Entry 4: June 25, 2008

For those who are like me (i.e. Southern) this is what a glacier that’s covering a volcano looks like. I’d expected white and blue, a mix of ice and snow, but there was a lot of soot and rock mixed in with the ice. I also discovered another little tidbit anyone wishing to visit a glacier needs to know: it’s a lot easier to get up than it is to get down. Either way can be slippery, but going up requires a tad less concentration. You just look where you’re going, try to prop your foot against a ridge of ash, and pull up.

On the way back down you find something you’d seen before but hadn’t actually taken into account while climbing—the large crevices that look like icy, open jaws of death scattered all along the glacier. Well, maybe it’s not quite that bad, but when you slip on your way up you can gain control by grabbing at something or someone. More importantly, slipping on the way up simply means that you’re slipping a little on ice, i.e. you can avoid the crevices quite easily. Slip on the way down and you’re in for a grand adventure.

It was fantastic to climb up the glacier, thinking how easy it all was, and then looking back down, wondering how to return to the bottom in one piece. While slipping on my way back down I began to realize just how dangerous and how close those crevices actually were. Whoops. Mind you, most of our group handled it with style. I, on the other hand, am the type of Southern gal who refuses to drive when there’s a threat of snow or ice. So, needless to say, I heaved a huge sigh of relief once I got back down to the bottom. I will definitely climb a glacier again, but next time, I will take a walking stick (and a rope, and a first aid kit, and ice gear, and, well, you get the point…) It’s time to start packing for home.

Iceland has been a beautiful and amazing place, and I am truly grateful for such a wonderful experience. Who knew that folks from a place called Iceland could give such a warm welcome? Thanks to everyone at Skalholt for giving us such a wonderful home away from home. I can’t wait to come back!

Entry 3: June 10, 2008

Friday and Saturday were wet days in Iceland, but both days were absolutely wonderful. Friday we went to Gulfoss, a legendary waterfall where treasure is supposed to be hidden. Though we didn’t find gold, we found a natural treasure in the waterfall itself. To stand near that much rushing power, to realize the force of water barreling past you, is absolutely awe-inspiring.

Saturday was also spent in the rain, but this time we were in Reykjavik, touring museums and doing our best to boost the local economy. One particular museum, The Culture House, had two amazing and very different exhibits. On the first floor we saw ancient manuscripts. Many of these manuscripts were sagas or religious texts from medieval times. The intricate handwritten volumes were absolutely stunning. Two floors among an exhibit of older items was an exhibit of something new—the Surtsey eruption. Surtsey’s volcano erupted for almostfour years in the 1960’s, and the remainder of that eruption became a living science project. Film footage of the volcano was shown near displays of birds and plants from the area during and after the eruption. Watching the rebirth of an island, even on film, is absolutely amazing. The volcano Hekla is only a few miles from Skalholt where we are staying. Because we are at a safe distance, we have been hoping desperately to see how an eruption looks first hand. The signs for eruption are there: the water around Hekla has dried up and she’s puffing away. Who knows what we’ll get to see while we’re here? Anyway, it’s off to a glacier this weekend. Bless, bless!

This place is beautiful and mystical. I’ve written several poems since arriving. What a wonderful way to court the muse! I should travel more often! My works aren’t like the great poets, but I have to try my hand at poetry. The land of fire and ice is too inspiring. The land is amazing as are the Icelanders, who have greeted us with open arms and warmth and kindness. If there is a Heaven on earth, it is probably Iceland. Here’s some of what I’m working on. It’s hard to put this place into words, but I’m happy to try.

Orienting Myself in Iceland
by Claire McElvaney

Lost
            yet standing still
with a sun that wanders
just like me
It moves sideways to the earth,
a slanted path that’s hard to follow

Adrift
            on solid ground
where waving hills of grass and rock
trip and stumble in the distance
just like me
Fields ripple like the ocean
trying to drown me in their shallows

and I go so willingly

The Bog
by Claire McElvaney

I walked off of the path
and into a bog
I was sucked in by the earth’s
mud and moss mouth
It tried to swallow me whole
and I went deeper when I struggled
so I surrendered myself
and that stopped my sinking
I saw a sharp rock
that stood out before me
and reluctantly grabbed it
There seemed no other option
I pulled myself up inch by inch
slow and steady
with a new patience
and when I took my time
the bog let me go

Entry 1: May 31, 2008

On the way to Reykjavik “Alice in Wonderland” was being read over one of the airline’s listening stations. Was this foreshadowing perhaps? While listening to a tale of a fantastic journey in a magical land, I was actually heading towards my own adventure. We entered a land that seemed like a dream. As Iceland came into view, steam came off the island. It was as if the green earth was on fire, calling us in with sulphuric smoke signals.

We’ve seen glaciers and steam plumes, and boiling mud pots. The mud pots are bubbling water and mud mixed in with the ground. Even the ground itself is strange. Imagine giant concrete gumdrops covered with rocks and tall grass. The ground is not forgiving, but walking it makes you feel like you’ve accomplished something.

Church was wonderful, and reminded me of home. Though the minister spoke in Icelandic, the service was familiar, similar to the Episcopal services I grew up with. As a gesture of welcome the church included an English language hymn, “What a Friend I Have in Jesus”. It was all I could do not to cry for missing my home and family. The children’s choir sang so beautifully that I didn’t care that I didn’t understand all the words. I would have gladly listened for hours.

This is what has meant the most so far. We are in a very strange land, so far from what we know, yet many things are the same. The church is familiar, the people are friendly, and outside is beautiful and mystical all at the same time. Learning to sleep during constant daylight has been disorienting, but I came to try something different. Trust me, when you wake up at three in the morning and it’s still light outside, that’s as different as it gets. The rooms here are comfortable and efficient, but the skylights make certain that we see the sun all the time. Thanks to whoever invented the sleep mask!

Thanks also go out to Dr. N and Dr. G. Despite long lines, the joy of customs, and having to help us get settled, Dr. G has been cheerful and encouraging. She’s managed to keep smiling, even when the rest of us were too tired to smile at all. But the “thanks of the day” goes to Dr. N. As you’ll see from the pictures, he courageously tried to make a bridge for us. More importantly, he tested it first.

In case anyone is wondering, the drainage ditches work just fine. We’re off to tour the church here before walking towards town. Although I’m tired, I can’t wait. Between all the surprises the land has to offer and the cool weather, this place is just amazing. I can’t wait to bring my family here. Who knew one could find paradise in Iceland?