Saying Goodbye

I know some of you are reading this title and thinking to yourselves: "good riddance." I'm sorry to disappoint you; I'm not going anywhere just yet. Besides, my critics are my best readers, they never miss a column and I don't want to disappoint them. You can call it a columnist’s responsibly.

I'll start this with a little confession. I'm in love with this country. It was love at first sight. A rush of excitement straight to the blood stream. With all her defects and the fact the she is broke; she is still beautiful to me. I still find her attractive and even sort of sexy (I even refer the country as "she").

Like many other love stories, sometimes it takes few tears to make it real.

Two of my best friends here recently moved to Norway. Sky-high interest rates on their recently-bought house and car was the final straw. So they decided to move away and join another friend who had already left few months ago and settled down in Norway.

They said their decision hadn’t been easy but reports that their salaries would be double or even triple their salaries in Iceland along with better health and social services made their decision easier. They sold their two flat screen TVs and the rest of whatever they could get rid off and were ready to set sail.

All this happened only a few days after the news broke that Icelanders were returning from Norway after having moved there at the beginning of the kreppa. The report claimed that the number of people leaving and returning was the same.

I don't know if it's true or just an attempt to create a better mood for the rest of us who stayed here. The fact is, the economy situation still sucks and there are no real signs that things are going to get any better in the near future.

The Icelandic króna is at a record low and the people in charge seem lost. With not much of a choice, Icelanders leave for a better future and I think no one can blame them for it.

The weekend before my friends’ departure they invited me to a small farewell party. We sat with a few beers and talked about everything, past, present and future.

Just a few moments before I finally left the party I felt the need to tell them: "This farewell party should be for me."

I was being sincere. Normally I would feel happy for my friends embarking on a new adventure and wish them good luck.

I know how it is to move away and start something new. I did it myself (look where I am) but this time I felt like I'm the one being left behind.

The good luck wishes were supposed to be said to me and the rest of the people who stayed here just trying day by day to keep their heads above water. I really believe that considering the way things look right now, our best hope is probably luck.

My romance with this country has had its ups and downs. Everyone has their bad moments. Now it's Iceland that happens to be down.

I still love this country and I try to do my best to make it easier on us. However, seeing how things are going for both of us now and regardless of how important love is, sometimes love isn’t enough.

Published in Iceland Review October 18 2009.