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My 2024 Snorri Adventure

By Maia Chapman


Editor's Note: If you are interested in joining the Snorri Program in 2025, the application deadline is Monday, January 13, 2025. Details at snorri.is.


Ever since hearing about the Snorri Program, it had been something I looked forward to. But as we all know, life is busy, and I kept pushing it off. As the years went by and I slowly approached 30 (the age cutoff for the program), I knew I had to act soon or I’d regret it. So, as with everything in my life, I planned way ahead. I applied early and made all of my arrangements with work well in advance to ensure I got the time off. I had made checklists of must-see landmarks, and digital flashcards of common Icelandic phrases. I felt absolutely prepared… until I arrived.


Maia at the monument for “Bolú Hjalmar,” Maia's fourth great-grandfather (IR#I20657). Hjálmar Jónsson (29 September 1796 – 25 July 1875), better known as Bólu-Hjálmar (after his homestead in Bóla), was a 19th-century Icelandic farmer and poet.

Nothing could have prepared me for the whirlwind five weeks I spent in Iceland. From day one, I was completely taken out of my comfort zone. The language—those hard-to-

pronounce syllables and unfamiliar vowel sounds—was far more difficult to grasp than I had anticipated. Some of the clothes I’d packed didn’t stand a chance against the biting Icelandic wind. I found myself completely removed from the predictable life I had built back home, and it unnerved me much more than I had expected.


But I wasn’t alone. This year’s group of Snorris was made up of many different personalities, but everyone was kind and open with each other. My roommates and I quickly bonded, and it didn’t take long to realize we were all nervous. In the commotion of Reykjavík’s crowded streets and our packed itinerary, I began to feel more at ease and leaned into the comforting chaos that came with our large group. Then, we all separated for our homestays, and I was back to square one.


My homestay brought me to Akureyri, a six-hour bus ride from Reykjavík. The landscape was breathtaking with its snow-capped mountains and sheep grazing in the fields. But as we got closer to our destination I couldn’t stop overthinking. Although I was staying with my third cousin (Siggi) and his family, I met him for the first time when I got off the bus from Reykjavík. Initially, it felt like I was disrupting their family’s everyday lives, and I began to question whether I had prepared enough.


Maia’s family in Akureyri, L-R: Svala Sigurðardóttir, Sæmundur Friðfinnsson, Maia Chapman, Sigurður Hólm Sæmundsson, Ólöf Hörn Erlingsdóttir, Katla Snædís Sigurðardóttir, and Tumi Snær Sigurðsson.

Siggi’s family spoke English but they would often lapse into Icelandic. Our language courses in Reykjavík hadn’t taken me very far, and I ended up a silent observer during

many of my host family’s Icelandic conversations.


Although they were extremely welcoming and kind, I felt overwhelmed during our first dinner together. As we sat around the table eating ice cream for dessert (my first of many), Siggi raised his wine glass for a toast. Everyone grew quiet, and he looked at me and said, “Welcome, Maia. Thank you for being brave and coming all the way to Iceland to learn about your family.” My nervousness briefly slipped away, and his kind gesture warmed my heart. That night, I kept reflecting on what he had said—that I was brave—and it helped reframe a lot of the anxiety I had been feeling.


Siggi, Maia, Ólöf and Tumi at Detifoss.

Over the next two weeks, I got to know Siggi and his family well, and we developed a real

connection. One Saturday, we took a nine-hour road trip around the Skagafjörður area to explore our old family farm and other landmarks connected to our family’s history. I couldn’t believe the amount of time and energy my host family dedicated to my stay. They made me feel incredibly welcome and did everything they could to show me as much as possible in the short time we had. We visited hot springs, beautiful landmarks and tourist destinations, as well as a museum where we participated in a virtual reality Viking battle. I slowly grew comfortable and learned to appreciate the familiar cadence of their Icelandic banter, even when I couldn’t follow the words.


Maia and Siggi recreate a photo of their Great Grandfathers and siblings from 1972. Maia’s Great Grandfather (Magnús Jonasson IR#I20657 ) is on the far right, Siggi’s Great Grandfather (Hjortur Jonasson IR#I131452 ) is fourth from the left.

Every nervous feeling I had was worth the wonderful experience of seeing where my great-grandfather, Magnus Jonasson, grew up and the personal connections that I made. Going on Snorri was one of the best decisions, as it pushed me to grow.


I’m thankful for the opportunity to connect with my Icelandic roots and for the confidence I gained by throwing myself into completely new experiences. The lifelong relationships and memories I built are worth every nervous moment, and I remain beyond grateful for the financial support from Icelandic Roots, The Leif Eiriksson

Club of Calgary, and the Canada Iceland Foundation which helped make my Snorri adventure a reality.


Email us your questions or join the conversation on our Facebook Group.

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