Part 1 of Iceland

February 7, 2017 <-the day of my daddy’s birthday!!!

The saying goes that if you’re always looking back, you’ll never be able to move forward. At the beginning of my trek through Iceland, I thought this was true. I’d spent the whole bus ride to the trailhead contemplating my past, and how it would all shape my future, wondering how as this adventure became a memory of my past, it would effect me as well. How one chooses to measure the past however, is truly intriguing. The English language leads us to believe that much more is present than in reality, it’s a malleable language, allowing us the freedom to determine if we grew something or had grown it, or are growing it, or will grow it, or even will have grown it. Needless to say, other languages are even more extensive than this, but that’s to show that our societal perception of time, and how it should be handled, varies, but is shaped by our language.

Ultimately, the afternoon I arrived at the head of the trail, setup my tent, already exhausted merely from the ride there, took a nap and then set off to explore a bit of the trail. Within the first 5 minutes, I’d already turned around and began looking down and around to see exactly how steep what I’d just climbed up was. Completely taken aback, and with a mouth wide open, I considered how difficult it was walking up a basically 90 degree angle, without my backpack on!!! As I began walking on the phantasmagorical foot path, I was still panting. But yet the inner turmoil inside of me, did not translate over into what I was witnessing. Everything was peaceful and quiet, and I was by myself. No one surrounded me, and I felt that I could conquer the world on my own. With that being said however, I turned around every few minutes to see where’d I’d just come from, what feat I’d just conquered, to reaffirm my accomplishments and to encourage me to keep moving on. Eventually, I turned around, walked back, and went into the hot spring to relax. Not much was on my mind except how chilly it was going to be when I got out of the hotspring!! I then paid $5 for a 5 minute shower, and went back to my tent to eat some peanut butter on a tortilla, journalled, read, and hit the sac.

The following morning, I woke up, anxious to start on the trail. I didn’t want to wait until the warden came, so I informed a woman I’d met on the busride over (when our bus broke down, apparently for the first time in Icelandic history, and we waited for another bus to swing by in the highlands of Iceland LOLS). I set out as early as I could so that I’d get a good handle on the trail before everyone on the campsite woke up and started the hike. Due to my relatively short stature, I thought if I started early enough, I might made it to the next camping site without having too many people pass me along the way. Prior to leaving for Iceland, I’d decided I wanted to have some sort of audio in my ears as I hiked so as to avoid going stir crazy from the quietness. It just so happened that over the summer, my honors seminar professor had sent me a book on tape that had really moved her, and that she thought I might gain a lot from. The name of it escapes me at the moment, but it was a book about a Syrian refugee who’d come to the United States. Hiking with this in my ears, proved to be very motivating.

With all of that being said, I did run into a number of snagfus along my first day of this adventure. First, my Osprey Water Pack was not hooked in properly, so I quickly realized that I could not access the water I needed without taking my pack off and readjusting it. I then even more quickly realized that the second time you put your pack on in a day, it’s more difficult than the first time, even if nothing has changed. I then spent so much time drinking my water as I hiked, that I learned that if I thought the second time was hard, the third time was way worse. And all of that in just the first stretch!! About a quarter of the way in on my first day, I got to another relatively steep climb, but this time, a slightly muddy one with no real gripping. I pulled out the walking stick that my dad had highly encouraged me to bring, and realized that I couldn’t get it to lock into place. Having very limited mechanical experience, and no experience with the walking stick, I wasn’t quite sure what to do to ensure that if it wasn’t already broken, that I wasn’t the culprit for having broke it. After a little while of messing with it, I saw someone approaching, and I politely asked for his assistance. Sure enough, he took it apart and fixed it. I then made it mess up again so that I could try fixing it myself before he left, and it was good because he had to show me again. But after all of that was said and done, I began my trek as though I’d never left off, greatful to have had a few minutes of unapologetic rest.

