We started clearing the table of all the food we didn’t eat! Left over muscles with bacon and oranges, three salads (we brought one), rice, fried chick peas..

Joe left to pick up his son at the airport. I think he also had fresh seafood there.

“Susie, what is in all these bottles?”

“Oh, Kombucha!” And Brie and my suspicions are confirmed.. This woman is Brie’s mom she never had.

And back to our conversation:

“Well where IS he moving to?”

We helped Susie clean up dinner as she told us about their tenant.

“He is Russian and he is going to be moving next year. He is going to move to an island off of Africa. Oh but now I can’t remember the name of it..”

“Madagascar?”

“No it’s not Madagascar, I think it’s East of Madagascar..”

“Well, I could look at a map.” And before you know it, Susie has unfolded an atlas that would swallow a student’s desk or a high top table. I haven’t looked at an atlas in years..

We can’t place it.

“I think it is West of the Indian Ocean but East of Madagascar.. I think it even sounds like Madagascar..”

Eventually we have to relent and unfold the other atlas: google maps. “Mauritius?”

“Mauritius! That’s it, Mauritius.”

You could tell by how she talked about her tenant that she was fond of him.

Susie continues to mention her student who she takes classes with. He is autistic so she is assigned to him by the school. She finds the classes really interesting. “It’s like learning everything over again, but now I care more about what I’m learning!”

“I’ve been with him since the seventh grade but next year he is going to graduate.” She may retire after that. She has so many projects she’d like to do if she has the time.

“And have you girls seen that movie the end of the line? That is a movie I watched with my student. There is an island somewhere in the Pacific made up entirely of plastic. It’s like a floating plastic island!”

We start to make moves from the table.

“Oh Look Susie, it looks like you’ve had someone visit you from Atlanta before!”

She says “Oh yes but you should still pin it.” Brie and I grab pins and stick them into our hometowns.

Then Susie picks up another pin and says “Here, let’s put one here.” And pins it to Guatemala, where I’ll be staying.

“So when will you be coming back to Ketchikan?” She asks as we hug goodbye.

Brie says: “Well I will be coming back probably some time next summer.”

“Well if you do, you have to stay with us. We have this big house and no one to fill it!”

Truly loving people who opened their home to us.
Brie and I left feeling so special and loved and honored. They fed us like we might never have a home meal again, and sat and told us about their families. What more could you hope for from any place you live?

I’m surprised that Joe and Susie aren’t tired of the revolving door of seasonals. The fact that they would be open to our presence in their home, in spite of our transience, was very unexpected.

I think they miss having young people in their house as their children have just flown the coop.

I’ll say this: I’ll never be able to predict what wonderful people I will meet and how grateful I am to know them. I cherish each conversation, even if it’s purely small talk at the beginning. Sharing a meal and a spot of someone’s routine is a real gift.

For all of the tourists who come through this port but never build relationships, I’m seeing that the Alaskans are uniquely skilled at being hospitable to one another. If someone spends more than one night in Ketchikan, they are already more connected to this town than most of the visitors. Port calls from the cruise ships usually only last a few hours. If you shop at a grocery store here, if you know the names of the locals or can recognize someone’s car, you have become a fiber of the community. Even if you don’t return, or don’t stay, you’ve been woven into the social landscape of this town.

And I felt all of that at dinner with Joe and Susie. And I’m grateful.