By SARAH KHAN It was late afternoon and the colors of Muhu Island in Estonia were at their most kinetic: Neon-green mosses clinging to tawny cottages seemed aglow against the deepening blue sky. It’s an enchanting hour, one that would be best spent inhaling the crisp late-summer air and watching the sleepy island inch languorously from day into night. But I hadn’t figured that out yet. I was determined to find something to do. Which explains how I found myself at an accordion concert.
Many of Muhu’s 2,000 residents appeared to have joined me for the occasion, clearly an eagerly anticipated program on the island’s somewhat limited social calendar. While this seemed like the type of event held primarily for the benefit of tourists, I was fairly certain my friend Sabiha and I were the only foreigners present. All around us, beneath the thatched eaves of the Kunstitall art gallery, audience members sang along throatily to an Estonian folk song mocking the plight of a boy being rejected by his beloved’s father. People leapt up periodically for impromptu jigs.
