Notes from Abroad
They´ll party hard, pay later
Sunday, August 30, 2009
GVL Notes From Abroad Columnist
Iceland is by far one of the most infamous countries in the recent saga of the global economic crisis. Images of unfinished extravagant building projects and empty housing have been gracing the covers of well-known newspapers for months. One might expect this to mean there would be a grim air to the daily life, but this has not been the case.
Despite its population being only 300,000 - or roughly 3 percent the size of Michigan´s population on an island the size of Kentucky - the small capitol city of Reykjavík has been brimming with activity since I arrived in January.
This positive disposition is apparently deeply rooted in the culture, with its own special term ''Þetta Reddast,'' which translates to ''everything´s gonna´ be all right.'' Bob Marley reference intended. Whatever the origin of this mentality may be, the main suspect perhaps being the need to have developed some form of immunity to the extremely long dark winters, it has proved very refreshing to be around.
Imagine if tomorrow you received a phone call and were told your car loan was going to be doubled because a few bankers in your country got carried away with risky investments that soured. Well, that is exactly what has happened here along with a host of other unfortunate economic happenings.
Bankruptcies are at an all-time high, many food imports have doubled in line with the króna´s depreciation, and many businesses are not surprisingly doing poorly. I´ve met 19 year olds who owe nearly the U.S.´s per capita income on not so spectacular cars due to having unknowingly taken out a loan tied to foreign currency. Have they been miserable? The answer is likely yes, but it has not been easy to see.
Every holiday has been celebrated with surprising vigor, which seems to be culminating to a climax as the year comes to its end. This last Saturday the ''Menningarnótt,'' or ''Cultural Night'' drew in more than 100,000 participants to attend various concerts, art exhibits and eat at makeshift sidewalk cotton candy kiosks.
In line with every normal weekend, the celebration lasts well past 4 a.m. and even 5 a.m., which is technically closing time for those bars that choose to abide. No one seems to have gotten the memo that the country is supposedly broke. Any excuse to party is welcomed and the wallets and beer bottles seem to open effortlessly.
Possibly this behavior helped get Icelanders into this mess, and maybe it will help them get out of it, as illogical as that sounds. After all, some upbeat thinking just might suit an entire nation better than being down in the dumps.
notes@lanthorn.com
Posted 7:12 PM
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