Sundlaugarvörður

by Gunnar Birgisson

Few things are as emblematic of Icelandic culture as the public swimming pools that are found throughout the country. Whether in the Reykjavik region or any of the smaller towns spread throughout the country, these institutions provide the Icelandic public and foreign visitors with a wonderful amenity.

These are iconic places that anyone can visit. Each one always has both a pool and some hot tubs. And there is the Sundlaugarvörður—the swimming pool guard.

Vesturbæjarlaug swimming pool in Reykjavík Vesturbær District Photo Credit: Emstrur, Creative Commons

No, not a lifeguard, such as the ones that sit perched above swimming pools in the U.S. and Canada, ready to assist anyone in trouble in the water. The Icelandic swimming pool guards don’t protect us from the pool. They protect the pool from us.

These figures, often attired in white robes and clogs, roam around the locker room and shower area. Their job consists of ensuring we all follow the swimming pool rules, such as showering before entering the pool, monitoring visitor behavior to reduce the risk of accidents, and keeping the locker room and shower area clean.

But it’s their demeanor that makes these guards memorable to me. I have vivid memories of the pool guards from my youth, and they tended to be cranky and aggressive, displaying overt displeasure at all the people crowding their workplace.

The hostile reception was even stronger when my grade school class would venture to the indoor pool in Reykjavik for swimming lessons. The guard was visibly annoyed by our bustling presence and noisy demeanor. He resented the bratty kids invading his swimming pool. He would always be yelling at us to move on or quiet down. And he had an urgent need to mop and clean up exactly where we were standing at any given time.

At that time, I could have sworn that the job requirements for being a swimming pool guard included being a misanthropic sourpuss.

Nowadays, however, the swimming pool guards seem to be a bit more subdued. Sometimes they are immigrants who do their job in a quiet and unobtrusive manner. No offense to the newest generation, but I admit missing the cranky old ones—their scowls and scolding were essential parts of the swimming pool experience.