# Chapter 10: First Night in Berkeley My flight landed into San Francisco International Airport at 6pm. I took the Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) from the airport up north toward whatever town awaited me. I knew nothing about San Francisco and made no plans ahead of time to secure myself a bed to sleep in for the next two nights before taking a Greyhound up to Ukiah. With my forehead pressed against the train window, I gazed in awe at the western sun setting behind the distant hills. > [!magic] The Pilgrimage Begins > My pilgrimage had begun. The orange blaze burned below a silky blue sky. I sat mesmerized by a sight that was no longer familiar. --- ## Lost in Translation Having to decide where I would get off, I looked at the transit map as if it was written in a foreign tongue. Unlike New York City, where I could 'feel' and get a sense of each stop, I knew nothing about 'Montgomery Street' or 'El Cerrito del Norte.' "Why were all these names in Spanish?" I thought. I started pacing the train in anticipation. I decided I would get off at one of the last stops in San Fran—Embarcadero—and hopefully I would find a cheap motel or hostel to crash in for the night. Turns out Embarcadero is the equivalent of Wall Street, with tall gray skyscrapers, Starbucks in each lobby, and people wearing suits while talking on cell phones. I felt a million miles away from where I wanted to be. > [!frustration] Where Are the Hippies? > Where were the hippies? Where were the indie cafes and public philosophers? Where were the street artists and yogis? I was stranded in the financial capital of Northern California. Worst of all, the sun had set and it started getting cold and dark. I felt like the only person who was alive and everyone else was mere background noise in a virtual reality. --- ## Meeting Jade I decided to hop back on the train and try my luck going into Berkeley. The charm of adventure was starting to fade and I felt like a foreigner in a city where I didn't have a single friend to call on. Sitting tensely with my right leg jittering, I spotted a small Filipino person standing across from me. He wore a loose beanie over his jet black hair. He had a canvas laptop bag slung around his shoulder and Converse shoes on his feet. I guessed he was about 27 years old, a few years older than I was. I finally felt life inside one of these Californian bodies. There was obvious non-verbal communication going on between us. I felt his eyes peering toward me as if he was listening to my internal dilemma. Finally I said something: "Hey, do you know what stop I should get off if I want to go to Berkeley college?" "Sure, get off at the Downtown Berkeley stop," he answered surely. I thanked him but was too timid to tell him how lost I really was. Spotting my backpack and duffel bag, he asked, "You're not from around here, are you? Where are you from?" "From New York City," I replied. He smiled and suddenly I didn't feel like a stranger anymore. His name was Jade. I liked his friendly demeanor and west coast swag. There was a weird rapport between us even though we'd just met. --- ## An Offer "I have no place to stay tonight but I'm hoping to find something in Berkeley. Do you know anywhere or anyone who could help me out?" Jade scrunched his face as if he was pretending to think for a moment and said, "Nah, not really... but you could stay at my place. I'm just going to hang out downtown with a friend. I'll give you a call around eleven and you could come by. In the meantime, there is plenty to do in town. You could walk down Telegraph Ave—that's the famous block from the sixties counterculture movement. It's loaded with vintage record shops, bookstores, and about a billion different cafes." That was exactly what I wanted to do, I thought. With utter gratitude I thanked him, "Text me your address and I'll meet you over there around eleven." > [!heart] Universe Providing > I was so relieved my backpack slipped off my shoulders. We exchanged numbers and got off at the same stop. I was still a bit apprehensive about meeting him later. I wondered if he would bail, but at this point I considered him a blessing from the universe. I walked off the train platform and took a few deep breaths, getting in touch with my intuition before moving forward. Suddenly the electricity of Berkeley surged through my body and the crisp west coast air revitalized my sense of adventure. --- ## Telegraph Avenue I spent the next few hours roaming the Berkeley night scene. I grabbed a burrito from a Mexican dive and wandered through a few record shops. I was still looking for the ideal cafe to pass some time in while I could get some writing done. It was around 9pm and to my dismay I found that most coffee houses were closed. I thought for sure the cafe capital of America would have