This may sound a bit hipster. I’m in San Francisco.
Written while sitting on the San Francisco MUNI public transportation, via iPhone notepad.
Looking out the window, I see an abundance of difference. A plethora of diversity. A spectacle of unseen for a Midwestern boy seeking out new culture like Fivel went west. Tonight was a night that fully evolved around new food, new places, and new people. After successfully purchasing a Clipper card to access public transportation, I hopped on the public transit in San Francisco and strolled to Upper Haight to join in the festivities called “Off the Grid”.
Every Thursday evening, tons of people from around the area gather near the park as the best food trucks gather around for an international festival of foods and drink. I met a woman who had just moved back for grad school after two years of teaching in Honduras (she had wonderful stories), all discussed over a phenomenal handful of sweet potato fries with lemon, basil, garlic, and feta (LIBA Falafel). The regulars recommended a delicious Chicken Tikka Massala burrito from Curry Up Now, and I wrapped up the event with a heart-stopping Tiramasu cupcake from Cupkates. I will admit, Columbus knows how to do food trucks extremely well, especially Mikey’s Late Night Slice, but San Francisco took a nice run for the top prize tonight.
The MUNI was today’s conquered battle. Public transportation has never been my forte. I come from a town (or village/township) where public transportation typically referred to a four wheeler you borrowed from the neighbor or the day where people drove their tractors to school. I remember fearing for my life in college when I hopped onto the Phoenix railway and sat across from a homeless man who was higher than a kite and staring right at me with reflections of his days in war. That moment scared the desire to hop on trains and buses right out of me. Today I find a new, deeper respect for these routes. Even though I may not totally understand why I must “take the N” or “get a Clipper pass, then toss on the BART credit”, I can certainly feel this city already. It is almost ironic that in the moment I write this, I am listening to one of my favorite artists, Sigur Ros. Some of the most intimate moments I have had with music in my life involve this band as they sing Icelandic gibberish. I may not understand it, but I feel it. I get it.
I get what they are about. In San Francisco, presumptuous is less of an adjective or more of a lifestyle. But within that vulnerability and ability to build confidence in self, I see an honest, caring community of people that realize we’re all doing this thing called life at the same time. So why not do it together over a falafel or sangria? Diversity wins. Embrace it.