I think I was eleven or twelve before I even learned what a viking was, or at least understood who the vikings were. For most of my life I was proud just to be a part of the Icelandic-Canadian community in Canada. Even though we were few, and widely scattered, it was comforting to know there were other families who made Vinarterta, who loved to eat fish, and were tall like me and my family, because I assumed all people from Iceland were tall. Although I have equal amounts of Icelandic, English, Scottish, and German mixed in my genetics, Iceland was the only root I grew up with. 

My Favourites in Reykjavik: Coffee and Beer

A friend shared this article with me yesterday:

New York times article: "36 Hours in Reykjavik" by Ingrid K. Williams

and it got me to thinking how hard it must be to write a generic "ideal" itinerary, especially for a short stop-over because it really depends on when you arrive, how much energy you have, your budget, and what you like to do. Then, last night, I was listening to the Dinner Party Show podcast and Christopher Rice and Eric Shaw Quinn were sharing some of their favourite things, and it got me thinking that I have not shared any of my favourite places yet.

So, because I always travel on a budget, my recommendations are based on my own personal experiences and are budget conscious. If you want reviews of five star dining, I am not the one to give it to you.

Here are some of my favourites...

Coffee and Beer

"C" is for Cookie  is my absolute favourite place for coffee and... you guessed it, cookies. They also prepare delicious soups and lunch food. The staff are friendly and are patient when you practice your Icelandic phrases. The vibe of the place is comfortable, and in good weather it is a lovely spot to sit outside, slightly removed from the busy main streets. Located at Týsgata 8 it is about half way between the central plaza and Hallgrímskirkja, just off one of the main roads.

Café Loki is also a neat spot, directly across from Hallgrímskirkja. The ground floor is a small café with wifi and the upstairs is a small restaurant with many traditional food options, as well as coffee and other beverages. The captivating mural featured in the upper floor is also noteworthy and worth the visit.

Hressó ... full name: Hressingarskálinn, but it is far easier to just say Hressó. This place is a café-restaurant-bar. It reminds me of The Only in Peterborough Ontario, or either The Red Room or the Java Hut in Toronto Ontario ... the food is good, but the service is neither fast nor overly friendly. When I visited Iceland in 2014 it was a great place to watch the World Cup for football. They also have excellent live music. There is no faster way to win over the heart of a Canadian Girl than by playing Bryan Adams - Summer of ´69 when she walks in!

Den Danske Kro was also a hopping spot during the World Cup, with live music every night, often playing American music. With a fair selection of beer and a laid-back atmosphere, it was a refreshing feel like many small town bars that I love, without being overly "Canadian" or "American". I like a good beer, a nice patio, and being able to have a conversation at the bar. This place provided all that. And the name "Danish Krown" hit a soft spot for me.

History

History.

It is both fascinating and addicting when you are learning about the stories you are both in and are from. But once you dig beyond living memory and stories that are passed down verbally, the stories fade into dates, data, and lists. So and so was born here on this approximate date. They boarded a boat form here to go there and took with them these things... and so on. 

We lose the personal connections.

The imagination wants more of our ancestors. The imagination wants to know their personalities, their hopes, desires, and fears. Did two people create babies with mutual consent? Was love and romance involved? Or was it simply a chore or a crime? We cannot know these things with only dates, places, and names. We can only guess and make assumption. For the lucky few there may be books or accounts of their lives, left in journals, memoirs, or jotted down by others. But the full scope of their personal lives are mysteries that we´ll never be able to solve.

But none of that stops us from dreaming.

Welcome to Hofsós

I am back in Iceland for another summer, this time right until September, and with a lot more free time to write and reflect and share photos and videos here. So welcome back/velkomin to my blog about being a Western Icelander/Vesturislendingur in Iceland. And welcome to my humble abode for the summer, Siða, in Hofsós.

University of Iceland - Stúdentakjallarinn (Student Cellar)

The glass window between the cafeteria above and the student pub below at the University of Iceland.

If you thought you couldn't LOVE Iceland any more than you do now... these pictures will cement your emotions! (hopefully!) I promise to deliver 1 or 2 or more each week to share my adventure piece by piece, and new insights into Icelandic - Canadian connections.

What You Waiting For?

If you are unsure whether to apply for the Snorri Program, I am here to help you make up your mind: YES! 

Do it! 

Don’t wait another second, just fill out the application, I promise you won’t regret it!

If you are between 18 and 28 log on to your computer right now, or use your smart phone, and visit www.snorri.is and download the forms. This trip will transform you no matter what place you are in life. If you don’t believe me, watch the short video from 2014, my trip. You will be envious of the fun we had, but your trip will likely be at least half as great. Don’t worry, I am only teasing. Your trip will be unforgettable too!

Now, what that video can’t show you, is how it feels to stand on a rocky beach, listening to the cold Atlantic water splash sloppily along the shoreline, feeling the cool wind tug gently at your hair as it races into the fjord from the ocean. It cannot share with you the smell of cold salt water, of dried fish from the nearby packing plant, or the absence of any scent except for nature all around you. It cannot show you how powerfully emotional it is to stand on the beach where one of your ancestors arrived nearly 250 years prior, and where your other ancestors left from only 150 years ago, as they embarked for Canada. It cannot prepare you for how surreal it is to stand on the farm where your ancestors were born, or where they had their families, or where their lives ended. And it cannot give you that strange sense of home that you feel when traveling the countryside, while shaking hands with families who are related to you as far back as your great-great-great-great grandmother’s half-sister whom no one had ever heard of until they were contacted by the amazing folks at Snorri, and then looked it up on Íslendingabók to make sure it was true.

What that video cannot show you, I can only begin to describe for you. If you want to experience Iceland, to know where our ancestors came from, to see what it is they left behind, and to truly know your own history, you need to participate in this program. And if you’re older than 28, or you're not Icelandic, go on the Snorri Plus program – it sounds amazing too! And it’s organized by the same great people. So what are you waiting for? Fill out those forms, do your homework (especially the language prep.), and discover your story!

The deadline to apply for the Snorri 2015 Program is January 16, 2015.

The deadline to apply for the Snorri Plus 2015 Program is January 30, 2015.

Applications can be found at: www.snorri.is

** I chose this video to promote the application deadline, but it definitely applies to my inability to stay consistent on this blog! How ironic.