"SHE WAS A KNOCKOUT!"
Trip Start
May 20, 2000
1
2
16
Trip End
Aug 19, 2000
Reykjavik,
Iceland
Saturday, May 27, 2000
week here. Other than the fact that my ATM-card
doesn´t work at Icelandic ATM´s and I can´t get any
money, things are going well. Remember that Icelandic
girl, Soley? Well, less than 24 hours after I´d met
her, I was seeing her in her underwear...Way to go,
Justo!
No, no, no. Don´t get me wrong, I was actually
looking at a magazine when I saw Soley in her
underwear. It seems she´s a model, a.k.a. "Hiphopp
drottning Islands" (which means "the hip-hop queen of
Iceland"). I´ve only run into her briefly (but not in
our briefs) since that first night.
But I have been making friends fast. Icelanders
won´t say hello to you on the street, but once you
give them a reason to speak with you, they´re very
friendly. For example, I stole some guy´s chair the
other night, and ten minutes later he was inviting me
to the Vestmann Islands - which he claims to be the
most beautiful place on earth. (Though I don´t know
if the invite or the boasting of the islands was just
the alcohol speaking...nevertheless, I´m gonna show up
on his doorstep in a week with my things packed and
ready to go!)
Actually, I think in my case I have mostly pity
friends. Everybody wonders why I´m in Iceland, by
myself, with no job or place to stay, and very little
money. I don´t blame them for wondering that. But,
they all want to help me out. Considering the
country´s population and the wads of phone numbers
I´ve amassed, I must have half of the country looking
for housing and jobs for me.
When I look for jobs on my own, it´s tough
because I´m trying to decipher these 15-letter words
that don´t exist according to my translating
dictionary. I´m still working on the language, and
I´m finding the best teachers are dubbed cartoon
shows. Let me tell you, watching the Muppet Babies in
a foreign language is a TRIP! But I don´t care what
language they´re speaking...english, icelandic,
swahili - when you see Beeker look in the mirror and
get scared at his own disguise, you´re gonna crack up!
The Icelandic women are quite pretty. Mostly
blonde, thin, and with high cheek-bones. And their
biggest fan is this 28-year old, David. He and I were
with two other Americans last night, and David was so
amusing to watch. He was throwing back the beers,
starting converstions with every girl that would look
at him. But the conversations would never last long,
and he´d always come back with the same story: "Oh,
man, guys, you should´ve SEEN the girl I was talking
with. She was an absolute KNOCKOUT! And, boy, I
talked with her for a little while and it turns out
she´s married! Can ya´ believe that?" At first, we
agreed with his idea of a knockout, but by the end his
taste in girls had become shameless. When he left the
bar empty-handed, my friend Pete tried to comfort him:
"Geese, David, you sure have an incredible knack for
finding the married women."
I must say, I can´t hang with the Icelanders when
it comes to partying. I went to bed last night at
four, while hundreds of people were still lined up to
get into clubs. It´s so cool, though, to have
complete light at four a.m. The Arctic sun really
gives these people energy.
One thing the Icelanders can´t do is dance. I
know, I know what you´re thinking: "But, Justin, YOU
can´t dance!" That´s true, I haven´t forgotten. But,
these people just jump around erratically, waving
their arms in the air like infants. Someone needs to
teach this country how to dance!
...not me, though, of course.
later, Justin
