Fraters Libertas

Where The Hot Springs Flow

(Editors note: my earlier promise of a post on Iceland on Sunday and London on Monday was ridiculously optimistic. Chalk it up to jet lag. Iceland today, London Thursday.)

Iceland is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Or maybe it's a Jenga wrapped in a Rubik's Cube inside a Wuzzle. Let's just say it's an unusual place that begs many a question. Such as:

WHY?
As in why would anyone decide that this barren, craggy rock would be a good place to live? It's cold, remote, and nearly devoid of life. Yes, even worse than Green Bay. In the winter the sun makes a perfunctory appearance like a hurried guest at a party he didn't really want to attend in the first place.

"Yeah, well, it's been great and all Iceland (glances down at watch) but I really have to get going now. You know Mrs. Sun is at home with the kids..."

While we were in the country, the sun rose at 9:30am and set by 3:30pm. Can you say Seasonal Affective Disorder?

And then there's the water. It's not just that you don't want to drink the water. You don't want to brush your teeth or bathe with it. There's something about the noisome odor of sulfur that leaves you with that not so fresh feeling right after you step out of the shower. Not many things in this world can smell worse than a locker room of hockey players immediately after a game, but the sulfuric steam that arose from the showers had us gagging and gasping for breathe.

WHO?
As in who are these stern looking Nordic looking types who have decided to live in this harsh land? Sometimes Minnesotans are accused of being cold and reserved. Compared to your typical Icelander however, your average Minnesotan comes off like Ricky Ricardo on ecstasy. Note to Syl Jones: these are the true "ice people".

Tourism is the second leading industry in Iceland and the locals grudgingly accept that their livelihood depends upon it. Service is polite but by no means friendly. They'll take your money but they're not really all that thrilled to have you around. Sometimes you get the feeling that just underneath the surface there lurks an ancient malevolence and that given the chance, they'd just as soon cleave your head with a broad axe then bring you another beer.

In some ways it's understandable that the men are a tad resentful of fereigners. After all scores of horny American and British men descend on Reykjavik on the weekend, hoping to pillage and plunder the very healthy stock of Icelandic womanhood. And if you prefer blondes Iceland is the place for you. But be warned. Although the drinking age in Iceland is twenty, I have it on good authority from a few of my teammates that many of the quite fetching Icelandic gals out on the town are a good deal younger than they appear to be.

WHAT?
As in what the farg does that mean? Icelandic is described as an Teutonic language and has changed little over the years. Unlike languages such as German or Dutch it is completely incomprehensible for those not fluent in it. I mean you can't pick up anything that sounds remotely familiar. It is a totally foreign tongue. You want to ask for directions? Try pronouncing this street name: Skolavoroustigur.

WHEN?
As in when do these people sleep on the weekend? On Saturday night we located the closest thing to a sports bar in Reykjavik in order to watch the Oilers and Canadiens face off in the Heritage Classic ( this was classic). Luckily enough the bartender was able to dial up CBC and, unlike hockey fans in the U.S., we were able to enjoy it live. Live at around 12:30am that is.

When we arrived at the bar around midnight there were only four or five other customers. Two young men were throwing dice on the other side of the bar from us and, thinking it might be some kind of traditional Icelandic game of chance (started by Vikings with runic symbols carved on the bones of their slain enemies no doubt), one of my teammates ventured over to expand his cultural horizons. And what was this ritual contest, passed down through the generations by their forbearers, that they played? Yahtzee. That's globalization for you.

After the game started the bar began to fill up, although none of the natives appeared at all interested in watching it. At around 1:30am a DJ started spinning tunes and the dance floor slowly but surely became the center of attention. By 2:30am it was on and the place was jumping. Jumping to the beat of horrible Euro-techno crap. The Icelanders, like most continental Euros, have a love of songs that chant the same few lines over and over with a pounding back beat. See The Macarena, The Ketchup Song and Hey Baby if you don't know of what I speak (and consider yourself lucky).

