Mi despedida a San Francisco

"It seems like everywhere I go, the more I see, the less I know..."

I woke up this morning to a bright burst of Sunday sunshine, blue skies and the quintiessential manicured green lawns that exist in sleepy streets of the suburbs of North America. This time, I’ve landed back in Oakville to the familiarity of Mumsy’s modest bungalow tucked within the labyrinth of small, Pleasantville-like side streets in this notoriously excessive suburb of Toronto. This week of preparing for India has been a welcome blessing; providing stable lily pad of which to launch off of into the unknown of India this Tuesday.

I left San Francisco almost exactly 7 days ago, on a dark Sunday morning before the sun had even bridged the horizon. The big blue airport shuttle (BART wasn’t running at that hour) came to collect me as their last stop before the airport, totting a full bus load of sleepy eyed travellers to the impending departures at SFO....

My last weekend in SF, mi despedida, ended up being a grand adieu to the city that has begun a transformation in my mind, my heart and approach on life, and to what has helped bring the Year of Passion to a reality.

That last Friday afternoon in SF, circa 3 pm, I received a text from a new friend, Bryan, I had met that week at Ritual Coffee house on Valencia that previous Wednesday. I soon found out that Bryan is a San Franciscan native, born’n’raised, and thus a rarity in this transient city, who renovates Victorian-era houses by day and photographs musicians and bands by night. Not a bad combo. The text read: “Wanna go surfing?”. End scene. WHAT!??! Last weekend in California and am getting an opportunity to go surfing – POST WORK!!! My little heart could hardly believe it. Fast forward 2.5 hours, and the surfing plan has been kyboshed:

Friday afternoon traffic + setting sun = raincheck.

BUT in its place, a bike ride and ice cream at debatably one of the city’s most unique ice cream joints, Humphry Slocombe on Harrison @ 24th street. One scoop of Jesus Juice sorbet (aka red wine and cola) for me and a double scooper of whammy of Cayenne Cantaloupe and Prosciutto (as in the salted meat)

for B.man, before we made our way to Precita Park for a chit chat

before parting ways for the evening: I to my newly Friday tradition of red wine and friends and him to a shoot with some “picky and last minute” musician friends who were going on tour and needed some pics before doing so.

When it rains, it pours…Brian’s I guess, because soon after, I met up Brian, a former roommate and the Puerto Rican acupuncture student whose current living situation with a middle-aged Sci-Fi author and owner of 2 fat, old cats at a 2 bedroom flat on Treat Street has him hounding the pages of Craigslist for alternate "arrangements". The remainder of the evening consisted of a $4 bottle of wine, great convo and a plethora of ridiculously delicious, authentic Mexican food from La Oaxaqueña, a little gem on Mission Street @ 16th with amazing, authentic food, sweet smiles and a welcome BYOB policy (or in our case BYOW) policy. Pollo y mole (a cocoa/chocolate based smooth and salty sauce from the south of Mexico) corn tamale wrapped in plantain leaves...

a taco (bison, maybe?)and 3 Salvadorian Pupusas (a corn dough “patty” stuffed with anything from spinach and goat cheese, mixed veg to pulled pork or chicken)...

Thirsty for more, we headed to the infamous Café Revolution on 22nd and Valencia. With happy, tipsy souls overflowing onto the sidewalk and streets, the inside of the café was full and two spirited performers were singing, drumming and strumming Spanish music in the corner.

The minty cool of a freshly made mojito, my often-forgotten-favourite drink, complimented the warm air, smooth music and cha cha cha of the songstresses’ handheld shaker.

The following Saturday morning, my eyes were met again with sunshine, and the excitement and unease of fitting in a super Saturday to my last weekend in SF justice. Thankfully, it was not too difficult to do when surrounded by friends and great people, beautiful sunshine, an amazing city and positivity in your mind.

Waking at just past 8:30am, I attempted to finish up packing up – one for my bag to go back with me and another box (or 2) to reside temporarily at Lauren and Sean’s place. A bike ride, a spicy chai coffee @ Haus and trip to the Alemany farmers market with Karla, the capoeira dancing chica

from Puerto Rico who is a former room mate as well, and teaches new media at an inner city school’s after-school program. A few hours later, we collected Caleb from the house, and as the 3 of us peddled our way to Golden Gate Park to join forces with 25,000 spirited, peaceful people at the free Power to the Peaceful music and yoga festival happening that weekend in the park.

