Before coming to Iceland, I had not used geothermal energy. How different could it be? It illuminates lights, heats up stoves, provides hot water to wash dishes…it’s energy, right?
After two months in this country, I find myself being reminded daily of where the energy I use comes from. I have not experience this at home.
Daily reminders (before leaving my apartment):
SHOWER: Stepping into the steaming hot shower, my olfactory sense is quickly awakened. The sulfurous smell, emitted during the use of hot water, is poignant. Recollections of this smell are stimulated in my mind: suddenly I am exploring dynamic geothermal fields with spouting geysers, boiling mudpots, and venting fumaroles; OR I am relaxing in a “hot pot”/geothermal pool, my body completely at ease, soaking up minerals and heat in an other-worldly environment; OR… the distinct memories of places connected with this smell go on and on. This “rotten egg” smell has become utterly delightful (I’m serious). Each time I indulge in geothermally heated water, I am momentarily brought back to the powerful and dynamic ground that creates this possibility. Instead of stepping into my black tile shower, I am transported to fascinating places. Sometimes I am left wondering about the root source of this energy; and sometimes I am musing over the current political “green energy” debate. Is it the uniqueness of geothermal environments that make such a strong impact? Is it the potency of this particular smell? Is the connection between smell and memory stronger than other senses? Does all energy have a smell? Does this connectivity between memory of a place and geothermal energy fade with time? If this was the only energy that you had ever used, would there still be a connection between geothermal environments and daily use?
WASHING THE DISHES: The first warning that I was given upon arrival to my apartment, “Be careful, the water gets really hot!” Even with this advice, I have burnt my hands on numerous occasions. Hot water has infused the tops of my hands and evokes a constant sensitivity. Water heats up fast and gets extremely HOT. I used an infrared thermometer to do a few quick tests on the water temperature at my apartment sink. How hot was this water? Despite the steam and strong sulfur smell, the water temperature can jolt you back into reality quickly if you aren’t careful. After 90 seconds of running the faucet on high, 172 0F water erupted from the tap!
TRACES FROM THE SHOWER + SINK: I used to take fast showers. Here, I find myself relishing in the extreme hot water. I become entrapped in the warm world of steam and thought. After enveloping me, the steam is drawn to my windows, making them watery and opaque. Even with the windows open, the steamy traces of my shower will linger for the next hour.
Another trace I constantly find is a white residue on the counters. No matter how hard I work to keep the sink and counters clean, it is impossible. After I wipe down the counter, or the sink, or the shower and the water has dried, white traces (minerals) cloud whatever surface I have scrubbed.
FIDGETING WITH MY RING: I am constantly spinning, moving, and playing with the ring on my finger. The sensation of this act has not changed, but when I look down at my silver, seaglass ring, I pause. Is that my ring? What happened? A black patina has transformed my ring. Iceland’s geothermal waters have left a dark trace.
I was told at thermal baths to take off my jewlrey as the water would tarnish it. After almost losing my ring, I decided to keep to my normal routine and never take it off. I shower, wash dishes, go swimming, all with my ring on. For now, this dark patina serves as a reminder (similar to the sting I sometimes get in my eyes after showering), of this geothermal water. When I get home, I’ll get out the polish.
NIGHT SOUNDS: I woke up in the night to the sound of water percolating. Was my neighbor making coffee at 2 a.m.? Then again at 4 a.m.? It wasn’t as though this hot water initially woke me up, but I found the sound intriguing. Now when I wake up in the night, I listen for it. At times the stillness of the night allows me to hear this hot rumble. The apartment is being heated by hot water. My neighbors can’t drink that much coffee!
I am going to try to capture this sound on video.