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Icelandic nature is full of wonderful creatures. Take the time to admire it, that's what Icelanders tell us. At the end of a path, in the formation of a rock ... look if you do not see a troll! These little creatures will help the strayers lost but will flee if you move their stones! This morning we create and listen to legends about troll. It was nice to see the creative world of each participant was different. In the afternoon, we visited Rekjavick with a guide, very sympatic, to the organization « The friends of Reykjavík ». He plunged us into the world of Icelandic legends.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Jh4M-g3dqs Sofðu unga ástin mín úti regnið grætur. Mamma geymir gullin þín gamlan ...

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"Creativity is the intelligence that plays."

Albert Einstein

This morning, I was afraid about our work : surprise and fear for me... Making a troll, with a needle and wool, that seemed amazing to me !!

I did not know what I would be able tot do, nor what my fingers would do. And that's why it  was great, despite the anxiety of not succeeding.

Inventiveness is still what teaches us the most about us, unknown, uncontrolled.

Improvisation is the other name of life, is not it?

Also, I liked this sentence pronounced by one of our hostesses: “for the same instruction, completely different answers”. I therefore celebrate the joy of being oneself, with others, and to meet otherness, to respect it, and to make it a shareable wealth.

Thank you all for this beautiful day in your company.

Sylvie created a troll, soft, sweet ... I created an ogress, sort of troll in France. An ogress like "Fiona", Shrek's fiancée.

But I finally found the name of my trolless: it will be Gilitrutt...

Here is the story of Gilitrutt!

"Once upon a time there was a young farmer who lived under the mountains of Eyjafjol. He was a valiant man with a large flock of sheep. He had just married when this story happened to him: his wife was young and pretty, but lazy. She did nothing and did not participate in the farm work. This did not please her husband, but he could not do much. One autumn, he gave her a big bag of sheep fleeces and asked him to spin them during the winter. Winter settled but the young farmer did not touch the wool despite the insistence of her husband.

One day she met a tall, rather boorish woman who offered to spin her wool for which she should guess her name. For that she would give him three chances. the woman agreed and gave him the wool bag. The tall woman took the bag, put it on her back and said, "I'll come back with the wool spun on the first day of summer. "

Winter passed and the husband often asked his wife where she was with the wool. She told him not to worry and that she would be ready by the first day of the summer. So he did not think about it anymore. The last month of the coming winter, the farmer began to think of the name of the unknown boor and wondered how she was going to guess it. She became very worried and only thought about it. The husband noticed that something was wrong and asked what was going on. She told him the whole story. The husband was very frightened and told him that she had done a bad thing because the woman in question was actually a trolless who wanted to remove it.

Later, preoccupied with this story and as he was walking down a mountain, he saw a big boulder and suddenly heard a sound to which he was heading. Through a narrow crack, he saw a trolless, sitting in the process of spinning a large bag of wool. The spinning wheel between her legs, she skipped with great dexterity, humming, "Oh oh, oh, the farmer does not know what my name is, oh oh oh, Gilitrutt is my name, oh ohoh. "

The farmer, certain that this was indeed the name of the troll who had visited his wife, returned home. He noted Gilitrutt'sname on a piece of paper, but said nothing to his wife.

When the last day of winter arrived, the farmer was so worried that she did not even dress and stayed in bed. Her husband came to her and asked him:

Do you know the name of the trolless who visited you? "

" No ! She lamented, "I'm going to die ..."

"It will not happen because I know his name. Replied the farmer. And he began to tell him the whole story. His wife, who trembled with fear and feared that the name was not right, begged her husband to stay by her side when the trollesscame. He refused, because she had put herself in this situation alone, and it was therefore up to her alone to get out of it. Then he went away.

The next day, when she arrived on the first day of the summer, the young woman was lying on her bed, alone on the farm. She heard a loud noise when the troll came, much more ugly in appearance than the first time. She had the wool she had spun with her, threw it violently on the floor, and asked the farmer to tell her her name. Terrorized, she replied:

"Signy? "

"It's not my name, it's not my name, guess again! Jubilated the trolless.

"Ása? The farmer asked.

"It's not my name, it's not my name, guess again! The troll chuckled.

"Your name is Gilitrutt? The farmer asked at the third chance.

The trolless was so surprised that she felt backwards on the floor in a huge crash. Then she got up, ran off and was never seen again in the area. On the other hand, the young woman was very happy to have escaped the trolless. Since that day, his character has changed dramatically. She became valiant and assiduous in the task and now spun her wool herself.”

