In Hot Water

When I started writing this last night, we had just gotten out of the hot tub here at Gunnar’s house. In the United States, a pastor having a hot tub at home might be seen as extravagant. Here in Iceland, hot tubs are an essential part of everyday life.  While we’ve been in Iceland, I think I’ve spent more time in hot tubs than I had in my entire life in the States. We’ve already mentioned the hot tub at Skalholt—that was at a relatively modest (though very comfortable) guest house owned by the church. Kelsie told you about our trip to the heated pool and the hot tubs after we visited the President of Iceland, Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson. And the other night I had the chance to have dinner with Gunnar and Thora’s neighbors, Eirikur and Stefania. Apparently there was only enough extra food for one, and I was the only one brave enough to try saltfiskur, dried, salted, and boiled cod (which was absolutely delicious).  We had a lovely conversation over dinner, largely about Eirikur's music projects (click here for authentic viking music), but one interesting cultural note was that Eirikur left shortly after dinner for the municipal pool. His day, like that of many Icelanders, wouldn’t be complete without a dip in the hot tub before bed.

             The hot tub is a place for relaxation, sure, but it also functions something like a coffee shop, bar, or barbershop in the U.S. It is a community space, where folks gather for conversation, and the latest news and town gossip is exchanged.  This is all made possible by Iceland’s abundance of volcanic hot springs, which have given Icelanders all the hot water they could ever want for the last thousand years or so. Apparently, Iceland’s conversion to Christianity (1000 A.D.) was marked by the entire parliament being baptized in a naturally warm pool.  On our first morning here, Gunnar told us not to worry about how long we were in the shower, because in Iceland, the hot water never, ever, runs out.

            So, on Tuesday evening, after spending the day in the

area around Keflavik visiting pastors and churches in a slightly more rural area, we visited the Iceland’s hot water attraction par excellence, the Blue Lagoon. The Blue Lagoon is actually formed from the wastewater of a geothermal power plant, but locals discovered that the mix of warm water and naturally occurring minerals was both relaxing and good for your skin. Thus, a major tourist attraction was born—a luxury spa in the form of a big blue lake. Visitors are able to bathe in the magic blue water, and spread the magic white mud on their face and body, all in the name of health and beauty.  It sounds silly, but let’s face it: if the Icelanders say it will make you better looking, it must at least be worth a shot. I, for one, am not opposed to looking more like an Icelander. (On that note, I got a great deal on an authentic, hand-knitted, traditional Icelandic sweater at a Salvation Army store in Reykjavik. Gunnar’s exact words were, “Now, I’m pretty sure people will address you in Icelandic.”)

Steven and I are now Icelanders.
(Photo By Paul, stolen from Steven's Facebook)

            In addition to the spas and hot tubs, another Icelandic conversational pastime, also involving hot liquids, is coffee.  I was already familiar with the European tradition of afternoon coffee and cakes from my time in Germany, but the Icelanders take it to a whole other level. Almost every place we’ve visited, whether it be the president’s house, the cemetery, the Salvation Army, or the Bishop’s office, we’ve been met with good strong coffee and the most delicious cakes you could imagine (or, at very least, some good chocolates). It makes sense; why have a plain old meeting, when you can simply add coffee and cake and turn that boring meeting into an equally productive social event? I propose introducing this custom to the States, as soon as possible. In fact, I resolve, from this point forward, to no longer discuss any business without coffee and cake in front of me.

            I’ve been grateful to be able to learn a bit about Icelandic life over many cups of excellent coffee, and that process continued tonight. We had dinner with Arnfríður Guðmundsdóttir and Gunnar Matthíasson, and a long discussion about the politics surrounding the financial crash, the drafting of a proposed new constitution (and Arnfríður's role as part of the drafting committee), and the economy and environment of Iceland today. Arnfríður and Gunnar M. fall in a slightly different place on the political spectrum than our host, Gunnar Sigurjónsson, and I think it’s valuable to hear that variety of viewpoints. I think I’ll stop there, though. I would offer my own views on Icelandic politics, but I’d rather not land myself in, well, hot water.

O God of all wisdom and truth: We give you thanks for community and conversation, for difference of opinion and harmony of purpose. Give us open hearts and minds, and willing ears to hear the voices of those around us. In the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ we pray. Amen.