A good day in the Tenderloin

Sunday was a very good day in the Tenderloin, sunny and warm but also social and unusually kind.  10-12 groups of musicians and DJs blasted music while people danced (people dance everywhere, all the time in the Bay Area and the Central Coast); children’s events occupied two blocks. The best part for me was two streets occupied by volunteers providing free dental care, basic medical care, eye exams, massages and then the streets filled with beauty tents for free haircuts, manicures, and pedicures.  First come first served; plenty of waiting and plenty of need.

The event was Sunday Streets SF where a few dozen streets in one neighborhood per month are car-free for several hours, open for wandering, biking, window shopping, and socializing.  The San Francisco Streets events were inspired by the monthly Bogota Ciclovia,  the coolest, largest informal public gathering I’ve ever attended. SF’s version does not have the size, scope, impact or energy of Bogota’s, but then comparing a North American version of anything to its South American counterpart just isn’t fair, right?

My volunteer work was stopping auto traffic for three hours, a skill honed in Chicago Critical Mass. Afterwards I spent the afternoon cycling, chatting, taking pics, and wondering why such wonderful events occur so infrequently.

The beauty and medical services were provided by several religious organizations, and though I cannot stand their religious messages, I admire the volunteers for their work. Those giving and getting pedicures were talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s humanity. Without overgeneralizing, many of the people lined up for haircuts and pedicures likely lived in the ungentrified, overcrowded Tenderloin; the primarily white 20-something volunteers did not.

I talked to Jeannette after her manicure and looked for the others whose pics I snapped, looking to get their names, hear some stories, tell some jokes. I turned around, however, and every one of them had disappeared into the crowd, become invisible.  Or maybe like so many others I just couldn’t see even when I looked.
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