Warming up to Iceland pt. II

Earthquakes! Earthquakes! Earthquakes!

It all got considerably wobbly in the last week of February. And by all, I really mean all. The Great Icelandic Earthquake Swarm of 2021 started then with quite some excitement and thrill for me. I was in Icelandic language school in downvillage Reykjavik during the first and biggest shock so far (magnitude 5.7). The teacher immediately made us jump under our desks and stay there. After about half a minute we got the all clear to get up again. One of my first thoughts were about me being one very lucky bastard to have survived. I had not shaved and dressed super carelessly that morning, so I would have been stuck in a really miserable ghost outfit until the end of time, if the building had collapsed and I died in the process.

There were a couple more trembles later that morning, but class continued. Naturally we learned A LOT of new vocabulary regarding quakes, volcanos, cracks, lava-fields, lava flow and all things related. It made me look forward to the day they will issue the long awaited Icelandic Trivial Pursuit “Geology” extension pack very much. All that knowledge will finally come in handy for collecting tiny plastic cheese wedges. 

I think the most important takeaway was that you should not try to run out of the building. Apparently most injuries happen from things falling off the ceilings or walls while you’re running for safety. So staying under a table is really the best place.

Before that the only ceiling I have ever noticed was at my dentists. Now I check the ceiling of every room I enter, while also instantly memorising the strategic locations of all the sturdiest tables. I’m trying not to stay under roof windows or glass lamps and make sure my daughter does not play too close to shelves while the earthquake swarm is still swarming, on and on. 

As a side-consequence you can’t help but becoming aware of the amount of ugly lampshades in our world, especially those from the 80’s and 90’s with gold bits or flowery glass decors. You know which ones I mean. Yeah. Exactly. That foggy glass one you’re thinking about right now… can you see the shadows of the three dead flies collected in the bottom? Those are everywhere! 

Of course you get more and more used to the ongoing wobbling and quake fatigue sets in. Where in the first one or two days I would have been whatsapping my whole family in all detail about the fact that a 3.7 earthquake just happened. I now refuse to lift a finger for anything below 5.0.  I might maybe lift one ass cheek slightly, fart, and then laugh viciously: “You were a lousy 4.2. AT BEST, you little shit!”

The continuation of hundreds of trembles per day has another effect: You get slightly sea sick and sometimes I feel quite nauseous towards the evening. Nobody believed me when I mentioned that first, and so I had to solve that disagreement like any other: Through Wikipedia! I looked it up, found it, pointed my finger on the screen where it said “earthquake sickness”, and got to declare loudly and extra smugly “end of discussion!” I might have even crossed my arms, lifted my chin, and closed my eyes so high was the level of satisfaction I got out of that. 

The avid reader might have wondered throughout this piece “how come this really good looking but really, really old author is so smooth and full of worldly sophistication in tossing around magnitude figures and estimates?” The short answer is of course “Earthquake Bingo”! (Might trademark later). My almost wife and I taped a sheet of paper on the wall (obviously in a very safe corner, so it won’t cause much damage should it fall down during a hefty one) and then every time an earthquake occurred we wrote our magnitude guess down. Then we compared it with the official results from the Meteorological Service, which are usually published within 15 minutes of the event. Whoever guessed closer, wins. 

All I can say: God am I tired of winning! But then the game also got boring for both of us only two days after inventing it and we stopped at 15 rounds with a very clear 8-7 overall win for me. The only bet outstanding now is about when this will all end. Most possibly with an eruption, when the magma that is causing most of the seismic activity will be coming to the surface and therefore magically turn into lava somewhere around 30 km southwest from us. Lilja (my ‘almost wife’) has her money on March 30th. I am more pessimistic and wrote “when we are abroad” on the super safely attached bingo board.

It makes me cry a bit on the inside when I think about the things I will miss by not being here for the grand finale: the chance to grill a delicious sausage over real lava whilst gently singing “Mr. Lavaman” by Shabba Ranks (“SHABBA!”) to myself and the delicious sausage. Or not being able to post a picture of a sweet little kitty which I planned to rent poking a woollen ball with her tiny fluffy paw as there is a liquid fire fountain going off in the far background. The ultimate instagram jackpot! Mad viral content. I’m sure that would get somewhere between 11 and 15 likes - AT LEAST! Maybe even as much as 18, but of course we will never know…
Life. A never ending stream of disappointments!

Update:
Well informed sources are telling me now that there is a new volcano which started ejaculating. It all happened after I submitted this story to the super strict editors of the online magazine you’re reading.
That has now the following consequences:
- My almost wife won the big volcano bingo! Since this piece will be made public, I’ll have to pretend that I am happy for her. Which I do here now. I’m happy for you!
- I will have to rent a photogenic, fluffy kitten from some rent-a-kitten place. Not sure yet, but I bet there is one in Skeifan!

Photography by María Guðrún Rúnarsdóttir.