Comments on Continuing Culture Shock
I moved to California nine months ago from Nashville, where I lived (well, in and around) from birth until the age of 30. I moved to take a job in San Francisco, arguably one of the most liberal cities in the country, if not the world. Despite working in the Financial District, I moved into a city that just might win the afore mentioned argument: Berkeley, the city that manages to take San Francisco’s liberalism and ratchet it up a notch. Or two. Life here for me is faster and foreign but beautiful. The past three-quarters of a year has been one immense blur. I can barely keep up.
I am often stopped where I walk. I am struck still by a brand new experience almost every day, some as tiny as a speck of glitter. But, oh my, do they shine. They are made up of elements I’ve seen before, but each behaves in a way that I am completely unfamiliar with. It’s kind of been like being on vacation for a long time (and just as expensive!), save for all the working and chores and washing your own towels stuff.
It feels cliche, I have to say, to write about my fish-out-of-water experiences in this transient city, where surely every one else sings the same song. But I should get them down for me, for later, because this has been an exhilarating ride so different from just about everything I have ever known. I’m also afraid it lends itself to stereotype, which I want to try desperately to avoid. Kind of. Hyperbole is funny, and I’m a cheap whore for laughs, so we’ll see what happens. Also: These are not judgments, these are merely personal observations. (Okay, there might be a little judgment, but I’m gonna try to dish it out to both sides of the coast.)
It’s going to be a series of posts, as this shit is way too long to be trying to write at 11:30 on a Tuesaday night:
Ways in Which This Place Is Not Like the Other, Part One:
- When people told me they were the outdoorsy type in Nashville, which were relatively few, I always presumed they meant hunting, fishing, boating or hiking. I never really knew many campers, especially the type of camping where you had to shit in a hole you dug yourself in the woods, then bury the pile. People around here? They love to shit in a hole in the woods. They’ve got their North Face (Social Climbing)* gear all ready to go, complete with Nalgene water bottle and compression packs and headlamps. The number of people who own kayaks skews very high. It’s insane. When people in Nashville talk about their gear they are talking about their guitar and their amp. Around here when people talk about gear they are talking about their rock climbing gear. Because they are going to scale some cliffs this weekend, brah. It will be really extreme. Also, if you don’t ride a bike around these parts you ain’t shit. And there better not be any brakes on that motherfucker.
- The panhandlers, they are experts in their field. One of my favorites is a guy who sits at Battery and California. He’s always on time for his shift. He doesn’t sleep on the street, at least not there, because if I’m there beyond 10 p.m. he’s gone. I’ve never seen him so much as nod off. I don’t think this guy drinks or does drugs. His cheeks are full, and his demeanor is friendly and relaxed. He has a little boombox that he listens to, but I can never hear it. The other day a couple were walking along, a to-go box inside a bag in hand. The bag must have read Tadich Grill because Mr. Battery & California yelled out, “I love Tadich Grill!” It took all I had to not laugh when the man got his wish: tasty high-quality restaurant food that cost probably $20 or more per plate. It’s a whole different scene than panhandlers in Nashville, who I always found to be a slightly scary. They were persistent, would follow me, then call me names if I declined. Here, there is “no,” and that is the end of the conversation.
- Sorry, Nashville, but it’s true: Y’all did not condition me for same sex kissing in public. Still surprises the shit out of me. Then I love it. I wanna be all, “Kiss some more!” But that would be seen as pervy, and not an outburst brought on by the awesomeness that in the Bay Area lovers of all kinds get to express affection without risk of violence or scorn. Still, when an adoption agency rents out all the ad space on BART with large posters of gay couples with their young kids, everyone all smiles, and there isn’t a single letter to the editor I have to wonder, “What the fuck kind of place is this? Some kind of magical tolerant Disneyland where gay love is not only accepted, but downright celebrated?” I’ll take it.
Stay tuned for upcoming installments that include such unique and astute observations as People Here are Really into the Environment and Summer in San Francisco is Cold.
*Stolen joke.
17 comments ↓
Point of order: London, Stockholm, Berlin. All of those cities are far more liberal than us. We’re just more smug and self-satisfied about it, but those guys live it every day instead of just having sit-ins about it.
When somebody tries to convince you that SF is at the very end of the liberal-city spectrum, they’re really trying to draw a line in the sand — to mess with your mental model of what “liberal” means. Call it neo-McCarthyism.
Oh dear, Nalgene is so yesterday, with their dangerous outgassing plastic - Sigg or bust! (Unless you are careful to get the newest Nalgenes, of course.)
I was at the Giants game last night and thought to myself “how many other baseball stadiums sell hot chocolate and coffee in the stands like this?”
