From: An article
This article was originally published on June 4, 2018, by BBC Travel
This article was originally published on June 4, 2018, by BBC Travel
The Unexpected Philosophy Icelanders Live By
If Iceland were to have a national slogan,
it would be ‘þetta reddast’, (pronounced thet-ta red-ust)
which roughly translates to the idea that " everything will work out all right in the end."
** The Little Book of the Icelanders in the Old Days,
recounts some of these hardships: the long winters; extreme poverty; indentured servitude. There were volcanic eruptions, like the 1783 Laki an eruption that killed 20 percent of the 50,000-strong population, as well as 80 percent of its sheep, which were a vital food source in a country with little agriculture. There were storms that swept in and sank the open rowboats used for fishing, wiping out much of the male populations of entire towns. Things were so bad that even up through the 18th Century, 30 percent of babies died before they turned one.
Just 45 years ago, the Eldfell volcano exploded on the small island of Heimaey, spewing millions of tons of ash, engulfing 400 buildings and forcing the evacuation of all 5,000 people who lived there. And just 23 years ago, a massive avalanche decimated the town of Flateyri in the Westfjords, burying more than a dozen homes and killing 20 of the town’s 300 residents.
Maybe it makes sense, then, that in a place where people were – and still are – so often at the mercy of the weather, the land and the island’s unique geological forces, they’ve learned to give up control, leave things to fate and hope for the best. For these stoic and even-tempered Icelanders, þetta reddast is less a starry-eyed refusal to deal with problems and more an admission that sometimes you must make the best of the hand you’ve been dealt.
The phrase begins to be a little more understandable when you
find out that the first Icelanders weren’t marauding Vikings who bravely
sailed across the ocean in search of new lands to raid and tribes to
wage war upon. Rather, they were mostly Norwegian farmers and peasants
fleeing slavery and death at the hands of King Harald Finehair in the
9th Century. They so feared his wrath that they risked the 1,500km
journey across the rough North Atlantic seas in small open-hulled boats.
It’s hard to imagine those early settlers making the journey – one
undertaken with no maps or navigational tools – without a little bit of
blind hope.
“We couldn’t live in this environment without a certain level of
conviction that things will work out somehow, hard as they seem in the
moment,” Ösp said. “Þedda redast represents a certain optimism that
Icelanders have and this carefree attitude that borders on recklessness.
Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t, but we don’t let that
stop us from trying.”
With the conditions we live under, we’re often forced to make the impossible possible
Even on a day without disasters, Iceland is beholden to the forces of nature. The island moves and breathes in a way few others do; fumaroles exhale steam; hot springs gurgle; geysers belch and bubble; waterfalls thunder. The country sits on the rift between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, and those plates are slowly moving apart, widening Iceland by about 3cm per year and causing an average of 500 small earthquakes every week.
Iceland is beholden to the forces of nature
The country’s weather is just as volatile and formidable.
Windstorms can reach hurricane force, strong storms can sweep in even in
summer, and, on the darkest winter days, the sun shines for just four
hours.
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