Vancouver, BC, Canada Continued…

By Abraham Freeman

October 14, 2024

With the previous night's atmosphere and confectioneries still fresh in our minds we yearned for another great bakery café. My wife, having given up TikTok recently, turned to YouTube shorts to do some research. She did this all before I woke up. Out of the two of us, I was the one who could sleep until eleven each day along with having the ability to sleep through any noises throughout the night. This usually meant she had a plan for the day before I woke.

Getting the morning brew can sometimes make or break my day. I think this is more about the ritual than the actual drink. When I say brew, I mean to reference coffee or tea. I have given up the energy-filled drinks opting for a slightly lighter one, tea. We donned our sweaters, grabbed our raincoats, and set out. We found parking two blocks from the café. As we walked my wife informed me that this was no ordinary coffee shop. The building was in the shape of an onion. As the café came into view layers of metal in the shape of an artistic onion appeared. The building gleamed in a hot rod red. Entering, we were funneled by cloth belt barriers to the cash register. We were directed to a seat and were told that a waiter would bring us our coffee, tea, avocado toast, and pull-apart bread.

Nemesis Coffee Shop Credit:Abraham Freeman

Ribs of white cloth ran down from the center of the ceiling to the bench seat I sat on. We had decided to alternate who got to sit on the cushioned bench seat that allowed for optimal people-watching. She had this prime seat at Breka, so now it was my turn. Unlike at Breka, almost everyone sat without a computer. Most had a counterpart with whom they were chatting. Maybe it was the lack of charging outlets or that this café was run more like a restaurant where a hostess showed you to your seat.

I had no idea of what we were going to do today and I thought my wife didn’t either. However, I should have known better. My wife usually has a plan or an idea for one.

“What about going to the Museum of Anthropology?” She said.

I hadn’t heard of it, but I was always eager to visit a museum. With that, we finished our treats and followed Apple Maps. Along the way, we drove through a stretch of town lined with small boutiques, bakeries, and name-brand stores. We vowed we would come back at a later time. That was one of the great things about being in a new area with no hard fast schedule. You can discover places you might not find online or think to venture to until you pass physically through them.

We found parking in a parking structure a few blocks away, then made our way to the Museum of Anthropology or MOA. We purchased our tickets and immediately hit the gift shop before entering the museum. Growing up, I always loved the museum gift shops, sometimes more than the museums themselves. It probably has to do with the consumer culture that we live in. We pursued the isles while looking at the plethora of art pieces. Eventually, we made our way to the trinkets that were comparatively cheaper by hundreds of dollars.

Okay, now that I had gotten my consumer urges out of my system I was ready to venture into the museum with an open mind. Immediately we entered onto a ramp. We descended step by step as we stopped to read about the beautiful wood carvings that lined the sides. Many of them had a melancholy undertone to them. The fact that Western white culture systematically attempted to wipe out the First Nations People is reason enough for this melancholy undertone. With the art, spiritual, and everyday artifacts within a few feet of my face, the realization of this became that more real.

Eventually, we entered a grand gallery filled with totem poles that I would have guessed to be at least thirty feet tall. There was so much information that I couldn't take it all in and truly appreciate it in my single visit. So, I focused on a few pieces. One of my favorites was the bentwood boxes. Here I summarize a plaque that I read from the Museum of Anthropology. The boxes were made by cutting the wood into the shape of a box as if the box was flat. I thought about this, it seemed similar to how cardboard boxes begin their life. However, this was no cardboard box. Once cut, the wood was notched, steamed, folded, and bent into its box shape. This made me reflect upon the current time that we live in, where boxes are few and far between in being as elegant, artistic, and useful as the bentwood box.

As we ventured deeper into the museum we began to realize that they held artifacts from multiple cultures. We looked at samurai swords from Japan, bowls, and jewelry from countless countries in Africa, and arctic suits from the native people from Alaska. To have all of these tools and pieces of art housed in one space it is important to remember that they did not all come freely. Museums in general have a track record of removing artifacts from tombs and also taking them from the people that were still using them. So even though I experience a feeling of excitement and awe when I visit a museum there is also an undertone of sadness. Sadness for the destruction that people inflict upon other people. Taking this all into account the Museum of Anthropology is still one of my highlights from the trip due to the ability that I can educate myself on the people that came before me and the cultures that populate the world.

The ability to travel is a privilege. Some people only can venture a couple of blocks from their homes while others can travel across vast oceans. For the people who are not able to travel, I hope that my articles provide a glowing ember in your day.