“I’ve just returned from my third trip to Iceland in a year. When this comes up in conversation, I am inevitably and understandably asked why—what takes me there?…That it is clean; the streets and sidewalks and air and water are clean, unpolluted, unlittered by cigarette butts and trash and people’s spit and dog shit…That it is small—only 300,000-some people on the whole island—but does not feel small. (Or, when it does, like a sexy dress or good suit, it is small in the right places.)…That Icelanders know their history and feel part of it…That, as one Icelander explained to me, “fame has no value here.”…That one rarely sees Icelanders walking down the street or sitting in cafés or bars or cars staring into iPhones, oblivious to others and walled-off from human contact; indeed, this is the easiest way to spot an American in Iceland—eyes lowered, ears plugged, iPhone held to the face as if in anticipation of a kiss…That there is virtually no violent crime in Iceland…Finally (and this list was just a start): This is a little hard to describe, but that there is a soft, wordless gasp built into their language—haaa!—which often comes in response to something another person says (rather than “yeah?” or “okay” or “really?” or “uh-huh”). One may be at a table, gathered with family and friends for a meal, describing what one has seen or done or feels—say, for example, talking about why one loves Iceland—and all the while, from all around the table, you hear not words but these lovely, quiet, short intakes of breath: “haaa … haaa … haaa …”…It is as if the sound of wonder is central to being Icelandic. The sound of breath being taken away.”
~ Bill Hayes
Read entire post and see additional photos @ The Virginia Quarterly Review