I found that while walking in solitude, I didn’t have anyone to keep up with and keep me moving (but still, fellow trekkers would take photos of you if you asked nicely), but I also didn’t have anyone to tell me to slow down and take my inhaler. Being my competitive self, I felt I had something to prove, and so I tried to move along smoothly, while still trying to absorb the moments. It’s true however, that after every climb, up or down, I would turn around and look back. Eventually, I managed to get myself behind a group of French walkers on a tour and they randomly all stopped, and sat down to eat. Quite unsure of myself, and not wanting to look like a fool crossing the river that was right next to where they rested their laurels, I decided to take my break as well. I pulled out my tortillas and peanut butter and went to town. Once they’d risen and crossed, I saw how it was to be done, and continued on. By this point, I was quite aware of all the preparation I should have done prior to setting out on this endeavour, and I was just so looking forward to arriving on the campsite. In reflection, it seems like it went by a lot faster than it felt at the time, but by mid afternoon, I’d arrived at the bottom of another steep hill, with what seemed to be a solar panel at the top. My heart rose and I bolted up the hill to see the Icelandic flag, a small hut, and lots of circles of rocks around. As I made my way down, I wasn’t reflecting too much, just trying to choose the most strategic place for my tent, which I went ahead and set up before checking in with the warden.

When I finally did make my way into the hut to check in, I was starving and freezing. The warden told me for an additional $5, I could stay inside the hut until 16:00 and use their cooking equipment. Eagerly, I took that opportunity to warm up, and to meet some of my fellow adventurers. I sat down with a group of American girls in particularly high spirits. They were some of the few who were “hut hopping,” going from hut to hut without having to carry any tent or cooking equipment at all. As I sat at the table discussing the adventure with them, I discovered...To be continued….. (Photos to come!!)

For my dad: til hamingju með afmælið pabbi
I love you!!

-Siku njema,
Beca

America Part 2

Take a moment to travel through time with me. Let’s start where we last left off. It’s the beginning of the summer and I’ve just returned home from Kenya. I’ve spent a few days in New York with my friends and a week in Virginia with my grandparents. Now I’m walking into my house for the first time in months. It smells different than it once did, a bit less like dog and more like soap. It’s pleasant to my nose, but mind boggling to my brain. The lights seem to be brighter than they once were, but I know that they haven’t been changed. That is the inner workings of the footprint imprinted on my brain, the footprint of the stars shining and the light of the moon. The footprint of feeling what darkness feels like. A footprint that can only be formed by stepping into a world with less light pollution, and more appreciation of nature, a world like Kenya. Being able to exist without all of the artificial lighting all of the time has caused light itself to appear lighter to me. Besides these moderate sensory adaptations that my body is having to sync back up with, I feel relatively comfortable with being back home. Although I’d expected to feel heartbroken and sad that my time in Kenya had ended seemingly just as it had begun, I wasn’t. I knew that a piece of my heart was left behind in Kenya, just as it was in France from my time living there, but the feeling was no longer overwhelming to me.

A fellow counselor and one of my  
               many special campers!

I sleep very comfortably in my bed that night, not exhausted so much from the adventure that has just come to a close, but rather exhausted from thinking about what was to come next. This is another marking point in my life for when things began to slowly but surely, change. I immediately began throwing myself into the workforce. With an on-call job three mornings a week, an internship three evenings, and a 9-5 job on Sundays, I kept myself busy until summer camp started. Once my first full time job (summer camp) started, I kept working in each place except for the morning on call job. I honestly feel that summer camp was the culmination of all I’ve been working on so far with my life. It sounds crazy, even as I read it back to myself in my head. But all of the exploring and adventuring I do is primarily solitary. Even though in Kenya I was surrounded by 22 other students, I set off without knowing a single one of them. I also began the summer camp endeavor solo, but after the first few days, I realized exactly how much of a group effort that it was. I had to depend on others to do their job, and I myself had to be reliable to not only my fellow counselors, but the children as well. I’ve never been too inclined to interact with American children on such an intimate level, but I guess all of the solo preparation I’d done in my life really payed off. Some of the kids were genuine pains in the ass, but others were absolutely amazing human beings, so bright and intuitive. Besides all the obvious skill sets one expects to learn from counseling at summer camp, I also learned how to be a big sister to 2 campers, and a best friend to a few others. I learned what it was like to have people look up to you and think you’re cool. Most importantly, I realized that there is so much more exploration to be done than that of an intercultural exchange. You can learn something from anyone, no matter what the age difference is, or what you think you have in common. Being able to learn from others is about way more than opening your mind- you have to open your heart too. Summer camp allowed me to give my heart fully to the campers and to grasp a new understanding for what it means to explore the world.