As the night wore on the stream of new customers continued unabated. After the game ended, those of us with a shred of common sense decided to call it a night. We did have a game at 10:30am after all. It was 3:30am when we exited. And people were still coming into the bar. On the walk back to the hotel the streets were teeming. At some of the more popular clubs, lines stretched outside as young Icelanders waited to get in. One of the guys on our team was from New York City and he was impressed enough to comment, "I thought New York was a late night town".

HOW?
As in how does this place or more specifically its economy work? Iceland has one of the highest per capita incomes in the world. And Reykjavik is one expensive city. It takes quite a few Krona to get around town comfortably. The exchange rate was something like 73 Krona to the dollar. Try that math calculation at 2:45am after you're had seven or eight Viking beers and the bartender wants 600 kr to pour you another one.

But other than fish and cheap sources of power it has few natural resources. Fishing is the most important industry yet only 10% of the population participate in it. And it did not appear that there were many international corporations to provide jobs. Yet most Icelanders seem to be doing quite well. What gives?

Well, at dinner on Saturday night a group of us were discussing this and came to the following completely unproven and probably unsupportable conclusions:

-Reykjavik had very few chains. We assumed that the government must discourage them through taxation and/or red tape and encourage locally owned businesses in the same manner. Or the small Icelandic market is under the radar screens for international companies. Either way it appears that most of the money spent in Iceland stays in Iceland.

-Jobs pay well. You don't tip waiters/waitresses/bartenders in Iceland (which is reflected in their level of service) but they appeared to have a high enough salary to make a decent living at those jobs. If it is not mandated through some sort of "livable wage" law it is a part of the social contract that the country has agreed upon.

-High taxes serve to redistribute wealth and equalize incomes. We didn't have any stats to back up our theory (and I'll be damned if I'm going to research it now) but we guessed that those at the top end of the income bracket get hammered. Which helps to insure that while there are very few of the extremely rich, everyone gets a piece of the pie. Health care is covered 100% by the government and even the church is subsidized by it.

-Restrictive immigration serves to limit competition for jobs and keeps wages up. Although there has been more foreign immigration in recent years, it's quite easy to turn the tap on or off at any time depending on the need. You can't exactly sneak into Iceland.

For all we know, we could be way off base but Iceland appears to be a small scale example of socialist/protectionist policies that actually work. Don't tell the left or all we'll here is how we should be more like Iceland.

It's a hard place to get a handle on. Lying between Europe and North America, you can see elements of both cultures in play. The statism of Europe along with bits of the rugged individualism of the U.S. I wish I could say that it was the best of both worlds.

I already mentioned the God awful music and the architecture isn't much better. Part of the reason for the drab, Communist bloc look that many buildings sport is utilitarian I suppose. When you have to deal with the cold, the wind, the rain, and the occasional earthquake style isn't your #1 objective. And they do attempt to spruce things up with a splash of color here and there. But overall the buildings in Reykjavik are bland and utterly lacking in charm.

The most striking architectural object is the Hallgrímskirkja church, which sits on a hill overlooking the city. From the outside it is an impressive and interesting structure but the interior is colorless and barren. Very modern. Very European. Very boring. Very Lutheran.

And Iceland is a very Lutheran country with 88% of the population checking that box on the census form. They are even proudly so, which is a bit of a rarity in today's "enlightened" age of secularism. In fact if the war against the Islamists goes badly south, Iceland may end up being the last bastion of Christianity between Europe and the U.S. Those of you who are avid Risk players can appreciate its strategic value.

Iceland already has played a role in geopolitical history, although it seems sadly unappreciated. The house where Reagan and Gorby met in 1986 at a summit that spelled the end of the Cold War for all practical purposes, is in Reykjavik. All that commemorates the site today is simple plaque that states that a meeting to discuss peace took place there between the world leaders. I would like to see the house turned into a museum devoted to the Cold War and the plaque changed to:

"This the place where Reagan spanked Gorby's ass raw with a rolled up SDI blueprint until the Commie begged for mercy thereby signaling the ultimate triumph of the United States in the Cold War".

But that's just me.

By the way my hockey team finished third out of eight teams in our level. Not bad for a morbidly obese guy who hangs with Ed Asner.