Unison

Hæ,

All things go.

Even wonderful four week field schools with FSÍ. It is hard to believe the time went so fast. I truly believe I have made some connections with people here in Iceland. It is funny how one can make things work when you are stuck at the tip of a fjord in the middle of nowhere. The relationships are built fast and sometimes piecemeal, but the results are usually worth it.

Even those who often expressed their disinterest or downright hatred for the work involved in archaeology were misty eyed when we left Reykjanes and met for one last pint in Reykjavík. These sorts of magical spheres of interaction are never meant to last however--and only if one is lucky do the relationships go anywhere once the globe is shattered.

I am rather ambivalent about the situation because I have not truly left Iceland yet, nor have I truly left Europe. Strangely enough, I think it will only set in when I start my last year at Juniata when I will go a year without seeing Europe again.

The field season was a successfull, but bittersweet one. Because of the financial crisis (kreppa), there is little guarantee of a field school next year, or even a Fornleivastofnun Íslands (FSÍ, Archaeological Institute of Iceland). Here are some moments that didn´t fit in other entries, in picture form.

Nick

The swimming pool at Reykjanes. Now famous! The Icelandic newspaper "The Grapevine" (think the New Yorker and The Onion´s lovechild) recently procclaimed it the best place to swim in Iceland.



The androgynous wash person. Bathing in a hot pool is the traditional way to relax and enjoy life in Iceland. All bathers are required to shower naked before entering. This of course, frightens the prudes. Better to do it and get used to it because pool staff will gently scold you if you don´t clean yourself. Because pool hygiene is so strict, most Icelandic pools use minimal amounts of chlorine or bromine or are simply chemical free (the pool in Reykjanes for example, constantly had fresh spring water running into it).

This sign is in all pools and it reminds bathers special "concentration" areas to consider when cleaning up before swimming.



Head up straight, I know what I'm doing!
(I don't)

Photo credit: Kari G.



Most of the field school enjoying a free evening. Notice the Poles mixing drinks--haha.




An enourmous bonfire in the West Fjords. We blurred by it on our way back from Ísafjörður. It was so big and hot that we felt a heatwave just driving by on the carriageway.

Photo credit: Alan L.



First day at Vatnsfjörður, before we knew each other, before we knew the archaeology. I won´t pretend that social groups didn´t exist at the fieldschool, because they did. And I won´t pretend everyone got along, because that also would be a lie. But we´ve got something big in common now!





Old water spigot near the old pool from 19th century Reykjanes. The pool is located in the hills and is an old style mud buttom. Of course, it is long abandoned, but still sits calmly in a field of wild mint.



Icelandic flowers are shy, humble things. They stay close to the ground and wear modest colours.



On top of the glacier Dragnajökull.

(Photo credit: Lorena B.)



View from the top of an extinct volcano.



Obligatory shirtless picture on top of the volcano. Actual temperature: 8 degrees celsius.



Friend and colleague Lorena from Spain.





"It´s impossible to get lost in an Icelandic forest... just stand up."



Icelandic carriageway scenery > your country's



HÍ



Reykjavík as viewed from 104.



Brekkie at Grái Kötturinn (The Grey Cat).



The "Is it True?" dress that was worn by Iceland´s Eurovision contest. Damn, I must do an entry about Eurovision.



Our Fjord.