An annual event held on September 11, there is no cover fee, just by donation only, and this year featured a 5,000 person yoga session on Saturday morning, a main stage with 5 hours of non-stop music, including the cheerful Cali tunes of Michael Franti.

Just saw he's apparently also caught Obama fever too...

A San Francisco native, Michael Franti is an SF native and recently has been walking barefoot for 10 years to experience what 300 million kids who don’t have shoes feel like...

As we arrived to the centre grounds for the festival, a sea of people, beautiful music, plumes of smoke and rows upon rows of bike racks awaited us. You could honestly feel the energy as you approached.

After a sun soaked afternoon of dancing, hoolahooping, snacking and enjoyment, as the music stopped promptly at 5, the signature fog of SF rolled in and ushered the crowds through to their bikes, cars and sidewalks to head to their next destinations. Karla and I met up again with Caleb and Laura at Laura’s place in the Haight for a warm tea. I came home, made dins, finished packing and moved my bags, bike and self to the place it all began – the Goddess Vortex on Harrison – aka my old house, for my last night, although this night would be spent on the familiar cushions in the living room.

I took a shower 11pm, and in the spirit of seizing every moment, met up with Cliff at just past midnight, despite a 5 AM wake-up that morning for an 8am flight. A dreadlock-ed music teacher also born’n’raised in SF, Cliff and I met for the first time last Sunday, as we passed each other on the street in the Mission last week on a Sunday night.

That night we went to Karla’s recommended hole-in-the-wall dive bar The Attic at 24th and Mission. A vodka soda for me, a Jim and Coke for him, easy conversation ensued and his love of SF, teaching music and life was an eye opener as he brought to the forefront that despite a past of extensive travel, he’s loving life as is now, and couldn’t imagine moving anywhere else, such as some of his friends are doing. To which I replied, perhaps people are moving to new cities to try to find what you seem to have found – happiness, balance and fulfillment in the present. (Ok, I didn’t say that last part, but in reflection, perhaps that what it is.) It’s interesting because this conversation was the first one in a while of which someone has really been truly immersed and fulfilled in what’s in the present – not what has happened, or will happen, or coulda woulda shoulda happened, but what is NOW, present in this moment. Like a tall glass of water, he was refreshing, and the cherry on the YOP goodbye SF weekend.

India Inc.

Last Wednesday, the morning started like any other morning for me in the Haight – the front room of Lauren and Sean’s place, aka my temporary bedroom, was slightly filled with the California morning light and the soft soundtrack of the occasional pedestrian or motor vehicle passing by played in the white air - except a few things were different. There were anxious butterflies in my stomach and bit of artificial haze in my mind. The first stemmed from the ensuing AM activities that I would embark on before the clock struck 9am, and the second being the pleasant reminder of the night before, the US launch party of the FAIR Vodka - the world's first fair trade certified spirits company. I had been invited by Danny, the sharp witted, dead pan humoured Brand Ambassador of the Parisian brand I had met through a string of the usual 2 degrees of SF separation, and met the lovely French creator of the vodka, Alex, and his lovely photographer girlfriend whose pics are here...

And yes, I was there hocking Purity juice too...

But even the morning after giggles of sweet cocktails from the night before could not stop the rebel excitement that found its may to my core - It was Day 1 of the two week "What is Janum?" campaign. As the warm sun was rising in the East, my business partner Jules, whose living in the Mission, and myself, living in The Haight, hit the streets of our 'hoods marking the sidewalks with the hopefully-curiosity-inducing slogan "What is Janum.com?" with white sidewalk chalk. The intended next action would be:

a) spark conversation between friends, bus stop waitees, businesses and neighbours

b) drive people online to find out more and wind up @ our FB page for a 2 week puzzle chase of random video clues to keep them intrigued until the beg reveal on September 15...

Being the techie bubble that is San Francisco and the Bay area, the natural inclination to Google or Wiki even before the question is asked, we hoped people would pop online, and search "Janum" to find us at Janum.com or facebook.com/janumofficial.

