Big, bold headlines with the word IJsland somewhere amongst other Dutch words are no longer to be found on front pages of newspapers. No longer are there articles, written by bitter owners of IceSave accounts, requesting that de blonde IJslandse meisjes, the blond Icelandic girls, work for the debts of the nation by baby-sitting, gardening or free prostitution (is that a value exchange?). But the news of our financial crash are nowhere near to be forgotten. Lectures of school give me the poor girl-look, wedding guests in Germany make jokes about the deceased economy of Iceland and Mahir from the Tyrkish Café on the ground floor of my flat just laughs, shakes his head and puts my money back in my bag when I insist on paying for my coffee. Then he brings me a beer and says: "Save your money, little girl. Don't worry, be happy!"
At least I'm not chased out of bag-shops on Strøget...
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2 comments:
ég fékk styrk frá einhvers konar samnorrænu arbejde, thví ég er íslendingur. thannig ad einhverjum er sama um okkur. held ad thad hafi verid nordmenn sem stódu fyrir thessu.
Já, Norðmenn eru indælir. Ekki fæ ég neinn styrk frá Ragnari frá Norge í bekknum mínum. Kannski hann bjóði mér samt upp á bjór eða tvo.
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