The first time I came to Iceland, it was with my mom and my brother when I was 7 years old. We spent a lot of time that summer with my mother's first cousin and her two children, a boy Einar and a girl Margret. Margret was older than my brother, and Einar a bit younger than my brother but older than me, and we all got along pretty well. I especially adored Margret, probably because she reminded me of my sister who had stayed behind in California; they are about the same age and both have strawberry blond hair. I guess it was the summer when I was 9 that I caught on to another similarity; they both played the viola. Of course, my sister stopped doing so when she was 17 I think, but Magga still does it today, freelancing her talents on the mean streets of New York, after graduating from Juilliard.
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And actually, Icelandic culture is alive in the winter much more than in the summer. More Icelanders at the restaurants, more Icelanders at the music events, more Icelanders at the malls. Once the tourists come, the Icelanders begin to recede.