So that morning when I woke up before my alarm, excitement of this new (ad)venture could not keep me under the covers. I threw on my imitation yellow Ray-Ban Wayfay sunglasses to brace my red eyes from the morning glare, (and avoid eye contact as I began this graffiti with training wheels adventure) and headed out with a box of chalk and a kick in my step. Here's what happened...

I got as far as Buena Vista Park, (about 10 blocks from where I started) and having marked at least 25-30 spots on just one side, I turned around to do the other side. At the same time, I had started to notice an increase in cop cars, even for the Haight. I paused and went into a Tibetan/Indian/Asian trinket shop which beckoned me in - a very light preview of the weeks to come perhaps...

For just a few moments, I lost myself in the colours, textures, scents and mystery of the space. The small shop attendance was sharing a breakfast of fresh fruit, iced water with cucumber and nuts with 2 others who sat happily by the entrace of the shop, enrobbed in soft, breezy fabrics and calming smiles. Those smiles lifted my heart a little as i left to continue the Janum-ify the neighbourhood; although as the frequency of police presence grew, I skipped a block or two as I kept my eye out around me. Then I saw the mother load - about 5-6 policemen, and a cop car, all hovering around one block on the other side of the road where I had been not more than 20 minutes prior. It was a block that was dense with "What is Janum.com?" markings and they were all trolling around the area, looking down at the pavement then looking around - most likely for the hoodlum who was doing such an act of start-up madness...Excellent.

I arrived back home feeling energized and even more excited that something had gotten noticed. I picked up my camera to document the morning, headed back to Coffee to the People on Haight Street with my laptop in toe, and a couple bucks for a ice coffee with soy - yes it was even that hot that an iced coffee was in order...

This scene is much more familiar, a reality of my time in SF: Wednesdays @ coffee shops with myself, a caffeinated beverage of sorts and the company of a fellow young, eager and ambitious soul: Julian. Julian, a baby of the 1980's, was born in Holland, raised in England, is of Indian heritage, went to school in the Us and currently resides also, where else, but The Mission, SF. We met in June at Sustainable Brands - the catalyst conference I attended in Monterey about environmental sustainability which was really the tipping point for my residence in San Francisco. Julian had started Janum last year and was knee deep in start-up territory - but lacking a full marketing resource and extra set of hands to help bring Janum to life and give it a running start in the market. After an extended convo in the conference staff party on the last night of the conference, we exchanged cards and said would be in touch.

And we were, and have been since mid June, meeting every Wednesday for work sessions, marketing planning, brainstorming session, product planning and general life catch-up. In early July, Julian told me about his trip in September to India to visit the production plants, organic growers and finalize all the aspects of the supply chain including the product, packaging, shipping and logistics to Kerala, the South Western state in India. My interest was piqued..very piqued.

Since then, we've worked together to put together an intensely detailed marketing plan including the What is Janum? campaign and a strong social media plan laid out. What's also been laid out is....my trip to INDIA! About mid-July we both lightly joked about me coming with Jules to India to help with the filming, photography and marketing opportunities that would surface while visiting all these vital aspect of the business. That has now morphed itself into a 1/2 "work" 1/2 play 28 trip to the South Western part of India, where I will fly in and out of Mumbai...

Staying in the tiny, yet feircly popular state of Goa....

And spend time in the coconut farms of Kerala...

I leave California for the first time in almost 4 months to head back to Toronto for a week, have my Indian visa processed and pack a backpack with very little `stuff`(leaving lots of room for treasures to bring home). Then, on Tuesday, September 21, leave for London, then Mumbai on the 22nd. I will return to London, then Toronto, then SFO over 2 days starting on Tuesday, October 19. This will leave 28 glorious days in the land that am sure will surprise, delight, push and challenge my reality forever.

As I`m finishing up this blog entry, a song comes on Pandora radio, and who is it, but Alanis Morisette`s brother: Wade Imre or as his name comes up in the Google search: `Yoga Rock Star`. And even in light of the lack-lustre graphics of this video, the song seemed such a perfect fit for finishing this post...

