As spring approaches, visitors to Whidbey Island increase, and this bloom lasts through summer. Each year, a couple of our guests decide to become residents.
I was once a guest, a visitor to Whidbey, and I became a resident, so I understand the appeal.
Without knowing the island, one
can conjure up all kinds of fantasies about Whidbey. This is not Fantasy Island, this is Whidbey Island, and more specifically, South Whidbey.
We are a divided island. South Enders and North Enders. These are two different worlds.
If you decide to live on Whidbey, you have to figure out if you are a North Ender or South Ender. It largely comes down to your tolerance for strip malls. South Enders are still fighting about whether a Dairy Queen should be allowed, and the Dairy Queen has been here for years.
The south end has a strong affinity for local ownership vs. chains or big box stores.
I went to my locally owned coffee shop and ordered a root beer and was told they don’t sell “those kind of sodas.” There is a strong organic, natural, health-oriented slant to just about everything.
I was dress shopping in a locally owned shop and was shown the soy-based dresses. I had heard of bamboo clothes, but soy dresses were new to me.
South Whidbey is ahead of the times when it comes to flushless toilets, biodegradable clothing and healthy soda. If you like Walmart, go to the north end.
We recently had lots of snow. Yes, it snows in paradise. Our buses stopped running, but that will not stop a Whidbey Island “commuter” from getting home. Since it is hard to make a living selling organic, healthy, soy-based items and not everyone has a knack for retail, we have many commuters who leave on the 5:30 a.m. ferry to get to work and return on the 5 p.m. boat.
No bus for a commuter is unacceptable. In a recent snowstorm, the commuters spotted an idle bus, persuaded the driver to open the door to tell someone the time, and then the commuters stormed the bus, demanding to be taken somewhere. I know this for fact because my husband was one of the commuters who commandeered the bus.
A small but mighty group of South Enders can rally. If you are sick, people will show up, for as long as it takes. You don’t need to “call” people, they find out and arrive.
My friends are my neighbors. We hang out with our neighbors. We celebrate all the kids growing up. In a community where we know each other by name, it’s an incredible thing to watch all the kids grow up. The kids come back and visit, some return to live, watching them choose to come and go is a local sport.
This all sounds idealized, and yet we are not ideal.
We have problems, just like everywhere else. We have kids and adults who find their way into meth and heroin. We have crowded classrooms, poverty, affairs, teen parents, unemployment, suicides and child abuse, and we are a long way from the hospital in an emergency.
The island is not a haven from problems. In some ways our problems are more apparent when juxtaposed to this ideal setting. But we are not completely overwhelmed by our problems. There seems to be more of those who seek the peace and tranquility of the island so we can also be a haven for the soul.
I look forward to spring and summer visitors, the guests who may become residents and add something to the fabric of our community and who will take joy in this place I call home.
They won’t recognize the “island kids” now grown; they may embrace the quirky local passion for soy, organic, biodegradable, recycling pride, and perhaps they will struggle to find their place within it. But there is a place to find. Not perfect, but home.
Sarri Gilman is a freelance writer living on Whidbey Island and director of Leadership Snohomish County. Her column on living with meaning and purpose runs every other Tuesday in The Herald. You can e-mail her at features@heraldnet.com.
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