On my second day in San Francisco, I went to a bakery that specializes in homemade cookies situated just around the corner from my apartment. They have flavors like “oatmeal chocolate chip” and “cookies and cream.” The owner of the bakery smiled and asked me about my day, remarking that he hadn’t seen me around before.
“Is this your first time here?” he asked.
“Yes, I just moved to the neighborhood, actually,” I responded.
“Oh, where from?”
“New York.” I paused. “That’s why I’m not used to people being nice to me for no reason.”
Everywhere I go in San Francisco people are nice to me for no reason other than that it’s polite to say “Good morning” when you pass someone on the sidewalk, to give a passerby an encouraging smile if they look dejected, to strike up friendly conversation in line at the local coffee shop. It’s a cliche that New Yorkers don’t possess this kind of genuine kindness, but in a city with a reputation like New York’s, some wear brusqueness as a badge of honor. There is none of that here, or at least I’ve encountered very little of it. I think it has something to do with the weather, which never tilts into the extreme. A 30-degree temperature range can have quite a calming effect on a person.
At the BART station there is no pushing or jostling like on the subway in New York. I don’t return home from my commute aching and covered in elbow-shaped bruises. Each train door is carefully delineated by a black square on the platform, and passengers calmly line up behind the squares and file in one at a time after the other passengers exit. There isn’t the same sense of urgency here. I’ve already been told on more than one occasion that I “walk too fast.”
New York is laid out like a factory floor, every right angle of the grid carefully calculated. In San Francisco, hills rise at 37.5% grade, roads make way for the ocean–even the urban planners and cartographers here embrace nature’s chaos. The smell of jasmine lingers everywhere. Days slink by gracefully, with sweetness.
When they can, people here spend whole days in parks without feeling like they’ve squandered their time. Mornings, I leave the house in sweatpants without feeling self-conscious. Apartments smell like lavender and eucalyptus; to have a Blackberry is to be “old school.” The heart of San Francisco beats at this strange conjunction of organic and technophilic–to find the nearest natural food store, just whip out your iPhone.
I’d heard it said that San Francisco was a dirty city; that’s true, but I don’t mind it so much. At night, the temperature here drops into the 50’s. “You’re lucky you arrived before the weather gets really cold,” a friend told me.
“But it’s about to be summer,” I say.
He laughs. “Here, that’s the coldest season of all.”
According to him, the honeymoon period with San Francisco can last up to three years.
I’ll take it.
Aww this makes me almost think happily about the Bay Area instead of “meh.”
The people being friendly thing… Anytime I go back to New Mexico or Missouri I’m always, like, confused when people say hi to me on the street. I temporarily forget what they’re saying and am just worried about what they want from me. It must be refreshing for people to be so friendly.
Also, those cookies sound great.
Hope SF is going well!!
Hey Jess,
This sounds absolutely wonderful. I love San Fransisco as well, and I’m so excited that it’s going well for you!
I myself have just relocated to the West Coast, but down to Los Angeles. (Ew).
I love reading your updates, knowing I’m not the only one going through a move that’s turned my life upside down.
Best of luck!
there is pushing on Muni, maybe not so much on Bart. Never take the 30, 45, or any Muni that runs through the loin if you can avoid it. San Franciscans have infinitely better temperament than New Yorkers, in my opinion, because of the lower population density, the cleaner sidewalks, and as you pointed out, evenness of temperature. Remember that when you can’t find a taxi when you really need to be somewhere or at 2 am leaving a friend’s apartment, when all the restaurants are closed and it’s only 10:30 pm, or when you’ve dressed for 70 degree daytime weather to find that it’s 55 at night and you’ve left your sweater at home.