So... What is Janum? For Salmon Rushdie, it means`my life`. In Hindi, Jaanum means darling. For the Year of Passion, Janum means opportunity, adventure, and further manifestation of a new way of life...

Love and Haight in India

“If there is no struggle, there is no progress”
At almost 10 am, the streets of Haight Ashbury are slowly waking up. The sky is sapphire blue, bluer than any blue that I’ve seen before in this infamously foggy and overcast part of the city. The house was quiet when I left it this morning in search of a morning nook of inspiration that would do justice for this week’s happenings. After a short jaunt, I’ve found this mornings destination: Coffee to the People.

What feels like a neighbourhood coffee intuition, the classic guitar riffs and slow harmonica chords that accompany the idealist lyrics of “blue skies” and “burning love” on the tunes overhead could only be one person: Dylan.

A distinct hippy feel, this coffee shop not only touts being “the best coffee in the Haight” but also mirrors the vibe, class struggle and passionate, almost angry consciousness that the souls that have, do and will continue to inhabit this neighbourhood.

Today’s quote came quite clearly in the form of a bumper sticker preserved under many a layer of clear shellac on the peach coloured table to my right, although now temporarily inhabited by a man eating granola with soy milk, a glass of fresh organic OJ and on his Mac book browsing….Real estate? Yeah – I didn’t see that one coming either. Each table in the café, and there are almost 25 of them, are small collections of black and white images, articles and posters from times gone by reflecting the golden age and birth time of this neighbourhood: The 60’s & 70`s.

“If there is no struggle, there is no progress” came from the pen and lips of one of the most well-known social reformist in the US to document his time and escape from slavery: Frederick Douglass, as well as defend the suppressed rights for visual minorities and women during the 1800`s. Even 200 years later, his words are still chillingly relevant: from class consciousness to self discovery. Themes of justice, freedom, art, expression are still pumping through the veins of this ‘hood, but for me, the most striking aspect of my temporarily residence here has been in the culture and consciousness of the street people and artists (not necessarily mutually exclusive) of all kinds that paint, draw, strum, drum and beg for food or money with pride, respectively. Even the girl who is dressed in clean jeans and cotton shirt sitting against on the ground resting against a cardboard box, several sleeping bags, a guitar and backpacks outside the coffee shop is reading a novel by – Pablo Neruda, one of the Chile`s greatest gift to the world.

Passion is present in the Haight. Passion to live with freedom and as you choose in a loud and proud way. Being vocal about what you want, where you’re going, what you believe and how you want to go about doing so, is here. It’s raw and unapologetic and a great crystal to insert into the reflections, musings and contemplation of the Year of Passion.

Am staying with friends Lauren and Sean, a early 20-something couple who were brought together while studying abroad in Shanghai a couple years ago, and have since weathered the distance of her being in Buenos Aires and separate travels around the world. They have been subletting a room in a 2 bedroom, mainfloor apartment in an Edwardian Victorian home complete with a gorgeous marble signature San Francisco stoop perfect for morning, afternoon and nightly lounging and landlords that study drama therapy and theatre. The living room, my home for the past week and next 6 days, is like the suite of a museum of the Moulin Rouge. With a distinctly burlesque feel, the eclectic collection of antiques spanned the gamut including an antique baby grand piano, white painted fireplace, old black and white photos of seemingly unrelated people, a vintage seamstresses mannequin made from canvas, `wearing` a black top hat and lace vintage dress, framed posters of Italian films from the 60s, and Asian masks and sun umbrellas on the oversized mantel. All this, AND a large and overstuffed couch which has made a wonderful resting spot for my mind, body and soul as this transition continues as I remain `between`leases before leaving for India :)

Last weekend was a beautiful goodbye to my Mission oasis, Saturday was spent @ the Bike Kitchen learning how to repair the gear de-railer cord and housing and true the back wheel, wandering the Mission Street Food festival, dancing salsa under the afternoon sun to a lively 6 piece latin band on one of the off-shoot streets in The festival, and walking Valencia Street with a mango ice lolli chatting with Brian, the Puerto Rican acupuncture and herbalist. That evening, soon to be former room mates Caleb, the Michigan native astrologer and Karla, the youth art program Puerto Rican with an infectious laugh, biked to the newly opened Ethiopian restaurant Moya on Folsom. Remy, a 22 year old American born Ethiopian works with me at Purity Organic and comes into the office once a week to file documents, and her mother have opened this authentic restaurant in SOMA (South of Market Area) and she was working on Saturday night.

