a blog

ok
so i've been meaning to do this for a while
i've been trying to write and keep in touch with everyone but it's not so easy when it get's busy.
i thought about group emails but they somehow feel more appropriate for holidays.. and i guess this is more of an optional thing for you than having it sent to your email all the time.

This first entry will be a long one i'm afraid. In the future they should be more concise.

I'm back in Iceland - Reykjavik.
I arrived yesterday morning after a rather nice day in NY. It actually felt a little bit morbid to be there by myself for a day, knowing i didn't really have time to experience the atmosphere of the city. So i tried to make the most of it and not feel obligated to do anything in particular just because i was there.
So. I had breakfast with Kirk Mullis (brother of the wonderful Jacob Mullis of Fort Wilson Riot) who was nice enough to let me stay for the night after only a few hours notice. As soon as we had finished a lovely basket of french breads with butter and jam i hurried off so as not to be late for my lunch engagement with Dr. and Mrs. Berger. Dr. Frank Milan Berger is the cousin of my grandfather. They were very fond of each other and when my grandmother was critically ill with TB Milan sent her medicine that were sill unavailable in the Czech Republic and which most probably saved her life. So it meant a lot to me to meet the old couple.. even if it was just very brief. Milan is 94 and his wife Christine is 10 years younger. I find it so interesting and fascinating to meet people who have lived for such a long time and to hear their stories. Of course we spoke about my grandfather's death and my grandmother's loss, and it brought tears to my eyes.. it suddenly felt more real than it has for a while. When Milan told me that he had lost over 60 friends and family members in the holocaust my eyes were filled with tears again, as were his, although i couldn't tell whether it was from sadness or because his eyes are old and watering up for other reasons. 60 people. It is hard to imagine.. I wonder how many will read this.. and hope none of us will have to experience such great losses in our lives.
After lunch i walked down to central park and thought about the people i had just spent over a month with in Minneapolis. It still felt like i was going to be seeing them that evening.
I didn't really feel like walking around the city like a tourist so i went down to East Village and found a tattoo place and finally had birds on a wire done on my forearm. The tattooist Herman from Malaysia didn't seem to have any opinion about what he was about to do and just went ahead with what i asked for. He worked in silence, occasionally asking me whether it didn't hurt or what i was doing in the US as Magnus 135 sat by in silence and watched, smirking slightly.
I came out feeling kind of strange but also special and soon found myself walking into a basement with a group of Asian women sitting outside smoking next to a sign advertising an hour long massage for $45. Without any words i was shown into a little booth with thin partition walls and a bench where i lay down on my stomach and covered myself with a thin towel. I didn't see the woman who came in to massage me until the end when i came out to pay. She was very sweet and helped me tie my dress up at the back and offered me a seat on the couch and said something i didn't understand to another woman who was sitting there. She looked at my bandaged arm, looked me up and down, answered something in a soft voice and smiled sympathetically as i got handed a glass of water. I suspect my massouse might have told her about the scratches and bruises on my body caused by my fall out of the tree last weekend.
I then hurried back to Kirk's where Nadar, my very nice taxi driver from the day before, was already waiting, having shown up half an hour early.
On the way to the airport he offered me some of the food his mother had packed for him. It was great, traditional Pakistani cuisine and a sandwhich, much better than anything i would have gotten on the airplane and filling enough that i didn't have to find out. People are so kind!

I arrived at 6am and had my first experience of jet lag. It wasn't too bad.. although i just heard that some guys who were playing poker at my cousin's house last night while we played pictionary assumed i was stoned when i guess i was just tired.
It is now Sunday afternoon/evening. I am sitting in my mothers kitchen as i write this. Today i spent some time in my flat where i haven't been in a long time. It was left in a bit of a state by the boys who were living there so i am cleaning and getting rid of various junk and furniture, amongst other things thy left 3 sofas and 3 televisions! ? I am planning to move in there next week when i get back from Skíðadalur and then hopefully when Freyr comes back from Minneapolis we will tear down some walls and do some other work on it before i leave the country again. I am looking forward to staying in my own place for a little while.

This has all been leading up to talking about my stay in Minneapolis.
But where to begin. I'm not quite sure how to write about this experience.. it was so vast and incredible.
I think i will give myself a few more days to digest the experience before i publish anything about that..