Pilates

Last night I was at my cousin's house for Easter dinner. I suppose I should note in the spirit of this blogg that holiday dinners in Iceland are not served at special times of the day, the way holiday dinners in the States are. Nope, Easter dinner was 7pm, just like dinner every other day, whereas in the States, Easter dinner, Thanksgiving dinner, and Christmas dinner are usually served between 2pm and 4pm, because so much food is prepared no one could imagine eating lunch ahead of time and one is stuffed for hours afterwards. 

Anyhow, not what I wanted to write about. What I was thinking about just now, while making my coffee and remembering how good her coffee was, was a snip of the conversation that through me for a loop. I made a comment about how cute she looked. She started talking about her pilates and body balance exercise regiment. How great it felt, what time of the day it was held, that it was just up the hill, and that a friend of hers ran the class, how great she was at motivating everyone. This morning I realized that, owing to my upbringing in an unabashedly capitalist country, I simply assumed this was a sales pitch on her part. And I dutifully wanted to play my part as the interested potential buyer. How much did the class cost I asked? She answered with the price and then said it did not matter what it cost, it felt so great, a classic comeback to the what does it cost question. This sales pitch was working, I got to say, really working. I started imagining myself going to said pilates and body balance class three times a week, becoming a leaner, stronger me. Ah, but here is where the cultural difference between a consumer society (which Iceland definitely is) and a capitalist society (which I do not think Iceland really is) comes into play. When I made the final leap, asked how I could sign up for the class, my cousin looked at me like I was nuts, told me there was a huge waiting list. 

Clearly I had entirely missed the point of the conversation. 

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