Time Magazine: 10 Ideas that Are Changing the World

And #3 is...worth checking out.

The whole article is interesting, but I was amazed to see this in the top ten.

This is how we feel (kind of)

The other night we came back from Icelandic class and proudly told Dagny (who babysits for our evening class), "eg hef rum i svefnherberginu"---"I have a bed in my bedroom." We are able to have such riveting conversations at this level, and it reminded me of this video:


I think this might only be funny if you've studied Spanish...

Saturday morning

We are pitiful...

Well, it happened again. This time-- only worse. It was Wednesday night, and we were having company over for dinner. I needed a shower, but I hate showering if I haven't worked out yet that day. Yes, I know that's a little neurotic, but I somehow feel like I don't deserve a shower unless I earn it by sweating. So, I put on sweats and went out the door of our apartment to put on my shoes which were outside in the hallway. Colby followed me out the door to discuss something with me while the girls were running back and forth, in and out of the door way. We told them to stay inside the apartment because they were being loud, so they complied obediently....shutting the door behind them. As soon as the door slammed shut, Colby and I jerked our heads to look at each other with wide eyes...the door's default mode is always set on lock.

For the first few seconds, there was just the stunned silence of realizing that our keys, our cell phones, our....CHILDREN!!!.....were all inside the apartment and we were locked out. The denial stage: this cannot be happening to us. You can guess how the conversation exchange between Colby and I went as we entered the anger stage: "Now look what you've done!" Next, enter the bargaining stage, where we make every attempt to teach Haley how to unlock our door. She needed to stand on a chair, and turn the lock all the way to the right in order to free us from the disaster. I could hear Darcy in the background, jiggling Colby's keys and trying to fit them in a key hole. "Darcy....no....you don't need keys....Darcy...STOP!" We watch from behind the door as Haley is wiggling the door handle, completely ignoring the lock that is right above it. Next thing I hear is Darcy with her battery-operated magic wand attempting to cast a spell on the door. When that didn't work, she starts pounding and trying to kick the door down. "Okay...Darcy, that's not going to help honey...Darcy...NO!!...Darcy, you need to go sit on the blue chair." I shake my head in disbelief while Colby is trying to enforce a time-out from behind a locked door. Haley is crying at this point, way beyond her frustration level.

Okay, time to try something else. Colby gets a new idea. "Haley, try to unlock and open the patio door! If you can go on the patio and throw the keys down, I'll go outside and catch them." The patio door?? I can't even unlock the patio door...this is impossible. For the next ten minutes, Colby attempts to enact his idea, and I have moved on to asking neighbors for help. No such luck. The neighbors don't have the number for our landlord, Haley cannot unlock the patio door, Darcy will not stay on time-out, and I have entered the depression stage. I picture our guests Jon and Marissa arriving, and us still in the hallway. Colby borrows the neighbor's car to try to find the landlord while I am left to wallow in my misery. Finally, I have entered the acceptance stage, and make up a tentative plan in my mind, instructing Haley how to get them bread and peanuts for dinner, while we have take-out pizza with our guests on the other side of the locked door.

Somehow, after close to an hour, I muster up the strength to have Haley come to the door and try to unlock it again. Just as the neighbor, on the phone, locates a business that REMOVES doors for us, the miracle occurred. I have no idea how she did it, and she has not been able to do it since, but somehow she unlocked the door. Darcy was freed from time-out, and the reunion was dramatic, as expected. Before I moved on to quickly making sweet potatoes and meatballs for our guests, I made sure to put the number for door removals in the fake plant outside our door.

The Doodler

Darcy has been interesting to watch lately. After we had been here a week, she began to revert a little bit which is a very normal thing for kids to do in transition. She was a little more whiny, a little more needy, and began to ask if she could watch a video that we used to get from the library called "Baby Songs" because she was a baby again. I had been prepared for this kind of behavior and was warned that she may starts to have lots of accidents again. Instead of having accidents, however, Darcy had been constantly telling us that she has to throw up. Before meals, after meals, during rest time, the constant reminder is... "But, I might throw up!" Not trusting her claims but wanting to appease her, we finally started giving her a barf bag to carry around. That, in conjunction with a little water in a medicine cup, has appeared to have a placebo affect and cure her. She has been picking up language a lot and it is adorable to hear her bravely try new phrases. She has come a long way since our first day here when Andres and Lilja were over, helping us move in. After hearing them speak in Icelandic a bit, she looked up at me smiling and remarked with perfect ego-centrism, "They are saying the wrong thing..."

