Diaries in this series: Iceland Calls :: The Icelandic Language :: Tvær Vikur Til Reykjavíkur :: Reykjavík, A City of Lights :: Reykjavík, A City of Drizzle and Dancing Clouds :: Reykjavík, A City of Cats and Gods :: Reykjavík, A City of a Storied Tongue :: Reykjavík, A City of Yuletide :: Reykjavík, A City of Hope :: Frá Reykjavík, Til Hjartans Heimveldisins :: Doldrums and Storms :: Til Kaliforníu, Til Iowa, Til Íslands
Since I was last in Reykjavík a month ago, nothing has changed and everything has changed. Oh, sure, Iceland continues to keep the Awesome going -- they since became the first western-European nation to recognize Palestine as an independent state (against US pressure), and people enjoyed a gleðileg jól -- a merry Christmas -- full of visits by the 13 jólasveinar (Yule Lads, the Icelandic "santas"), such as Ketkrókur (Meat-Hook) and Pottaskefill (Pot-Licker). These pranksters leave Icelandic children presents in their shoes (or in the case of naughty children, potatoes), and on the 24th, families set down to a big family dinner, usually with a main course of pork, lamb, or ptarmigan.
Over here in America, I was met with delays and turbulent change. One, I will probably not be making it to Iceland as early as January, as I had hoped. And two, when I go, my spouse will not be going with me. I will be going alone.
(Since I'm not in Iceland right now, I'll just intersperse randomly some pictures which don't necessarily fit with the story, but still, Iceland is just awesome and worthy of pictures)
I arrive back to the United States in November after a week-long trip to familiarize myself with my new job in Reykjavík -- always a sad plane flight for me. I'm picked up by my spouse, who I had been in marital counselling with, but has been greatly looking forward to the move with me as well. I go to my US job, which is going to end soon. I share my suitcase full of Icelandic goodies with coworkers, to much enjoyment, and then finish up my last few days. On the home front, I start out my work for the company remotely, starting at half-time, and working up to full-time. As usual, I find myself disappointed with my progress on the work while my employer remains impressed; this is becoming a trend.
I receive an email from my boss, S. Subject: Smá vandamál -- "A little problem". Which turns out not to be so little in terms of delay. The Útlendingastofnun had rejected even considering my application for a residence and work permit because my sakavottorð (criminal background check) was from the local police. They need a background check from the FBI. Not wanting any delays, I try to rush out to get it in, only to find out that I have to be fingerprinted first, and that no place will be open for five days. I pass the days, then get fingerprinted and rush the application to the FBI. Later I will find out that this process can take up to eight weeks -- as much as two months delay. Great, just what I needed.
Meanwhile, I'm working myself to death over here. I'm trying to work full time for my job in Iceland, get my house inventoried and picked up, and to also work on the company that I own. It's just not working. My spouse battles depression and isn't helping much. My parents offer some support, helping hire some people for certain tasks, but it's just a small dent in the overall picture.
Then, there's an explosion. Figuratively.
I don't want to go into the details, as I don't want to say anything against my spouse when she's not present to defend herself. But I'll simply state that some things happened while I was gone in Iceland -- which had nearly broken up us prior -- which combined with some other things that I shouldn't have had to go through, led to only one inevitable conclusion: We must separate. Divorced. I just can't go through this any more.
She still wants to move to Iceland. I tell her that I'll still support her in this if she'll support me in my endeavors. We just simply can't stay together. She agrees. But in all likelihood, with her lacking work in Iceland, it seems unlikely she will be going at all.
My Icelandic learning is briefly interspersed with learning a tiny bit of Danish as I briefly date a graduate student from Denmark for a few days (until he has to go back home). He and I had had crushes on each other for three months, and he was there to comfort me after the breakup. But the timing couldn't have been worse, due to the end of his masters work. Now just before Christmas, I find myself alone again.
And still working myself to death.
I make my decision: I'm going to put my work on my company on hiatus. It's the worst possible time. It could be the end of the company. But I just can't do it any more. I tell my employees that the main focus of my work for the company for now will be to help them out in whatever way I can, to save face with their contacts or whatever they need.
I get home, and finally... a bit of relief. Back into the doldrums, but in ever so slightly calmer seas. Soon, hopefully, I'll hear back from the FBI and get the wind back into this boat's sails.