So it's both the bride, but also Gilitrutt, the one whose name we did not know, who is in the image of the unknown who in me will have chosen to make this funny character.

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In Iceland, where pure and untouched nature brings life to life, it is not surprising to be able to feel a particular reconnection force and unknown sensations. After a few days in these wild places, the senses sharpen and the perception is refined. Little by little, it seems that where the imprint of man has not yet altered, nature speaks its original language.

Nordic mythology is the set of myths from northern Europe (Scandinavia and Iceland) at the base of the polytheistic religious system practiced in these regions in the early Middle Ages before Christianization. For centuries, Nordic myths were transmitted orally, notably through skaldic poetry. In the same way, hosts of the moor beaten by the winds, the elves have nourished from time immemorial the folk tales of Iceland. Moreover, construction sites have been modified so as not to disturb them: these creatures are part of the life of Iceland.

Thus, Tuesday, April 23, 2019 afternoon, we could listen, wandering along the streets, stories ...

List of stories told:

The Yule Lads

Better to be wise: in fact, the Icelandic folklore involves 13 Christmas trolls, the Yule, who come to haunt villages to scare children. Kind of father whippers in some ways. Over the years, however, the roles of the Yule Lads have softened, and these little fellows have become less harmful. They appear during the 13 nights before Christmas, and everyone leaves after 13 nights. In total, they are present from December 12 to January 6.

"Yule", which means "Christmas" in Icelandic, is inherited from the pagan celebrations of the winter solstice.

Here they are, in order of appearance:

1 / The clum of sheepfolds: fun to harass the sheep, although handicapped by his wooden legs.

2 / The dadais ravines: hides in the gutters to enter the stables and steal the milk.

3 / The stocky: abnormally small, he steals pans in order to lick the fat that is there.

4 / The licker spoons: very thin, he steals the wooden spoons to lick them.

5 / The scrapers: steals the remains of dishes

6 / The bowl licker: hides under the beds while waiting for someone to put his bowl in order to steal it.

7 / The door clacker: as the name suggests, he particularly likes to slam doors, preferably at night.

8 / The skyrofoam: do not let Skyr (a fermented milk formula) nearby!

9 / The sausage thief: hides in the rafters of the attic where the sausages are smoked.

10 / The voyeur behind the windows: in search of something to steal, he spends his time scrutinizing behind the windows.

11 / The sniffer: he uses his big nose to find the best places to steal Christmas cookies.

12 / The meat hook: he uses his hook to steal the meat from a distance.

13 / The thief of candles: follows the children in the dark to steal their candles.

Here is an illustration to better navigate:

The lullaby “Sofdu unga ástin mín”

An Icelandic lullaby entitled “Sofdu unga ástin mín” (“Sleep my young darling”) written about an Icelandic couple of the eighteenth century and their child (Fjalla-Eyvindur and his wife Hallaparle) tells the story of infanticide. Indeed, in order to escape, the mother would have killed the child after singing:

“Sleep a long time, sleep well, it is better to get up late.

You will soon learn that when the day becomes night,

people feel love, absence, sadness and nostalgia.”

Similarly, if a “face appears at the window” means that “bloodthirsty ghosts roam in the darkness”.

The ghost of the Black River.

In Icelandic, a ghost is called draugur. They are often people who have just died tragically, who are victims of a sudden and violent death, murdered or horribly injured. Those can make themselves visible if it sings to them. They can speak, often rhyming and repeating the last two syllables of each sentence, but they can not pronounce the word Gud, which they replace with an innocuous syllable. Often, they bring innocent prey to the grave. One of the most famous is certainly the Deacon of the Black River, who came to fetch his fiancee.

Having promised to come to fetch his fiancée on Christmas Eve, the young man perched on a horse dies passing over a river whose bridge is broken. The next day, the villagers bury him. But if her funeral takes place, the fiancée having remained without news, knows nothing of the affair. Also, on the evening of December 24, the ghost of the young man comes up, the beautiful joins him behind him on his horse, and here he begins to speak in the manner of the ghosts. It was then that she saw the mortal wound on the back of the ghost, just as he was about to drag him into his grave. Once in the cemetery, panicked, she tries to ring a bell to alert the villagers. But her fiancé fire holds her by the sleeve of her coat. The latter being previously damaged, the monster could keep only a small piece of cloth of his bride and the girl could ring the bell. The villagers then came to help him. Back home, the ghost came to harass her, manifesting herself by knocking on her door every night for thirteen days until a wizard came to her aid, as well as the villagers, who all ended up together. crush the ghost under a rock to put an end to his sinister actions.