I was very fortunate to receive the opportunity to immerse myself completely, not only into the lives of the many children I interacted with, but also in the town of Manchester. Having lived here for 17+ years of my 21 years of life, I surprisingly knew very little about it. The itch that I had to be on the move still kept me going. Luckily, I made friends with fellow counselors who were more than happy to show me around the town. I hiked a mountain that I never knew was here, learned about a local market, and tasted some new flavors in Manchester. In addition to this, my parents took me on numerous adventures both up mountains and around them, by foot and in the car throughout the entirety of Connecticut. I gained a new appreciation for Connecticut that I’d never previously had. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been consumed with wanting to explore the world that it seems I’d completely overlooked exploring my own back yard. For this reason, I am immensely grateful to have been home working this summer despite my original desire to try out a new job in a new location (river guide in Arizona anyone?)

Somewhere in the mix of all this, my grandmother passed away. Not really keen on grappling with the emotions that this brings up, I will transition into a discussion of how I ended up deciding to backpack through the southern part of Iceland. We no longer need to travel through time anymore, because this is very currently exactly what is about to happen. I am departing for a solo trek through the highlands of Iceland tomorrow!! So how did I get here? Well,  Iceland has been a place that I’ve been wanting to visit since I made friends with a fellow exchange student in France who was from Iceland. Last year, him and his friends traveled all around the world and I got to meet up with them all in New York for lunch one day. At that point, I became determined to go. So while in Virginia after my grandmother’s passing, I received a call from Emily asking if I thought we should go to Iceland. Of course I said yes and we both immediately bought our plane tickets. As we actually began talking about our hopes for the trip, it seemed that we didn’t have the same intentions at all, and so we decided to go our separate ways, both traveling solo. Although disappointed that I won’t be traveling with my friend, I am more than excited to be embarking on my first trekking experience where I will have nothing but my equipment and time to think about all of the fears about my future that originally plagued me at the beginning of the summer. Although slightly terrified, I know that this is exactly the kind of experience my grandma would have been on board with. Maybe very reluctantly for fear of my well being, but she would, without a doubt, be proud. I also don’t know how likely it would have been that I spontaneously decided to do this trip if not in the mental state that I was when the tickets were bought, so this is in large part, thanks to grandma. That was a long way for me to basically say that I am dedicating this adventure to my grandma! So up until now, I’ve been preparing, mentally and equipment wise, but not nearly as much physically as I should have been.

My quarter dome, one person tent
            from REI!

I have very occasional walked around the block with my pack, as per my father’s persistence at the importance of doing so, as well as the purchased a lot of equipment. This meant hours of youtube reviews and trip after trip to the local REI and EMS to talk to the experts. I purchased most everything through these stores, but I won’t go into the details of that process just yet. For now, I’d just like to talk about how one can work 65+ hours a week for an entire summer and come out of it with a bill still due to the credit

card company. Now it seems absurd to think that I spent all of that money on equipment for backpacking, and it is! Considering my flight itself, including fees for baggage, cost roughly $600, where could all of the other money gone? I’m a relatively frugal spender, so not much of it went to unnecessary Gatorade or chocolate bars (although a little bit of it did). But one unexpected cost that came into play this summer, consisted of issues with my car. In case you’ve never thought about this, take a moment to consider how cars are for made to keep people stationary. It may sound a little absurd but I assure you that it’s true. Cars are for those who’ve settled or are settling into a life with a daily routine that doesn’t change much from week to week, month to month, or even year to year. Sure it can take you on the occasional adventure, but for most people that isn’t what the car is for. The illusion of having a car is that you can get up and go anywhere whenever you want (presuming that you have enough money to fill the gas tank), and although true to an extent, vastly misrepresented. The rest of the money I earned this summer went to fixing my car, the car I had to fix because I had to go to work, for which I had to go to work to pay for the car. It’s a vicious cycle.

Speaking of cycles, a brief moment to divulge into a comment on the moon. Just as the tides change with the cycles of the moon so do our bodies. My body, mind and energy have been re-adapting to American life since returning home, and preparing for new adventures. Now as I prepare for backpacking in Iceland, my summer feels like it flew by, and my time in Kenya feels like an eternity ago. I mentioned at the beginning of this post that on my first night in my bed I couldn’t sleep because I was unsettled about the thoughts of having to deal with my future. As the summer closes however, I’ve got ideas for what paths I’d like to take next and am ready for my final fall semester at Hofstra! For the time being, I promise to post lots of pictures on Instagram, so look out!! (Link is on the bottom of this page)

Have a great last few days of summer!!
-Beca