eating my yogurt with bananas and toasted pecans, looking at the promise of today from three windows. To the south, the red berries still cling to the trees in the yard, although the chatter of starlings makes me wonder how long that will last. In the north, the rain-striped skylight looks to lowering clouds huddled over Esja. It's that time of year when Iceland spends more time shrouded in rain than anything else, but when I look to the east, the clouds are punctuated with hints of palest blue. Promise for later. It's been months since I wrote since as always I think it's always the same things that I write, of the purity of the lively air here, the simplicity of the tiny town, the coziness of community rituals.
And yet sometimes I still want to remember a certain moment, often the quiet ones when it's just me, my thoughts, and the Icelandic sky. Today's full of plans for holiday shopping, visiting friends, and delicious new dinner recipes to test, but for now I'll sit here, chin in hand, and watch the bird-ballet in the rowan tree beyond the balcony.
12 November 2011
04 September 2011
daily poetry
Walking home from a cozy evening with an international group of women, Danish jazz from a colleague in my ears, I just looked northwards and caught the first glimpse of the northern lights this year. The air was still balmy and full of the smell of green, and the breeze stirred it gently across my face as I walked.
It got me to thinking about the strings of moments over the past months where I felt like I was exactly where I wanted to be, where nothing else mattered but being in that place right then. The sunny pause on a rock in the east fjords to listen to the awakening spring with A over Easter, singing Icelandic anthems in the total dark of a dripping cave on Snaefellsnes in June, the summer afternoon trekking through the northern pine forest with J & D.
It's those moments abroad, cycling beside the Pegnitz with S on a humid German Sunday, part of the fabric of activity along the river banks- rhythmic gymnasts, families barbecuing, the shouts of joy from the nearby swimming pool, the conviviality of the cafes by the path. Or, late afternoon at Katama, drowsy from the chill of the Atlantic juxtaposed with the still-warm sun. There's a book that could be read but for that moment all that matters is the sound of the surf, the sand between my toes. It's a long lunch beneath the trees in a Bavarian village, just the right amount of town square activity bustling by, the huge ancient trees above shading the tables coolly. It's meeting a friend's new son for the first time, skipping from air conditioned lobby to air conditioned lobby on a sweltering Boston afternoon. It's the run through the wonders of Regents Park in torrential rain.
I'm not sure where this is all headed, but for now I'm stringing these beaded memories together, a year of change and snapshots I hope I never forget.
It got me to thinking about the strings of moments over the past months where I felt like I was exactly where I wanted to be, where nothing else mattered but being in that place right then. The sunny pause on a rock in the east fjords to listen to the awakening spring with A over Easter, singing Icelandic anthems in the total dark of a dripping cave on Snaefellsnes in June, the summer afternoon trekking through the northern pine forest with J & D.
It's those moments abroad, cycling beside the Pegnitz with S on a humid German Sunday, part of the fabric of activity along the river banks- rhythmic gymnasts, families barbecuing, the shouts of joy from the nearby swimming pool, the conviviality of the cafes by the path. Or, late afternoon at Katama, drowsy from the chill of the Atlantic juxtaposed with the still-warm sun. There's a book that could be read but for that moment all that matters is the sound of the surf, the sand between my toes. It's a long lunch beneath the trees in a Bavarian village, just the right amount of town square activity bustling by, the huge ancient trees above shading the tables coolly. It's meeting a friend's new son for the first time, skipping from air conditioned lobby to air conditioned lobby on a sweltering Boston afternoon. It's the run through the wonders of Regents Park in torrential rain.
I'm not sure where this is all headed, but for now I'm stringing these beaded memories together, a year of change and snapshots I hope I never forget.
15 April 2011
spring, but not
today's the day that officially we are all supposed to have removed our winter nail-tires. It's appropriately ironic that today I woke up to a white world, and since then it's been snowing on and off. The view outside my office is one of those classic Icelandic days, the sky aswirl with clouds and pierced by gentle shafts of sunlight. A crowd of seabirds has just taken off and are reeling against a dark portion of the sky. As the sun hits their wings they glint like silver glitter. The sun's warm though, and the days are already light well past 9pm. It's inevitable that the snow will have to capitulate, one of these days.
18 March 2011
So, you want to work in Iceland?
Ever since about a year into this blog, I've been getting emails from people asking me about ways to move here. They stopped abruptly at the beginning of October 2008 but always reappear in a spike during the first few months of the new year. I can't quite figure why, given how idle this blog is, but since it doesn't seem to be disappearing, this post is for all of you frustrated would-be expats. I've found that I am answering the same questions over and over again, which means it's time to make it into a post. I should preface this by saying that when I moved to Iceland it was when the banks were all hiring aggressively and when the general unemployment was extremely low. The current situation is very different. The jobless Icelanders and EU residents I know here are having trouble making ends meet, and most of the expats that made up the vibrant community that made the mood her festive are mostly gone. Every month a new friend shares the news of his or her departure, and now even the half-Icelandic couples are beginning to leave.
With that said, if you're still gung-ho about moving here, this is the advice and information I can offer. Keep in mind that this is based on my own experience moving here several years ago. Since then the visa situation has changed quite a bit, and the job market has changed even more so.
That said, there still has to be space for foreign workers, particularly ones who are handy writing in English. Given that the consumer base within Iceland is so shaky, the companies that want to stay afloat are searching for business in foreign parts if they can. If you're looking for jobs in construction, I recommend looking elsewhere, since the Icelandic construction companies are even sending their people abroad, mostly to Norway.