Nábrók

We kept the “best” for the end, with the nábrók, the magical pants meant to bring unlimited wealth to the wearer.

To make the nábrók, you need a poor widow, and a gold coin (and incidentally, ask permission from the person whose skin is being used). Once this person dies, it is necessary to recover the skin (from the waist to the feet), to make them trousers, which, once worn, can not be removed. To attract fortune, it is also necessary to keep the gold coin, which will work like a magnet, by drawing all the pieces of the environment towards it. Which ensures wealth. However, do not die with these pants! .... At the risk of terrible things happening to the owner.

Loch ness of Iceland? Yes, it’s Lagarfljótsormurinn

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Dimitris: 2nd Day, Hidden in the open space

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Dimitris: 2nd Day, Hidden in the open space

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In the morning we spent three hours workshop in making an Icelandic troll with Icelandic wool after hearing some stories about Icelandic trolls. Each participant gets down to making his or her own troll according to their skills.

Making trolls was a fun project that anyone can do and does not require any level of skills to create them.

We make a lot of different trolls by expressing our deepest feelings…..

At the afternoon we had a tour around Reykjavik city center. The tour was full of myth and legends about troll, elves and other mythical creatures. We realized the importance of those stories in Icelandic tradition. I believe that it was a common feeling that all stories were enough scaring. I don’t know if this is good inspiration for the youngest.

I impressed also by the number of Santa Claus Iceland has.

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We started early this day making a nice troll. A troll made of wool. Since I am not very creative myself, I have done my best to make the best of it. While I was busy with my creation, the two lovely ladies told nice stories about the trolls in Iceland. I think it is very special that Icelanders still take pieces from their mythical history and record their norms and values. After trolling we went on a walking tour where we walked through Reykjavik. Steffen told all kinds of stories about myths and legends. To be honest, I find it difficult to put myself in the stories that are told. Although of course I respect the people and their culture.

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Today we learned about the folklore stories from Iceland. A great guide told the most famous folklore stories of his country. It gave me a great perspective in to the history of mythes and the hidden people who lives in Iceland. 90 procent of the population knows about the elves, trolls etc. and is not forcing the mythes of them. Maybe the don’t believe, but they don’t deny there is maybe ‘something’. And why would you take a risk to destroy the rocks of elves and trolls and get in trouble afterwards? Even the people who don’t believe are very careful with the replacement of the rocks.

The morning session was a wool workshop. It gave me a creative look to imagian how trolls are look like.  It was a very fun and useful way to learn about the way of living. I made some changes to my troll, because I heard about some clothing regulations for the trolls. When the trolls enter the church, they need to be dressed up and wear a head. The picture of my troll shows the head.

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Multiple perspectives have the potential to deepen our understanding.
The stories that our guide, Stefan, told during the city walk in Reykjavik gave another look at folklore stories. The Icelanders still really believe in these stories. These stories have been passed on from generation to generation and in this way retain their value. This is something I sometimes miss in my own country. It seems as if less and less value is being attached to cultural heritage. I therefore think it is very important that the school pays attention to internationalization. I therefore intend in future internationalization projects to pay more attention to folklore stories, legends and myths.

A nice hands-on experience today was sewing trolls using local wool. This is a typical workshop that can be used during an internationalization project, especially if you link it to a folklore story and tell it during the workshop, as our Icelandic instructors did. Today I suddenly felt very creative and in love!

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Myths gives us our sense of personal identity, answering the question: Who am I?
Today started with a lovely workshop: making woolly trolls! By being creative and hearing the stories behind the trolls and the identity of the Icelanders, I got really into the fact that many Icelanders still hang on to the stories, myths and legends as a part of their cultural identity. The lovely ladies of the workshop told us everything we needed and even provided us with many helpful tips and tricks to make our own 'piece of identity'.

After nice lunch we went on a guided tour through the city of Reykjavik, hearing the stories about the old magic stories, legends and myths, mostly based on the Norse mythology. Our guide Steffen really did a great effort to bring the stories alive. The stories are of course mainly life lessons and things to learn and live by. It's really interesting to see how a nation originated without one of the big world religions tries to hold on and base its history and foundings on their own myths, tales and legends.

I think today was very interesting and inspiring. Understanding the country's history by listening to tales and stories on which a nation's norms and values and identity are based upon gives you an insight in the way people think and act and see the bigger picture.

