Remains of a journey
Reflections of a Snorri alumni intern 

Author: Sigfús Haukur Sigfússon

THeat hit me the moment I stepped out of the car – the air like a weighted blanket, warm and welcoming. Gimli still beamed with energy and revelry as it did in 2022. I wondered what awaited me in these streets. What I would find were old acquaintances, smiling when they saw me, each bearing the weight that life bestows. News of other friends who’d settled down and had started their families. The streets stayed the same; the people, not so much. However, the first thing I wanted after the drive from Mountain was some food and a drink. I made my way to the bar, The Pier.

From my spot on the bar’s patio, Siobhan joined me for a drink. We chatted until I spotted a tall impressive man. A grey cap covered the top of his head, his beard longer and greyer than when I last saw him. Robbie stood out from the crowd. While others laughed and danced around him, he moved with purpose back and forth; his face was set in concentration. Like a sommelier tasting wine, Robbie tasted the music, his ears tuned in to the right frequency; the sound had to be perfect, otherwise, what was the point? For those that don’t know, Robbie is one of the organizers of the Alternative Folk Festival. His work revolves around bringing in artists from Iceland to come play at the pavilion while also taking care of various music events happening during the Icelanders’ Day festivities. When I ran up to greet him, I could see he was quite tired; he had been working the whole day. Even exhausted, he still had enough energy to speak to me and give me a good old bear hug. The reunion was short and sweet; Robbie was busy and was soon back on the job. Come to think of it, we all change; I wondered how much I had changed in two years. The night dragged on, fireworks flew, and I returned to my accommodation. The black night yielded to an orange dawn. 

A new day came with the promise of a warm breakfast. Susan sat in her armchair reading the newspaper. She made sure to stay informed on current world events. Catching up on her life over the past two years felt comforting. Susan and I always got along, and our talks could go on for hours. We would talk about current events, books, and fun places to visit. She’s an avid traveler and a dog lover. Since I last saw her, she had started a dog sitting business which I found suited her nicely. Being back with her, though just for a couple of days, made me grateful for having such an amazing friend and hostess. After breakfast, I headed to the pavilion to promote the Snorri Program with Atli. 

During a break, while the pavilion bustled with life, I saw a familiar man standing on top of the stage. His features reminded me of a Snorri I met in 2022, yet he looked somewhat different now. He bore a certain statesmanlike quality as he spoke. The suit and tie helped as well, but I saw Owen Roberts in a new light that day. (In the background I could see Robbie working on the sound system, carrying cables and other doodads.) Owen’s voice carried respect, and, listening to him talk, I could only think how he had grown since the last time I saw him. That’s one aspect of time, it changes us for the better. We grow as people and pick up new skills, new hobbies, we grow more into ourselves, and Owen had really grown into himself. Later on, we met for drinks and got chatting. Owen had a girlfriend now and was a bit more serious than when I met him two years ago. An up-and-coming young man. We sat on the bench. More Snorri alumni came in, we chatted and reconnected with the ones we knew. Right there I saw how far back the program spanned and how it had touched the people sitting there beside me. All of them felt connected to Iceland in one way or another, and the program had been there to help them support their Icelandic connection. 

Driving back to Winnipeg to the airport, the adventure was at an end. I am grateful for having been offered to be a part of this wonderful program and also to give back to the community that welcomed me with open arms. My stay in Gimli this time around was short, but I managed to meet a couple of friendly faces that I had wanted to see again. Gimli is special, for it opened its arms and welcomed me with a warm embrace. I will miss the people living there as well as all the other people that I met on my journey. Until we meet again. 

All the people I met had kind hearts and open arms to offer. For me, a stranger in a strange land, I never felt more at home than with my lovely hosts. Of course, they made sure I was properly taken care of, and my hands were kept active. This sense of community in North America was strong even in the late 19th century when Icelanders in Manitoba got together to buy a printing press to make sure the Icelandic language survived. For me, I felt a strong sense of belonging with the people I met. This union of allowing me into the fold, so to speak, is sure to have made the ancestors proud. During my stay, for example, I went bike riding around Winnipeg with two fun lads who, like me, were searching for some meaning in this crazy ride we call life. Chatting to them, I learned a lot about them – and about me. They were kind souls, and when Jasper, my fellow traveler, said, “you always find people you belong with,” I could not disagree with that sentiment, because, in a way, I found people who have helped put couple of my issues into perspective.