new norms

Living in any new place, even if it's just a different city in the same country, brings up all kinds of weird differences in the little details of the normal lifestyles. For example, the other day on my second foray to IKEA for new-house stocking up, I marveled that every single towel, washcloth, dishrag, and teatowel had a little loop or strap for hanging. The ones that didn't had the product label sewn in such a way to make it hook-friendly. All this time I've been folding my towels and hanging them on a bar, or just hanging without the benefit of this feature, these people up north have been throwing loops on their stuff and hanging like mad. My Icelandic friend K said it was an "of course" here, that towels and washcloths come with loops. Personally, I'm not fond of this storage technique since the soggy towel gets all bunchy and doesn't dry properly, but maybe there's some Swedish invention that takes care of that too.

Another new norm is the shift in what default flavors are. If someone offers you a breath mint here, chances are it's going to be licorice, and even more likely, salt licorice. This flavor reigns supreme, and is available in toothpaste as well as gum, creepy schnapps that someone always brings on a camping or hiking trip, and the ubiquitous pastilles. I was put in Intensive Licorice Training last year when I arrived so that I would appreciate this feature of living in the north, and while the pastilles are pleasing, that schnapps stuff (a la Tópas) is always a little iffy going down.

Also, when it comes to your default meat, it's not what I'd grown accustomed to. In the States, land of big cattle ranches, chances are if the type of meat is not specified, you're getting beef. Here, expect lamb. It's in the hotdogs, it's thin-sliced and grilled for sandwiches, it's what the meatballs are made of. Just today I had ítalskar kjötbollur (Italian meatballs) that were lamb. Don't think they're making that variety down in Rome.

And finally, in another one of those from minority-to-majority experiences (like my name that is so common here but rare in the US), my blue eyes have given me that special Cloak of Seemingly Local Obscurity. After coming from a place where I was often questioned on whether those contact lenses I wear are colored (of course that's the only explanation for blue eyes, right?) I'm in the midst of calm acceptance of the ordinariness of blue eyes. Sure, it's a recessive trait everywhere else in the world but here in my office of twenty or so people, almost everyone has eyes in shades of gray, green, or blue, even those with the dark hair. When I went on that trip to Italy a few weeks ago, it was 100% blue/green in the Icelandic group I traveled with. It seems that there ARE brown-eyed folks here, but when questioned, they always have some kind of external influence- a smidgen of French or some other marauding seafaring fellow that spiced up the all-Icelandic family line.

So folks, if you want to blend in up here, buy yourself a be-looped towel, acquire blue eyes if you don't already have them, and get to those licorice candies!