Tofu tibs, 100% teft anjara and other Ethiopian delicacies awaited us before we left to go see the live flamenco, ska and acoustic inspired Makru band perform at a 1 room art space in the Mission.

A Mexican 20-something with talent like Juileta Venegas, a Spanish box drummer, a short, dark haired bass guitarist who reminds me of a former Chilean lust Aaron, and others, compose this amazingly refreshing group of performers.

Sunday, although less tranquil due to the moving of my gorwing collection of “stuff” to lauren and Seans, culminated in an impromptu women’s circle meeting of the females in the Gooddess Vortex on the stoops of our purple Victorian. The Sunday afternoon sun was hot. The steps were asking to be inhabited, and we answered with Sangria, Gin and cucumber cocktails in Mason jars, and girl chats about boys, sex and…knitting.

Olivia, the early 20-something with the knitting needles in hands and 100 watt smile studies full time, and works almost full time at Scarlet Sage, the neighbourhood herbal shop on Valencia. Having attended the desert festival Burning Man as a child, a rare and unique experience for both child and parent, her mother is deeply wound into the world of recycling and waste management within the city and state.

The other Olivia, is a 1983 baby hailing from the culturally rich Aussie capital of Melbourne, Australia, has been a warm and welcome addition to the Goddess Vortex since her arrival with her equally lovely partner Heath almost 3 weeks ago. Both she and Heath are digital marketing folks who have hit the ground running since arriving to establish themselves in San Francisco for the next year. With her open mind, free flowing spirit and heavy hiking boots, Liv was sipping her gin & tonic spike with a slice of organic cucumber, while we dissected the “witty dialog” of the gin she had selected for her afternoon of Gin in the Sun.

So with a bit of a buzz, I headed back to my new home in the Haight, where I would continue with the seemingly endless internet dig into VLR of which I have been putting off in light of the sunny weather and blue skies. VLR being the Visas, Logistics and Reality of getting a US work visa, an Indian tourist visa and renewing Canadian passport - all at the same time. I am elated to say that at this point, despite the delays, all 3 are in the works to successfully be completed WOOHOO! Ok, so my original intent of this post was to share about India. More specifically -why. Why now? With who? Where? When? But alas, the sun is high noon now, the skies are still clear and this Sunday is calling my name. So India details will have to wait...until Tuesday :)

One sleep til the Haight...

“The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.”

Dear Mister Mark Twain poetically said these words many years ago, and after spending July and almost all of August in this notoriously chilly and seasonally undecided city, I can see why this phrase has met the lips of so many San Franciscans...repeatedly...this summer, as rumour around the water cooler (yes we have one), the taco trucks, and streets has it that it has been the coldest summer on record in over 80 years. Yum!

Cool overcast mornings of no more than 13 degrees, sprinkled with the expected mist of not-quite rain, not-quite fog, and an evening chill that makes ice cream seem out of the question (only SEEM). It operates almost like a light switch - somewhere around 6 or 7pm, any warmth seems to disappear and vanish all within a breath; often mirroring the quintessential sign that autumn has arrived. Ah autumn: the season of change, of new beginnings, of shedding previous layers and preparing for the next phase of growth. Unconsciously, the Year of Passion is right on track.

With just one more sleep til until my 10 week sublet is complete at the Goddess Vortex in the Mission, this Sunday, tomorrow, I move out and begin 3 weeks of in transient yet familiar couch surfing...aka the return of bag lady status.

Although this time it will be spent predominately with some newly made friends that are extending some kindness to a not-so-stranger. The 75 days that I have spent at this heart-warming and welcoming space, has opened my eyes to so many new ideas, thoughts, theories, ways of life, people, foods, experiences, dances, art, relationships and more. I am grateful for this time spent here, although more signs than the seasons are saying that the Year of Passion marches on in exploration of new pastures of inspiration.

