29.12.2006
THE TEACHERS' TRAINING COLLEGE
KENNO -
THE TEACHERS' TRAINING COLLEGE
http://www.netsaga.is/media/files/Satan%C2%B4s%20Choice-Skrattans%20Val.mp3 KENNO -
THE TEACHERS' TRAINING COLLEGE l
In september 1976, nearly a year after the horrible accident at Svinavatn in Grimsnes and six months from rehabilitating at Grensas I had returned to the Icelandic capital.
The next three winters I studied at the Teachers´ Traning College thus abiding the promise I'd given myself and future pupils.
Asa, my mother's sister, a real kind woman and Baldvin, her husband promised me a place of residence in the cellar of their house which has three floors, as long as I had to stay in Reykjavik.
My grandfather, Gunnar, whose soul was of a real good nature had one bedroom for himself in the cellar.
Eventhough sometimes being unlucky in his phraseology some phrases live in the memory.
For example little boys that were his favorite he named "The Old Man" and then there's the "Goou-soup" which was a plain instant-soup and wasn't one of his favorites.
Asa had no children herself, but she was like my second mother.
Because my fiancée was still an employee of the hospital in Keflavik when I began my studies in Reykjavik, in spite of her being pregnant of our first child I invited an old school chum from Laugarvatn, Gudjon Arngrimsson to stay in the cellar along with me and the old man.
He agreed because he had been hired as a journalist at a news paper (Visir) and needed a dwelling-place in town.
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I wasn't disappointed with my first day at school and became more encouraged as the autumn semester progressed.
Some students´ faces were familiar from the school years at the junior college in Laugarvatn and some were school chums in Keflavik, amongst them an old personal friend called Kristinn (Kiddi) Hilmarsson who was in the same class-room until our paths departed and he decided to study at the Junior College of Hamrahlid in Reykjavik.
On Laugarvatn I had been quite an enthusiast of Bridge-playing, but hadn´t given this noble brain- gymnastic much thought since and had really great doubts on whether my playing was any good.
For that reason it came as a nice surprise one day when Kiddi came to me and asked whether I'd like to be his partner in bridge that evening in a school-match of doubles.
At first I wasn't too eager to except the offer, but gave in with half a mind.
To prepare ourselves we did a few refreshing-drills and to my relief I discovered, that the same goes for bridge-playing as for bicycle-riding, that once something has been learned, it won't so easily be forgotten.
The match began and it finished.
In my oppinion our performance was quite extraordinary; e.g. we had all the tricks in one game.
But to our disappointment we were just second-best, after the first calculations.
But because I didn't have the means to wait for any further calculations I hurried home to my appartment in the cellar.
It was very late and I wanted to catch the last bus.
When I arrived in school the morning after, Kiddi my Bridge-partner came running towards me with his arms outstretched with a merry face giving me a hug, behaving as we hadn't seen each other for a long time.
-We beat them, Oli. We are school-champions!
-What are you saying, man, suddenly I was well awake,
Weren't we in second place? I had already put up with that seat.
A good seat in itself, especially if compared to the fact that I took part half-minded, without any espectations. -Yes, after numerous calculations we came to the conclusion that the two of us were the real SCHOOL-CHAMPIONS.
Relating to this unexpected victory I had the misrepresentation that all studies would be easy for me thereafter, despite having real doubts because my remembrance from all earlier studies was very limited.
With the victory I realized that all the knowledge remained hidden somewhere in my mind.
Everything would be retraced bit by bit, but as I concluded a number of times as time went by the hiding-places weren't all so easily recoverable!
Despite being in a four storey building there's no elevator in the school house.
It was built prior to all laws and regulations about accessibility for the handicapped.
On the groundfloor there's the entry, clothes' racks, toilets, offices, resting rooms and kitchen, but class-rooms on higher floors.
Despite not having a need for a wheel-chair I was always anxious for the classes I had to attend in the two highest floors.
Especially when I had to go up to the attic where to there was a high and narrow staircase.
It might sound incredible but it's as true as I'm sitting here typing that it was easier for me going up the stairs;
I took two or more steps in a pace, but going down was pure hell.
When the foot touched the next step I trembled so much that I had the feeling that I were made of wood alias
Pinocchio about to crumble into pieces, and how it ached I can´t even begin to describe.
It had come to the state that I was terribly anxious before
walking down, but was able to hide my feelings so that no-one would notice that anything was abnormal with me.
