Memories from a Winnipeg Icelandic- Canadian
- Doreen Borgfjord McFarlane
- Jun 6
- 4 min read
by Doreen Borgfjord McFarlane
As we review the settlements in Winnipeg and the New Iceland area, no doubt many of us have reflected on the life our ancestors experienced. But what of our own life in these Icelandic settlement areas? One of our IR volunteers and author, Doreen Borgfjord McFarlane, reflects on her growing up in Winnipeg as a Canadian with Icelandic heritage.
There are not too many advantages to being what you might call “pretty old” but there is one. That is the fact that you can remember things about places; things that don’t exist anymore and you can tell stories about people who have long since departed. This is an advantage, at least when there is an interest. Many younger people wonder what it was like in Winnipeg “back in the day” and some even care enough to ask.
From what I see on my Facebook pages, it appears Winnipeg is becoming quite the city of daily urban drama, although this may be only from those who are posting these events from their perspectives. I am guessing Winnipeg may have changed some since I grew up there! But I will always remember it as the best place!
I would not say there was prejudice against the Icelandic immigrants, although there may have been in my Dad’s generation. The only sign shown that they noticed us as Icelandic Canadians was that people would often say when first meeting us “Oh, you’re a Goulie!” I’d asked my Dad and he explained the word came from hockey. meant goalie, and was really a compliment because the Icelanders had been such good players that they actually won the gold medal for hockey at the Olympics in 1919. (I’m not into sports but that impressed me some.)
How was Winnipeg different in my day? It seemed peaceful at least to me. I always felt free to go just about anywhere on the bus system. I was an only child, so I went alone. I’d go downtown on Saturdays and shop all day in the stores between Eaton’s and the Bay (Hudson’s Bay Store) and go out for lunch.
At one point in my young life, I’d go every Saturday to the magnificent Winnipeg Roller Rink and stay the entire day until they closed at 5 pm. Roller skating was different then. It was magic! The rink’s floor was made of oak and was smooth as silk. I am so old that they’d have a person sitting way up in a glass booth playing 78 rpm records of (you won’t believe it) organ music! “Shine On Harvest Moon” would be played for the “couples only” skate. They would darken the rink and turn on a very bright harvest moon in one corner! Now, my friends, that was romantic! One Saturday two boys that I didn’t even know got into a fight over which one would skate with me. So, after the rink closed, everyone went out to watch the fight (and no one to stop it!) The two beat each other substantially and then both got up and went straight home and didn’t even talk to me. I guess that part was good! As I said, Winnipeg was safe.
Winnipeg hosted the Red River Exhibition every summer and then I’d spend my Saturdays there, all day! My favourite things were the free food samples, the demonstrations of all kinds of kitchen equipment, the musical events, the competitions of baking and flowers and even cattle that had been raised. I stayed off the rides because I did not want to get killed at a young age. So, I have only happy, happy memories of the Ex!!
Oh yes, things Icelandic! There were many, although my parents did not get too involved. The main thing for me was that, because I was becoming a singer and because my voice teacher from the age of fifteen was Alma Gislason, an Icelandic Canadian like me, I was taught very carefully how to pronounce the Icelandic language.
She and my Dad were both relentless and determined I would not embarrass them by making any mistake at all. Although I still do not speak Icelandic, those lessons have served me in good stead. I sang in Icelandic (and other languages) in churches, and at every Icelandic event taking place in the area! I have always felt very proud to be of Icelandic heritage! Over the early years, my singing brought me to stages in Arborg and in Gimli (Islendingadagurinn), and later even to sing in Icelandic in Markerville, Alberta.
But, back to Winnipeg, the city of my birth. The two main groups of immigrants in the province of Manitoba in my time seemed to be the Icelanders who had come between 1875 and about 1910, and the Ukrainians who came later. I was always a bit jealous of the fact that their young people did a lot of dancing and always the girls wore flowers and ribbons in their hair when performing. And, did I tell you? Their music was lively!
My Dad’s parents had been the first homesteaders in Arborg, ninety miles north of Winnipeg and we left the city and went there every summer for at least a week. When there, my world became so different from the big city. Everything slowed down and I have to admit I didn’t really know how to even interact with my country cousins. We got along well, but they knew how to milk a cow and how to work in the fields and they belonged to the 4H club. Our lives were very different.
Winnipeg, of course, will mean different things to different people. And surely it must have changed and grown over the many years since I was a child. But I will always have very fond memories of my own city and how wonderful it was to grow up there. I’ll always call myself a big city girl!
