Now and then I endure just a tad difficulty with Americans; those I’ve met, that is – it all turns out so odd. So many emotions, all the time, everywhere. Too many superlatives…
I’m an incredibly rigid Swedish person and I don’t particularly enjoy those public emotional cascades pouring out now and then, most of them completely in the wrong moment, of course.
It makes me feel awkward!
View from the Pearl, Reykjavik.
During the flight to Iceland, I experienced (probably for the first time in my life) a small sting of envy of their outbursts… their “Americanism”.
I was watching a whole heap of fun, informational videos about Iceland, and got totally fascinated, so I actually ended up watching the Reykjavik video twice. 🙂
In one of the videos they interviewed an American (amongst others), who had been out watching one of the glaciers. He was ecstatic, his face glowing with happiness, and my heart suddenly ached a tad; I wondered when was the last time I had been glowing like that?
When did I become so blasé?
Not so long ago I wrote a post about Angkor Wat, in which I spoke exactly about this, to become so blasé about all the magic surrounding you in the world, but you can’t even be bothered. The only thing you need to do is open your eyes and look around.
I encouraged people to hit me in the head – real hard – if I ever became that blasé, like the lady in the blog post.
A few months later I wonder if the lady in the post was me… when did my feelings disappear, when did my wonder, of how amazingly beautiful the world is, start to fade away?
View over Reykjavik from Sigurjón Ólafsson Museum.
When did most things around me become gray and stop being exuberantly green and yellow and pink and red?
Reykjavik in snow, really IS gray, but oh so beautiful…
During the bus ride from the airport in Keflavik to the city of Reykjavik I was almost in tears all the way, because the beauty of the country moved me so much.
I really wanted to bubble like a “crazy American” to vent all of my emotions raging inside of me, grabbing me, making me all jittery, kind of like when you’re in the first stages of love. But oh, no, what would people think if the mad lady in orange hair started to jump around screaming out her spring cry? People might mistake me for an American… 😉
No we can’t have that, so instead I shrugged in feigned indifference, smiling timidly when those back home asked me if Iceland was nice.
“Well, yeah, it’s beautiful!” I managed to roar, all the way from my toes, but no jittering “IT’S AMAZING!!!” or “IT’S SOOOOO GREAT!!!”
Just enough, not too much.
Why would I tell about the long walks I took in the city, which moved me so much I almost cried every day?
Why would I tell about my walk outside of Blue Lagoon on my birthday, shooting the bare landscape which didn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and I have seen a bit (although there’s so much more to see and wonder about!)?
Why would I tell it was the best birthday ever, because I got to celebrate it in a wonderful country where everything was so wonderfully amazing?
Why would I tell how fracking AMAZING Iceland actually was, when there’s simply just no words for it? Beautiful isn’t enough.
Well, wait a minute, now! Isn’t “telling” exactly what I’m doing… a tad more American style then! Finally… 😉
My favourite place in Reykjavik – Hallgrímskirkja.