Before coming to Iceland, I thought I should learn some Icelandic. Logical enough, right? I started off with memorizing “já” (yes), “nei” (no) and “takk” (thank you). I was feeling confident. But things became much more difficult.
First of all, online Icelandic lessons are hard to find. Duolingo offers Klingon and High Valyrian, but they don’t offer Icelandic. I ended up using Pimsleur, a platform in which you listen to the language before you read it. Despite the fact that Icelandic uses a similar alphabet to English, there were many sounds that I couldn’t put a letter to. Was that an “f” or a “th”? A “qu” or “hv”?
I learned much more than that Icelandic is difficult for me, an English speaker, to pronounce. By far, my favorite part of learning a new language is the fresh perspective it gives me. For example, have you ever considered the word “pineapple”? In Icelandic, it’s “ananas.” This struck me because in French “pineapple” is also “ananas.” So why is English different? According to Merriam Webster, the English word for pineapple used to be “ananas.” Captain John Smith was among the earliest to refer to this fruit as a “pineapple” in 1642. Presumably he was unaware that this fruit already had a name. It was common to name unfamiliar fruits with some variation of “apple.”
I also learned that language is inseparable from culture. For example, when my host sister and I were playing in the snow, she taught me the Icelandic word for “icicle.” It’s “grýlukerti.” The direct translation is “Grýla’s candles.” Grýla is a troll woman who eats misbehaving children at Christmas. Santa doesn’t visit children in Iceland. Instead, Grýla’s 13 sons, the Yule Lads, bring presents. Some of their names include Þvörusleikir (Spoon Licker), Pottaskefill (Pot Scraper) and Hurðaskellir (Door Slammer). As you can hear in their names, they once caused mischief. You also have to watch out for the family cat, who eats people who didn’t get new clothes for Christmas.
I also learned some words I wish we had in English. For example, a word for when the weather looks absolutely beautiful through the window. The kind of day with bluebird skies, glittering snow and sun. A day that calls you outside. Yet, when you actually venture out, you find it’s bitterly cold or windy, and you never should have left the safety of inside. This is “gluggaveður.” It means “window weather.” Another one of my favorites is “ísbíltúr.” In English, we might say “ice cream run.” But it’s more specific than that. You go out for ice cream, regardless of the weather, and then drive around while eating it. I first experienced this on a Monday night in March. Spontaneous ice cream in a snowstorm. Yum.
This next one is obvious once you think about it. But I hadn’t. Our pets also “speak” different languages. The command for my host dog to eat dinner was “Gjörðu svo vel,” roughly meaning “here you go” or “now you may eat.” So I guess I can’t blame him when he didn’t listen to me. He doesn’t understand English.
Perhaps the most important thing I learned is how helpful it is to laugh at yourself. I told my host mom that, at least, I could correctly pronounce the word “jökull.” She just looked at me, confused. I had to explain that I had meant to say “glacier.” Once she understood, she pronounced it completely differently. I guess I couldn’t correctly pronounce “jökull.”
Language is constantly evolving, a product of its history and culture. It’s also the water we swim in. There’s a lot to be learned from trying, however successfully or unsuccessfully, to learn a new one.
