Reykjavik - Culture

Ask an Icelander who he is, and he may well tell you (with a straight face) that he is the son of a Viking. "But the Vikings are long gone," you may say. He will probably look you in the eye, laugh maybe, and tell you that no, they are still here. These days, they just dress differently, prefer fishing to fighting, and have much better ships. If there is one thing Icelanders are proud of, it is their past.

The people of Iceland are indeed direct descendants of the Vikings. The island was settled by Vikings late in the 9th century, and genetically speaking, it has had virtually no outside influence since. Icelanders are the tallest people on Earth, and certainly very Nordic looking.

One reason why Icelanders are so attached to their past is that there is plenty to be proud of. The original settlers of this wild island were undoubtedly a hardy and industrious bunch. Compared to the rest of Europe during the Dark Ages, they were also unusually civilized. In 930 AD, a group of men gathered at Thingvellir and established their own government, which is today the world's oldest parliamentary system. While the rest of Europe was languishing in the medieval abyss, Leif Eriksson was exploring North America and the great story-tellers of Iceland were writing down the sagas, or epic poems, that are to this day the foundation of both Iceland's history and its national mythology. Perhaps the most extraordinary thing about Iceland's past, however, is that it is still alive in the language, which has been unchanged for 1000 years. It is so pure that if you hand an Icelander a copy of a saga written 1000 years ago, he will be able to read every word.

And what about Viking cuisine? Well, it's still here, too, and in the month of February you can find it in almost every restaurant. This goes back to an old feast the Vikings used to hold to celebrate the last weeks of winter. The two main delicacies are not for faint-hearted. One is a shark that has been rotting in the ground for four months, the other is ram testicles.

The scene is legendary: Friday night in Reykjavik, and hordes of besotted teens have overtaken the streets. On foot and in cars, they scream and yell, dance, and weave along with their friends. This ritual, which is far more intimidating in appearance than it is in fact, is known as the runtur. It is a spectacle similar to the "cruising" that took place in America in the 50s and 60s, though here the teens seem to be far more innocent and far more loaded. Inside the bars and nightclubs their older brothers and sisters, even their parents, doing the same thing - albeit with a bit more moderation. The runtur illustrates one of the dualities of the Icelandic soul: they work hard, and play even harder.

When it comes to play, Icelanders do nothing half way. Almost everyone here dabbles in a hobby, very often artistic in nature. Per capita, Iceland publishes more books than any other nation on Earth. On average, about 1 in 10 people will publish a book of prose or poetry within their lifetime, a storytelling tradition that goes back to the sagas of the Vikings. A stiff-lipped man in a bar might tell you he's a computer programmer, but he could also very well be a playwright or a violinist in the local orchestra. Being well-rounded is a very valued trait.

In the same vein, Icelanders like to travel. Long ago, one of the most common ways a Viking could gain fame in his homeland was to ship off to a foreign land, coming back years later with gifts and stories galore. This is still a highly respected tradition, and an Icelander who is well-travelled is referred to as someone who is "sailed." Iceland may be a remote island, but its people know the world.

One of the most breathtaking images to emerge from Iceland in the last quarter century is that of an Icelandic Coast Guard vessel defiantly shadowing a British warship, during the Cold War of 1976. At the time, the two countries were involved in a territorial dispute over fishing rights, and the photograph became a symbol of resistance against British encroachment on the island's main industry. It is all the more extraordinary when one takes into consideration that Iceland has no standing army.

Few societies exhibit such national pride. In fact, Icelanders have a reputation of being passionately defensive when people criticize their country, a trait that a few local philosophers and psychologists humorously call a national inferiority complex. The truth is that Icelanders have many reasons to be proud. They have a strong cultural heritage, and people here have achieved a remarkable quality of life. Crime is practically nonexistent, and Icelanders currently have the longest life expectancy on the planet. Visitors to the country are often astonished by its utopian aura.