How to find that job is a bit of the tricky thing. The best way, given the scale of this society and how much it thrives on those personal relationships, is to actually be here in Iceland. Americans can stay as a tourist for up to three months in the Schengen territory, which would definitely give you enough time to build contacts. Although there is a Craigslist Reykjavik, nobody uses it, so finding those job leads when you're not here will probably be best attained through a website. I'm a bit rusty on the search methods lately but in my day I found a lot of information on mbl.is, in the "atvinna" section, as well as the available government jobs at this site. It's a good way to start learning some of the words in the language anyway. Now that there's google translate and plenty of handy apps to deal with this, it's much easier than it was when I was searching.
There are a few English postings on the Reykjavík Grapevine's website, but none of these are hte kinds of jobs that are likely to sponsor a visa for a non-EU/EEA employee, and then there's a nice comprehensive English-language list of companies operating in Iceland at this chamber of commerce website. I used this as a base list to look at which companies had English-language websites and would therefore be amenable to the idea of having a non-Icelandic employee. From there I actually walked into quite a few companies, introduced myself, and said I was looking for work. Although none of those panned out, I only had one experience where I wasn't welcomed and at least offered coffee and a tour. Company bureaucracy is very minor here, so it's frequently possible to talk to the main decision makers in such an informal fashion.
Should your job hunting meet with success, the next step would be to get that paperwork squared away. It's all explained on the immigration office's website, and my experience was that the Icelandic HR people (if you are lucky enough to work for a company that has one) have little to no experience filling the papers out, so it's best if you're willing and able to do it yourself. I recommend reading through before you try to move and get those bits of paper together that you need from your home country, such as the criminal record. Makes it that much easier when application time arrives.
First of all, if you're coming from the US or some other non-EEA country, as most of my would-be Iceland residents seem to be, you'll need residence/work permits. As with most countries, this means you either need to be a student (with a verified income source), in a relationship with an Icelander, or with a job here. I'm going to address the third category mostly, since that's what I did and what most people ask me about. These visas are easy enough to get if you have a willing sponsor, although the lay of the land is a bit different now than it was when I arrived some years ago. They used to be free, now are not, they used to be one-size-fits-all but now are divided between skilled and unskilled types. Of course, there's the issue of the kreppa which has the employment situation for everyone here in a bit of a question. I keep hearing about all the foreigners leaving, that the hiring fairs for jobs in other countries are jammed, that everyone's running for the ferries to Europe. I know some of these people personally, who've found jobs and are packing their things up as I type.
That said, there still has to be space for foreign workers, particularly ones who are handy writing in English. Given that the consumer base within Iceland is so shaky, the companies that want to stay afloat are searching for business in foreign parts if they can. If you're looking for jobs in construction, I recommend looking elsewhere, since the Icelandic construction companies are even sending their people abroad, mostly to Norway.
How to find that job is a bit of the tricky thing. The best way, given the scale of this society and how much it thrives on those personal relationships, is to actually be here in Iceland. Americans can stay as a tourist for up to three months in the Schengen territory, which would definitely give you enough time to build contacts. Although there is a Craigslist Reykjavik, nobody uses it, so finding those job leads when you're not here will probably be best attained through a website. I'm a bit rusty on the search methods lately but in my day I found a lot of information on mbl.is, in the "atvinna" section, as well as the available government jobs at this site. It's a good way to start learning some of the words in the language anyway. Now that there's google translate and plenty of handy apps to deal with this, it's much easier than it was when I was searching.
There are a few English postings on the Reykjavík Grapevine's website, but none of these are hte kinds of jobs that are likely to sponsor a visa for a non-EU/EEA employee, and then there's a nice comprehensive English-language list of companies operating in Iceland at this chamber of commerce website. I used this as a base list to look at which companies had English-language websites and would therefore be amenable to the idea of having a non-Icelandic employee. From there I actually walked into quite a few companies, introduced myself, and said I was looking for work. Although none of those panned out, I only had one experience where I wasn't welcomed and at least offered coffee and a tour. Company bureaucracy is very minor here, so it's frequently possible to talk to the main decision makers in such an informal fashion.
Should your job hunting meet with success, the next step would be to get that paperwork squared away. It's all explained on the immigration office's website, and my experience was that the Icelandic HR people (if you are lucky enough to work for a company that has one) have little to no experience filling the papers out, so it's best if you're willing and able to do it yourself. I recommend reading through before you try to move and get those bits of paper together that you need from your home country, such as the criminal record. Makes it that much easier when application time arrives.
If you're interested in starting language studies before you arrive, the online Icelandic course offered by the University of Iceland was a great start for me. I used it once a week for a few minutes and found that I'd learned enough to skip the intro level classes once I got here. It helps to get accustomed to the sounds of the language so you're at least familiar with pre-aspiration and the staccato rhythm of Icelandic before you arrive.
One thing I am also often asked in these emails I get is, "how difficult is it to move to Iceland? Is the winter hard?" I can't tell you that. Difficult depends on you and your concept of what is complicated. The winter's harshness depends on you too, as does your interest and ability to deal with what is definitely an island lifestyle. I still always advise coming to visit Iceland for more than a whirlwind summer tour. Come in the winter if you can and see if you still like it in the dark, in the snowsqualls, when you're stuck in Reykjavik and can't see beyond the end of your nose.
The other thing to consider is that if you're not marrying an Icelander or with an Icelandic significant other, this is a complicated place to be long-term. It's extremely family oriented, so every holiday will find you smooshing your way into a local family, cobbling together your own expat mixture, or fleeing the island. With that said, the Icelanders I have become friends with are wonderful, vibrant, interesting, intelligent and well-traveled people, and the non-Icelanders I've met are a great mix too. It's an interesting place to live and I don't regret having come here at all. It's just not for everyone.
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