The Day I Fell In Love.

Folks, it has happened.  I have officially fallen in love. 

With San Francisco.

For the few months following my move up here at the end of May this past year, I enjoyed the city as if I were in Orientation Week of college -- of course I loved it.  The public transportation was so convenient!  The people so friendly - new friends, old friends, all the time!  The fun in abundance!  Marina, Polk Street, the Mission!  The food!  The views!  The culture, the smells, the everything!

And then the honeymoon phase ended.

Public transportation took too long and I couldn't figure out logistics of, say, how to pick up and deliver a bed without a car.  I couldn't wear heels because the hills are too steep.  The incessant smells on the streets started to make my head swirl.  My wallet was suffering from all the 'fun in abundance' I was having.  The views compared nothing to my beautiful SoCal beaches.  I missed my family.  I missed my friends.  I missed the sun & fresh air.

And of course, the FOG.  Don't get me started on the fog. 

But in this past week, I could feel the gears slowly turning, turning turning, and today, it clicked: this city ROCKS.

This morning, D & I woke up and contemplated all our weekend plans: should she go to the football game, or to Oktoberfest?  Meanwhile, should I go hiking in the Redwood Forest, or should I go to yoga in the park/Farmer's Market/California Academy of Science?  And then we'd meet up for a movie in the park?  Really, the options were just too much to handle.

After taking a step back from our "first world problems" (but seriously), I stepped back and grinned.  This is a common theme on the weekends here: not being able to decide what to do in the city, because there's so much TO do! 

Though I love, love, love LA, never was there a day there when I could do as much as I did today, all via public transport, all alone - because there is no taboo here - and with an option to ditch out at any time for another activity.  There is always something for someone in this city. 

In that respect, SF reminds me of Las Vegas -- at the end of the day, you will always come back, no matter where you go or what you decide to do - with a story.

For example, today:

• I made friends with a random man on the bus, who didn't know where he was going, but he wanted brunch.
• A few minutes later, I went to the Farmer's Market in the Ferry Bldg, where I purchased my favorite (but oh-so-expensive) Warren Pears and Plums.  They are to die for.
• After strolling around a bit, I then witnessed a man punch a girl who stole a necklace from his girlfriend.  Police, chaos, etc., ensued.  Huh.
• Then, I went to the Cal Academy of Sciences to meet up with some friends from LA.  Admission was free for Cole Valley Residents today, so I got to see baby ostriches, a killer aquarium, and (almost hold) butterflies today.  I am telling you, this place rocks.
• "Midnight in Paris" was showing in Washington Square Park this evening, so D and I packed up our blankies, a bottle of vino, and some snacks to join hundreds of other Friscans under the starry sky.  The best part of watching this movie were all the other elements going on: I could see the movie, hear sirens from SFPD (mixed with the lovely Parisian soundtrack), smell weed (always), and almost taste the pizza from Tony's, my favorite pizza place in all of SF, right across the street.  
• The night didn't end.  We went to D's friends' place nearby, and finished off the night with great new friends, conversation, and laughs.
• To top it off, on our walk home, Dena and I saw a car pull over to the side of the road, where a girlfriend started beating up her boyfriend.  This city is WILD.
• Did I mention that on Thursday, I went to the Mission with some new friends and went dancing at a North African reggae club?  Too cool.

On that Thursday night, I met Chloe, who I can sense is definitely a "soul sister" and is just a totally cool chick from France.  She has traveled the world, and told me that once she got to San Francisco, her need to travel subsided. 

SF has it all.  And I am SO glad I'm here.

(But I still don't like the fog!)

Houston, TX: Taxi Traveling

I write from a plush bed at the Hilton Americas in Houston, TX. I haven't really stepped outside the hotel much these past few days because I am here on a work trip, not to mention the weather here confuses me (how is it 80 degrees with a chance of showers?!) but I still have experienced a good amount of culture.

And it ain't Texan culture.