Then I wondered “and how many of them would not just have hot chocolate and coffee, but have guys with Tully’s coffee kegs strapped to their backs, dispensing coffee, and Ghiradelli chocolate?”
I spent most of my early adult life getting as far away from here as I could but finally returned in 2000. It’s not like it was, but it’s fine. And it’s not really that “liberal” anymore, and will continue to move to the center with rent being 2k/month.
Oh wow, you’re making me miss that area so much.
I’m so glad you’re chronicling your transition like this. I like living vicariously through you. Maybe some day I’ll get to go through experiences like this. In the meantime, I’ll just let you prepare me for them with your colorful writing.
Dude, you have GOT to get your ass up to Seattle for a visit. The whole outdoor/gear thing is taken to WAY bigger extremes up here — REI’s flagship store is a mile or so from my house and it’s like the supply shop for the entire city. All jackets in Seattle are designed to climb Mt. Rainier. I like to think Seattle taught SF how to camp. This may not be true, but zomg we will pull out our swiss army knife and battle it to the death, all the while keeping our compostable coffee cups in the other hand and never spilling a drop of macchiato.
I miss the Bay Area every day of the month except the one day I write the check for my totally reasonable mortgage payment. It ain’t Earth out there, but it sure is nice!
Keep it weird.
CLC
I love reading about your adventures. You sound so happy, it’s awesome.
I have to say, though, that we must have had different experiences with the outdoors in Nashville. Everyone I know who considers themselves “outdoorsy” does pretty much what you mention about San Francisco (well, except the rock climbing.) I know several people who explore caves all over the Nashville area and KY, and people who kayak and canoe religiously. Ian (my Ian, hehe) and a few of his friends do the shit-in-a-hole camping fairly regularly, and they–and several others I know–love to set out on days-long canoe trips where they just float their asses down a river someplace and camp where they don’t think there are “many bears.” Me, I’m find to go someplace for a weekend. Without bears. And I prefer a bathhouse to a hole. But I’m from Chicago. So I think that’s expected of me.
But still, there are people who like to rough it a bit around here. Maybe they are found more often in the ‘Boro than in Nashville?
Brittney, this reminds me so much of Mary Ann Singleton. You *must* read Tales of the City.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tales_of_the_City
^ hopes you see that as a compliment, not a “this schtick has been done before.” i’m loving your perceptions.
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How is it possible that I miss someone I never knew?
Like I’ve said here before, I love your life.
I’m so happy for you and your newest adventures. I know one thing for sure. I’m in Nashville and you are there and I sure do miss you.
I just visited SF for the first time ever this past weekend. I was amazed. I’d move there in a heartbeat if living weren’t so cheap here in Texas. I was pointing out the panhandlers to a friend. You certainly do have a higher level of panhandler in San Fran. I lived in Chicago for a while, and I’ve worked out a hierarchy of panhandler. Entry-level are those guys that just shake a bucket of change outside the Walgreens. Then you have the person that comes up and asks you for a specific dollar amount, usually well under $1.00. It’s a genius move. Who has $0.16 in their pocket? Nobody, that’s who. But I’ve got a dollar, and you know what, there’s no way this guy’s going to buy crack or booze with $0.16, so he must be alright. That is a professional, high-level panhandler. A true craftsman. Ask for $0.16, and I’ll gladly give you more than that. Great psychology. Not aggressive, not preachy (I’ve heard enough hard-luck stories… just tell me how much you want and if I’ve got it, I’ll probably give it to you). Anyways, sorry for the ramble, but I had to comment. Love the blog.
Last time I was in SF at a conference, I was aproached by a panhandler after I’d left an invitation-only party sponsored by a hardware vendor. open bar, lots of food and they’d forgotten to take my invite. Too good an opportunity to resist.
Last vacation there was the day of the gay pride parade. really not like here. really, really not.
There are the North Face hole-shitters here, but they tend to be more in the Brentwood/Franklin area. There’s something about the novelty of the well-off spending a lot of money to pretend to be poor that resonates with a segment of folks.
And I do know firsthand that there ARE bike snobs in this town–seeing as I’m married to one. Although he lovingly talks about that one vigilante bike group out in SF all the time. Damn. Why can’t I think of their name? You know whom I’m speaking of, correct? The group who are always having Bike-Ins and blocking traffic with their rallies…
this made me miss my bay area peeps and my home there so very very much. i laughed out loud about “the no brakes on that motherfucker. ” and oh how i miss that gentleman panhandler!
thank you, thank you. for capturing what makes san francisco hold my heart so dear. i may be living in utah, but my heart will forever be there.
Oh man! I am such a misplaced country girl in this city and I too am shocked daily. SHOCKED I tell you. It’s fucking fabulous. Now, I am going to go hide in a corner and suck my thumb - because shit - this city is weird!
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