Rain, art, history

We awoke yesterday morning to a rainy day. And rain it did, all day. All the more reason to linger over hot coffee. But eventually, we did leave our nest to drive into Friday Harbor for a visit to a small art museum with an exhibition by photojournalist James Longley.

Mr. Longley chose to document a poor neighborhood in Kabul. I felt like I was there. Emotionally impactful.

Upstairs, a documentary created by Longley about daily life in Kabul, was playing on a loop. We heard conversations of despair about the politics and in-fighting, corruption in government, the unwelcome presence of Americans. Particularly poignant was a vignette about a young teenaged boy whose dream it was to be educated enough to hold a high official position. His father, however, took him out of school to work in the family tin shop. We see the boy grimacing with sadness while pounding and cutting a piece of tin.

A block up the street from the art museum was the Historical Museum of San Juan. A collection of historical buildings circa…well, we can’t remember, but a long, long time ago. A farm home, school house, two-cell jailhouse, a creamery. We ran (brisk walked) through the rain from one small building to the next.

The more interesting information came from the docent whom we peppered with questions about life on the island in the present. The docent himself was a transplant from Arizona. He told us that If you pass muster with a group of elder, influential women (the grande dames they were called) and you make it past the three year mark, you will probably be okay to remain on the island and people will stop asking you if you are going to stay.  

The ferry is one of the main issues of island life. If you need to go over to the mainland, the ferry is obviously a must. Unfortunately, over the years and especially now as staff are affected by Covid, it has become more unreliable and sailings are sometimes cancelled. If you can’t tolerate the frustrations of the ferry, this life is probably not for you. Unless you can afford your own Cessna.

Built within the last couple of years is a new $30M hospital with emergency services, limited chemo facilities, a visiting MRI and best of all, you can get a colonoscopy without having to go to the mainland. If you’ve ever had one of these lovely procedures, imagine having to wait for the ferry in the middle of your prep. Excitement about the new hospital makes more sense when you learn that 60% of the population on the island are over 65.

Prior to the hospital, there was only a small medical clinic. If you had an emergency at night, you went to the clinic, called a number and waited for someone to show up. For critical emergencies, you are air lifted to Seattle via helicopter or small fixed wing aircraft.

One thing that has struck me about this island is the lack of diversity. In humans and in wildlife. We have yet to see a non-Caucasian face. Wildlife is primarily foxes, a small population of deer, sea gulls, an eagle or two, and a few shore birds.

We had a lovely late lunch at an upscale harbor restaurant, Downriggers. I had blackened cod tacos with cod seared to perfection. Claudia went for an appetizer of oysters followed by a thick, juicy burger. Margaret had a large bowl of clam chowder. Nancy went with the fish and chips. We were all pleased. 

Back at home, we engaged in a rollicking game of Canfield and a quick Silver Sneakers dance workout featuring the old time Pony, Jerk, and Twist steps.

Today, we kayak…possibly in the rain. Stay tuned for the next exciting adventure.