There's just so much commotion

On the Sunday of Memorial day weekend, San Francisco's Mission district celebrates its own version of Carnaval. Much like its sister affairs in Rio or New Orleans, it's a pretty riotous celebration of bodies and music and dance and life. And of the celebrants' heritage.

Like the hundreds of people dancing down 24th street to Mission street, (though in far less exciting getups,) the girls and I returned to San Francisco this weekend to celebrate our roots.

It was the first time in nearly a year that Stella and Zoey had set foot on home turf. I wondered how they'd do.

Lovin' up on the BART

They hit their stride instantly, though Stella did ask as she was looking out the airplane window at Oakland, "where are all of their cows?"


Not so many cows in Oakland. But, there were friends. As I've mentioned before, I've yet to get on a flight in Bozeman without running into someone I know; this trip was almost an exception, until we caught the bus from the airport to BART. We had a $5 and need $3 to pay our fare, and the guy behind us offered us some change. Turned out he was the dad of a friend of ours. What a fun way to start our adventure.

 +++

(Total visual aside: check out this hipster BART-riding Wrangler wearer. I've mentioned before that prior to our Montana move, this ironic breed was the only type I knew.)

 

 +++

I love San Francisco for 673 reasons, but one of the biggest is its whole-hearted, flagrant embrace and celebration of difference — of the misfits, the outcasts, the brave and the weird ones. Think of the people who risked it all to come to a foreign land like California, (whether decades or months ago;) California compels a certain breed of spirit.

Tolerating all of the difficulties presented by life in San Francisco, (being constantly slightly - or very - cold, dealing with insane housing costs, enduring summers buried in fog,) requires deep love for the city. My love affair was fed by the festivals, and by the collective adoration of its denizens for the place, as well as by the nature and the food.

"There's just so much commotion in San Francisco," announced Stella about halfway through our 72-hour trip. So delightfully true, especially for those of us who are now accustomed to a more pastoral pace.

The girls and I will return in November for Dia de los Muertos, and hope to return every year to soak up our two most favorite events in the city. Thanks to our cub photojournalist Stella, we have many photos of Carnaval to carry us though, and to share with you.

The showgirls were my favorite. Go girls!

Taking it all in from the sidelines.

Dear friends.