Iceland to Internship

Iceland was great, really fantastic, I lived hard and had six incredible days clambering over glaciers, hiking over lava fields that reminded me more of the moon than of the earth, watching seabirds swoop in and out of their cliffside homes, soaking in remote hot springs and standing awe-struck at the power of four enormous, thundering waterfalls. I ate whale sushi, sheep's head, and rotten shark, strolled down the city street's of Reykjavik and the line between Europe and America at Thingvellir. Liisa and I put some serious kilometers behind us as we drove our 'too pretty for Iceland' little red rental car from Reykjavik to Hofn, Hofn to Arnarstapi, and back again to Reykjavik.

But the trip didn't seem real until my flight landed in Keflavik, and it faded back out of reality somewhere over the Atlantic.

Suddenly, I was back home.

Loud, smiling, friendly, lovely Americans everywhere.

I could understand everything - it felt invasive.

I was suddenly eating every meal out - the extravagance was almost too much.

The heat is cutting me a break this weekend, it's only in the low 80's, but still it's weird to leave the house with a t-shirt without scarves and jackets tucked into my bag.

Arrival Friday.

Saturday was clean up day, cutting the extra hair off the mountain girl, scrubbing the dirt and callouses off her feet, painting her toenails pretty pretty red, and shopping for clothes that haven't been dragged through heaven and hell and everything in between. The shopping mall - my god. Talk about culture shock.

Sunday I went with Nash, Aunt Rhonda, and Uncle Chris to the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812. Boats and barbecue and scenery bursting with Americana. Skyscrapers, flags, airshow, military displays, corn on the cob.

More culture shock - moving from impoverished student accomodation to a cushy, luxurious set up at my relatives. The towels and carpets are white and soft. The room is big, dark, quiet. I have my own bathroom and the shower is lovely. The pantry and fridge are full to overflowing. We drive in nice cars from one garage to the other and hardly notice that it's raining.