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We started this morning with a delicious breakfast at our guesthouse. After breakfast the entire group walked down to an amazing house. It turned out to be one of the first 15 stone houses built in the 1910’s in Reykjavík and the first Icelandic prime minister Hannes Hafstein used to live here. We participated in a workshop and listened to epic sagas of Icelandic beliefs in elfs, trolls and other creatures. It occurred to me that the most lovely and adorable Icelandic women who organized the workshop really had much knowledge about the troll stories, besides they are professional seamstressers. After my first troll was born, one of the women had an epiphany about my troll’s name. She told me an amazing story about her father who told her stories about the troll Kampholtmóri. It once drove along a farmer who went to a party somewhere in the area. The farmer got very drunk and the troll didn’t want to drive back with the farmer. The troll decided not to ride back with the farmer and stayed at the party. What me interested the most was that the woman really told me passionately about this story. It really touched me to see that she was so excited to tell me about it. It resultated in my own special troll, Morí.
After a powernap we had to gather at the central square to start a walk through the city center. I expected a historical tour but it turned out that Stefan knew a lot about the Icelandic sagas and of course he told us about it. The most interesting story was the one about Gudrun and the deacon. The moment he told us the story we were standing on a cemetery while the weather was cold, rainy and foggy, so that made it even more scary. Today was much about folkloric stories and legends. All the people I met today really gave me a look inside the cultural heritage of Iceland.

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Tuesday

We did a troll workshop where we created our own trolls out of Icelandic wool. While doing so we listened to ttoll sagas being told by one of the instructors. The task given was quite simple: create a troll with a needle and several varieties of wool. It was very interesting to see the many different kinds of trolls the participants made.

In the afternoon we did a guided tour in Reykjavik. During the tour the guide shared many Icelandic sagas and told the history of several historical places around the city:

We visited the place that is known as the oldest graveyard on Iceland. However, it is no longer a graveyard. At this place the guide told about the magical era from the mid 1700 to mid 1800 on Iceland. Runes were used as the alphabet + magical staves (symbols) were needed to create the magic spells. E.g. Afturganga (zombie/ghost) and how to revive a deceased, make them into an aftergunger who would then do your every bid and call.

We also went past a big rock, which is one og many portals into the elves’ dimensions. When building or constructing roads on Iceland, they go around elf rocks, because the machines break when they try to move them. There is an Elf school on Fridays where participant learn about the elves. There are about 50 different species of elves on Iceland. One species is the hidden people.

The guide also told us about Icelandic lullabies which are very dark and not in any way child friendly.

After that we went to a large graveyeard in the city center. The first person to be burried in a graveyard has to be the keeper of the place for eternity. Here the guide told the saga of The deacon of Dark River

The next stop was by a lake in the city, where we were told about The Lagarfljótsormur; a lake monster saga

Lastly we went to The Alpingi - the parliament of Iceland

In generel I would say the highlight of the day was listening to the sagas being told throughout both activities. The guide and instructors told the stories with passion and it was easy to hear that they knew their sagas very well. And especially the guide was r very good storyteller.

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Reflection day 2

Troll workshop, making tiny mythical creatures. While making shure not to pierce my fingers, we all got the basics and materials to start making our own little troll. A nice and productive way to start the day. As my tiny creature slowly formed into Yule cat, known from icelandic folklore as the cat of Gryla, the course teacher told us some of the tales and background stories of trolls. I had never heard these stories before, somehow inspired me to make my Yule cat.

Later during the day we were guided by Stefan around the city. Funny enough he told us about the Yule cat and Gryla as well. But what really stood out for me was the childrens lullabies. Icelandic lullabies refer to some grimm and dark folklore.

Iceland is best experienced as an adult!!

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Kerstin
Today we got to know the world of trolls.All of us made our own troll.It became a funny troll family.A very tasty meal finished the morning.

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Second day of the course
Today started with a wonderful gathering at a cosy wooden attic with the troll storytellers and wool  knitters. These two women put all the group into an immersion with our creativity with this material making our own creatures. 3 hours flew. These are Purka (she gave epilepsy to the men who dared to reject her) and Raudsokka (troll with red socks).

In the afternoon we went on a magical tour through the folk stories in different corners of the city.
We learnt how to revive the dead ones into zombies, quite a preparation... and heard spooky stories in the old graveyard.
Fun fact: if kids understood the Icelandic lullabys lyrics.. they would never fall asleep!

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Ulli
Today we met two nice Icelandic ladies who told us about trolls and together as a group we used our imagination to make a big group of trolls. Coming from different cultures our creatures got quite different...We chose real Icelandic names for them and learned about their meaning.
In the afternoon we made a mystical tour...and now I know some hidden places in this great town. Even it was raining our tour guide made it entertaining...