The few experiences I've had with people outside the hotel -- that is, outside my coworkers and the hundreds of chipper young girls and full-grown-women-with-pigtails who are here for the National Girl Scout Convention (I can count so many green Girl Scout skirts, but zero Thin Mints in sight. There is something wrong with this picture.) -- have been with taxi drivers. Since my arrival, I've been driven by two men from Ethiopia and one from Nigeria, the two African countries from which a majority of people have emmigrated to Houston.

My drivers have all been exceedingly friendly and affable; quite talkative; and very open about their cultures. They are also into their families. I've learned the following:

- It's very common for men in Ethiopia to have multiple wives as a form of status. My first taxi driver said his brother at home has four wives and spends a week per month with each wife -- and a handful of his 28 children. 28. children.

- Ethiopia is very green. My first driver went as far to say that "There is no difference between Houston and Ethiopia...they are ze same! Ethiopia...just greener!" However, I think I'll need to head over to Ethiopia to validify that claim. ;)

- Somalia is one of the most dangerous African countries, according to one of my drivers. Nigeria is, too, for tourists who don't know their way around (but isn't that true with any and all countries?).

- Music is a huge part of their culture and history. My driver tonight fully blasted Nigerian music all the way back to the Hilton and explained that Nigerian music has good messages. Wholesome messages. Like "be proud of your children" and "be good to your wife" (hm, wives?).

It's incredible how one can travel the world through conversation and interaction. Taxi traveling, as I've dubbed it. Through Houston, I've somewhat traveled Africa.

It's all about cultural diplomacy: people are incredible tools for action, understanding, and change, if we all took the time to listen and engage with each other.

Celebrating Hapa Kids

Zara just released their October Lookbook for kids, and I immediately fell in love with this little boy.

My roommate and I decided he must have a cool, location-based name. Like London or Brooklyn. Because he probably travels around the world with his well-to-do parents. And he probably plays with toy airplanes -- never Nintendo DS. And he grew up speaking three languages, one of them being an Asian language, because he's hapa -- and ADORABLE.


There is no other reason for this this post other than to point out how handsome this little man is, and to celebrate interracial marriages! I come from a family that contains a lot of mixed marriages; it's really beautiful to be able to blend cultures, genetics, accents and languages -- and to be able call everyone 'family'.

Cheers to open mindedness and cute hapa kids!

PURA VIDA. COSTA RICA.

At the end of September 2011,  I spent 8 days in Costa Rica with one of my best friends from undergrad, Kristine.

Since the beginning of the year, K & I had been wanting to go to Latin America and, after stumbling upon their website, decided to go with Toronto-based G Adventures.

For a variety of reasons, it was one of the most life-changing trips for both of us.

The adventures while traveling were, of course, memorable, as they always are...

Like when we went rappelling down 220 ft waterfalls; cannon-balled our way into the tiniest of water holes - a mandatory to get down the mountain; and stopped the torrential down-flow of mountain water as human shields...

Or when we went on the most treacherous hike of my life, only to be given the opportunity to jump off mile-high rocks into a pool that led into another waterfall...

 

Or when we went Class IV white water rafting, my most favorite hobby in the whole world, and laughed, laughed, laughed as we were smacked by Costa Rican trees, swallowed and spit out by its murky, foaming waters, and gleefully encouraged by our mustached, Costa Rican, guide of a guide, Luis...

 Or when we danced on the ferry ride home: cumbia, salsa, merengue, atop the boat, with the locals - as if it were as normal as buying a hot dog at a baseball game (because it IS normal there!)...

 But of course, the best times were spent with friends.  All the new friends we made on our trip, with whom we bonded as we swung for hours on hammocks in the night, usually humid sky; or when we built bonfires together and swapped stories -- and how to best make s'mores...

PEOPLE are what always make the trip.  Always, hands-down.  I will venture to say that Costa Rica was not unlike any adventure I had while living in Thailand or even Australia; the beaches are surely not as impressive as Thailand, the food not as spicy or obscure; the culture not as wild different as I'd expected.

But on our trip, K and I both met people who will forever be in our lives.  Specifically, two other people who live in different countries, but share the same zest for travel, for doing better in the world, for LIVING.  Our lives are definitely better because of those 8 days and the people we met on that trip.

And we have Cacique to thank.  Just kidding!

PURA VIDA!