Life in the Middle #2

"And this icelandic phrase just means, Thanks for the foot. You say it as a courtesy after meals ."

Well that's wierd, I thought, Why in the world would you say thanks for the foot after a meal. Is there some sort of old cultural explanation to this? I have got to ask a question on this one.

"So are you saying that "Takk fyrir matinn" means thanks for the foot and you say it after a meal? Is that like our vocabulary word maturinn, the foot?"

"Yes, maturinn means 'the foot', it is with the article. It is deifinite. Here it just is matinn, or foot. Thanks for the foot."

I watch as Annie flips to the page in her notebook where she has drawn a wild picture of the human body and adds the parts as we learn them in class. Beside the foot she writes in 'maturinnn'. This just isn't making any sense to me. Why do they thank someone for the foot after the meal.Usually if we have wierd phrases like this he gives some historical explanation about how the phrase developed, why isn't he doing it for this one. I have to ask again, maybe he didn't understand me?

"So does this come from some history of people eating sheep feet or something, that explains why they say, "Thanks for the foot" instead of "Thanks for the food?"

"I don't understand what you mean. That's what I'm saying, "Thanks for the food (pronounced foot). It is something you eat,I don't know what you mean about sheep feet. The word is matinn, it means food (foot)."

"Ok, so 'matinn' means food and 'maturinn' means foot."

"No, they are the same word, they mean food (foot). One is indefinite. One is definite."

Oh, now it is making sense. I heard him wrong on the same word in two different lessons. Annie, the teacher, and I all realize what has happened and we begin to laugh. I look over and Annie is scratching her label out on her picture of the human body with a sigh.

Language students hear the darnedest things. Or was that, Kids say the darnedest things. Or maybe being a language student is just like being a kid again.

Life in the Middle #1

Right now we are in the no-man's land between two cultures. We are not living and participating in our culture of origin and we can only sort of participate in the culture we now find ourselves in. If you haven't experienced it, you should just know that it comes with interesting experiences. I was reminded of Jesus words that unless you become like a little child you cannot enter into the kingdom. Much has been discussed in commentaries and books about these words, but a few weeks desiring to acquire life in a new culture explains it better than any sermon. With two weeks of language class under our belt, I now have the communication ability of a 1.5 year old. I can name some items. I can identify some actions. I can sort of introduce myself. And I may be able to tell you how I'm doing.
So what happens when a 29 year old tries to use what little he knows of Icelandic to buy coffee at the cafe. He ends up saying something along the lines of, "I WANT ME SOME COFFEE!" I was thinking...that's about how Darcy orders, but that would be another post.

Welcome to Europe...

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Icelandic culture, nudity is the norm here. In the locker rooms at the gym and the pool, there is no hiding anything from anyone. It has been interesting to take the kids swimming here. Last time we were here (in 2007), they were too young to remember anything, so this is all new for them. Last night we entered the locker room all bundled up in our winter gear and Haley stopped dead in her tracks, made a loud gasp, and --with jaw and eyes gaping wide—pointed at a rather large, naked woman in the locker room. I put my hand over her mouth before anything could come out and pulled her aside to our locker. As we were getting ready, there were the expected comments from Darcy’s abnormally loud voice, “HALEY!! I see your Naked BUTT!” and the sideways glances from everyone else. Icelanders are, by nature, incredibly quiet people…and Garman girls are, by nature….not. I feel like a circus show everywhere we go. For instance, when we finally got in the quiet pool, Darcy pointed at a boy wearing a Speedo and blurted out, “Daddy! Dat boy is wearing panties…Dat is SO silly!” Oh Lord, please help that poor boy to not speak English.

Haley, The Coloring Queen

Haley has been improving on her coloring skills since we have been in Iceland. She mainly sticks to an Equine theme.

Sunday Photos

This is where we live.

This is the distance from our door to the bus stop.This is our ride.

And I just liked this set of windows.