In honour of the mini-journey and personal growth that has occurred while here, starting last Monday, I’ve decided to challenge myself to “go” 100% raw vegan for 1 week. Sometimes seen as a cleanse, the “Raw movement” is the consumption of only uncooked (or to the max temp of 106 degrees) unroasted foods, and definitely an emphasis on local, organic too. Fresh fruits, veg, greens, raw seeds, nuts, dates, fresh herbs & vinegars are fair game. Enter: Cashew “cheese”, sunflower pesto & the cornucopia of farmers markets colours....

In preparation, last Saturday’s trip to the Alemany Farmers market on the other side of Bernal Heights had my backpack brimming with 2 kinds of char, basil, 4 variety of figs, apples, dates, long beans, mustard greens, cabbage, and baby yellow heirloom tomatoes.
Room-mates, former and current, Adri and Caleb have both been advocates for eating a raw vegan diet, as the nutritional content of foods is higher in foods that have not been cooked and since raw “living” food contain live enzymes, your body doesn’t have to work as hard to digest, giving you much more energy to do other things – such as go for a bike ride, play Frisbee at the park, or even plan a trip to India.

So in the spirit of going big or going home, I’ve dived right into this nutritional experiment starting off by sprouting lentils and making sunflower pesto garlic paste. Both involve soaking sed seeds for at least 12 hours in order to help bring the seed or nut “to life” – the water being a signal that it should “come alive” in preparation to germinate, or sprout – but in my case – to be eaten. Poor things never had a chance against my hungry eyes…

A sense of rawness is not only what I’m putting in my mouth and body this week, but is also a sentiment that am feeling as a result of this week`s inevitable and foreseeable conclusion of what I might even call a passion-filled romance. Within days of arriving at this blessed spot in the Mission, I had the joy of meeting one of the most interesting, and complexly layered companions I’ve had the opportunity to explore on a level that has been dormant in my heart for some time.

A fast and strong connection, followed by a loving and passionate lust made this recent decision to separate a difficult reality to admit. Looking back upon this collection of unique moments of unspoken understandings and connections between the sheets and on the streets, my heart feels a bit raw, if not only for the mourning of the end of simply something beautiful that was. But this has come full circle at a time of other endings - the summer, the Goddess Vortex, and perhaps even the honeymoon of a living in a new city, even one that still captivates my heart at every new turn.

This finale in the heart department that I`m experiencing is slightly comforted by the fact that perhaps this is clearance time for not just I. Accompanied not only by the quintessential introspective, melodramatic songs of ColdPlay and Dave Matthews Band that continue to play on my Pandora station, I`ve learned of two other ladies, both within close degrees of separation, who are have also closed similar chapters this week with their San Franciscan lovers, lusters, companions...

But as the curtains fall on Act 1, an intermission ensues, followed by Act 2, Act 3 and then a whole new play. Act 1 @ the Goddess Vortex has been everything I’ve dreamed of my intro to Cali and more.

Organic juice company job, farmers markets with the most succulent fruit and vegetables that make my eyes dance with excitement, naked yoga in the sun, raw vegan food diet, purple Victorian home in an urban oasis nestled in my favourite colourful neighbourhood that is filled with raw life, lazy afternoons in Dolores Park, experiencing a Women’s Circle in Berkeley, a beautiful new road bike and an even stronger love of urban cycling, a legendary gay pride celebration in the Castro with new friends both gay and bi, hiking with Couch Surfers and friends amongst Sequoias and Red Woods, putting Sweat Equity into an SF start-up with the Dutch-born Indian Coconut sponge Julian, impromptu sing-alongs in the kitchen, back porch and stoop, biking the Golden Gate, art crawls in The Mission, passing passion-filled outdoors murals everyday, speaking, seeing, hearing Spanish everyday, drinking too much wine, passionate nights under the peace flags on my room, and countless “Is this really happening?” moments.

This intermission period begins on Sunday, when lovely Lauren, a 20-something lady friend who is newly transplanted from Boston to SF will be hosting me in her delightful Victorian house right off of Haight for some days.

With the intransient nature of these next 2 weeks, passion ponderings and musing are bound to surface, as will with the planning of the Year of Passions next stop beginning of Act 2: India.