Well hello!
It’s been a minute. I even had to think for a second how to make the bold font in the previous line—that’s how long that minute has been!
I’m back in the Land of Ice, flew in last Friday from Bangkok via Copenhagen, and was greeted with this
Quite a switch from the sunshine and sweltering heat I left behind.
There was also this
That of course is a photo of the remnants of the last eruption, with the town of Grindavík in the foreground. Like the others, this one started with a bang while I was away, to wit:
(Photo taken from our balcony and sent to me by hubby)
So the eruption has been simmering away for the last 2-3 weeks and is probably in its final stages. Until the next one. They keep a-coming, just like the scientists said they would. I think this current one is number seven but I’m not sure. Here’s a livestream if you are interested.
Anyhoo. That’s not the main news these days.
Everyone is talking about …
The presidency.
Most people were genuinely stunned when our current president Guðni Th. Jóhannesson announced in his New Year’s address that he would not be standing for re-election this year. He has served two terms already and most people believed that he would serve at least three (there is no limit here in Iceland for how many terms a president can serve) because he’s much-loved and, well, most presidents tend to hang on a little longer than that.
Sidenote: the presidency in Iceland is an office distinct from that of the prime minister. The president is effectively a figurehead, similar to the
QueenKing of England. He or she has the right to veto laws (hardly ever happens) and does things like approve elections and grant politicians permission to form a government … basically very formal, regimented stuff. Plus s/he gives the populace regular pep talks, hosts parties for various dignitaries, and goes on official visits hither and thither.
SO. There will be no more Guðni as of this June, and it seems like everyone and their grandmother’s dog is vying to replace him. The number of candidates that have sprung forth is another thing of which I have lost count (10? 20?), and there are sure to be a bunch more emerging this week as many people said they would “lie under a pelt”1 over Easter before making their decisions. These include Jón Gnarr, erstwhile comedian who became Mayor of Reykjavík after the economic meltdown, and our prime minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir. That last one was a bit of a gobsmack, and frankly is a big HELL NO from many of us because the main thing she’s managed to prove during her two terms as PM is that she’s a complete pushover who stands for none of her purported ideals. The fact that she would even consider running for this office is mind-boggling.
Also, the high number of candidates is a bit of a joke because, let’s face it, many of them are dilettantes and don’t have a hope in hell of winning. Right now, all you need to run for this office is 1,500 signatures from people who endorse you, and it has been rightly pointed out that this number has remained the same from the founding of the Republic, when the population of Iceland was around a quarter of what it is today. So maybe up the ante a little bit to weed out the non-serious candidates? IDK.
Another sidenote: Since I wrote the above this morning, there has actually been a news report stating that there are actually 60—yes, you read that right, SIXTY—wannabe presidents as of right now. That means 60 individuals have registered and are currently collecting endorsements … though it remains to be seen how many of them can drum up the 1,500 signatures.
I suppose this vast number wouldn’t be such an issue were it not for the fact that RÚV (national broadcaster) is obliged by law to give all verified candidates air time and a space on discussion/debate broadcasts. So there’s a lot of having to listen to people who perhaps don’t have all their cups in the cabinet (as the Germans would say) in order to get to real, proper debate.
On the other hand, having just returned from Thailand where people are routinely thrown in jail for criticizing the monarchy, I deeply appreciate the fact that I live in a democracy—not to mention have freedom of speech. So if this is the sacrificial cost of having that privilege, I’ll pay it.
Have you read my Little Book of Icelandic? It’s got a whole lot of stuff about how the Icelandic national character and our history is reflected in our language. Plus, it’s funny.
Icelandic idiom, meaning give something deep thought. Rooted in our history—you can read about it in The Little Book of Icelandic.