some late-night haunt available for a new vagabond like me. Then I caught sight of a colorful building: "Caffe Mediterraneum: Birthplace of the Caffe Latte." I read on the door that they were open until midnight. Ah, I found my resting place. --- ## Caffe Med I walked in to a large two-story cafeteria/hangout with white and black checkered floors, round school tables, and books cluttered in various corners. The atmosphere was crowded with mostly young people with green cargo jackets and many piercings. I spotted two impoverished-looking old men working on ten-year-old laptops. For some weird reason, I felt comfortable there. It seemed to be a hub for people looking to pass time, drink coffee, read and write. *My kind of people,* I thought. I considered trying the Caffe Latte since they made such a big deal about giving birth to the iconic beverage, but I usually enjoyed my coffee black with a chocolate chip cookie on the side for dipping. So that's what I ordered. I found a seat on the second level across from a small grungy woman with pink hair and filthy fingers typing away on a laptop covered in stickers. > [!insight] Among the Misfits > I felt among a group of misfits. The eclectic mix of personalities made me feel more at home, as if there wasn't a role I needed to fit into or a standard of being I must adhere by. It was a refreshing feeling that was new to me. > > Most cafes back home were all franchises like Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks, peddling their brand to the white-middle-class masses of suburbia. --- ## The Inhabitants A pair of Black men sat a few tables ahead of me. One wore a dirty baseball cap while the other had a large hole in his leather jacket. It seemed they were working on a creative piece of writing together, like lyrics for a song or something. Then there was an ancient-looking old man with angel white hair shooting off the sides of his head. The large lenses of his glasses were framed with a thin wire, making his eyes appear like marbles. He sat typing furiously on an old Royal typewriter. His cup of coffee rattled on the table as his muse beckoned. > [!magic] A Zoo for Souls > *Zoo* was one word that crossed my mind when I considered my surroundings. A zoo not for animals but for people—a diverse showcase of souls manifesting into different forms of human and gathering in a coffee cathedral to work away on their masterpieces. I took out my black, 8-inch notebook, figuring I'd join them. I started writing about the thoughts I was having that first night in Berkeley. Not having anywhere to go for the next two hours, I settled into my seat, sipping heartily on my coffee and easing into the shared current of creative flow surging throughout the cafe. --- ## Journey to Jade's A couple of hours passed in no time and it was getting close to eleven. Jade hadn't answered the last five times I tried calling him, so I figured I would set off on my way toward his house and hopefully he'd be home when I got there. The weather was getting cold fast and it seemed like it would rain any minute. I had to trust Jade—he had to come through for me. I refused to entertain any other option at that point. It would be tremendously inconvenient and a huge kick in my spiritual ass if Jade decided to ditch me. > [!warning] Fear Rising > The architecture accompanying me on my walk seemed so strange and foreign: the pink pastel walls of the dormitories across the street, tall exotic plants on front lawns, and rows of fifty or more bicycles parked on the sidewalk. > > Being so far from anywhere I knew started to scare me. What if the world isn't as kind as I wished it to be? What if my grandfather was right all along, that people are out to get me? Whenever that fear and anxiety arose, I could sense fire in the core of my stomach spreading out to my shoulders. I would take a deep breath and listen to the silent spaces between the noise. The anxiety I felt made me want to run somewhere, but there was nowhere I knew to go. I stayed committed to the plan and kept taking deep breaths. --- ## The Tree I came to a small tree about 10 feet high and newly bare for the oncoming winter. The strong wind stirred the empty branches. I stopped walking and looked up past the branches and toward the night sky. The invisible energy moving through the air stole my attention. A gust would sound and then a crackle of the branches would follow. > [!practice] Grounding > I could feel my feet on the floor and suddenly I had nothing to worry about. My mind reflected the one or two lonely stars I could make out beyond the Californian light pollution. I felt connected to a larger mystery of life and a kinship with the wind ripping through the tree. I got to Jade's porch and sat down, waiting faithfully for his arrival. --- *Next: [[Ch 11 - Staying With Jade]]