Who?
Chloe and Bodhi
Where?
San Francisco, California
What?
"Besides the fact that he is super sweet and you two look beautiful together I really want to let you know that you are the prettiest mom! "
How did she react?
"Thank you! That's very nice of you!"
How did I feel?
Another one of those hardly strictly encounters: 
Chloe looked wonderful. The way she was carrying her child and herself was plain beauty. Her body looked strong and fragile at the same time, plus her walk was graceful while her clothes spread a playful vibe. We talked very briefly, she seemed a bit surprised but totally took what I said before she walked on with Bodhi. 
I'm glad I got to experience that piece of beauty and tell her about it!
Thanks, Chloe. and Bodhi.

Who?
Hannah
Where?
San Francisco, California
What?
"You talking to me randomly was brave and made my day! Thanks for having the guts to do so and for walking with me.. You are beautiful!"
How did she react?
"Oh, thank you!". We hugged, probably for the 5th time.
How did I feel?
I love the Bay Area. 
This is the German me speaking, not the American. What that means? It means I don't use the word "love" as often as "have" or "am". I use it very selectively. Now you know, so let me repeat:
I love the Bay Area. Placewise it's the love of my life, I am ready to commit. Yes, I know I am young. And I already live in a kick ass place. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate Berlin in so many ways. I know how to decode the bus driver's barking at me there and understand he's expressing himself and his love in an upside down way. Languages differ. I love the summer in Berlin, the artists, the craziness- and, yeah, all the dirt on the street, too. Because it's honest, just like the whole city. Berlin slaps it's opinion about you in your face, whether you want it or not. Trust me, there is a lot of good in that, sometimes we all need a mirror. Or at least have a good, long laugh.
So Berlin is my home of origin. I will always treasure it, and I will never stop returning to that hate-love-babe of mine. 
Meanwhile the Bay is my home of choice. 
I arrived a week ago after two months of total stress and drama in all parts of life. It's been a hard summer and it will take a while to fully restore, that's for sure. 
Adjusting to the time difference, the climate and, most importantly, the language was more difficult than I expected, too: Coming from the slap-your-opinion place I needed a minute to log into the cosmos of "Hi, I just spotted you from across the street! I love the way you're rooting into your 4th chakra! What's your star sign?" or "I can feel you are reaching out to me energetically." or just "Aaaaaawwwwwwhhhhhh...." while giving a long, long (long) hug.
Buttoned up to the top of my coat I waited until I was ready to open the first few inches. How that happened?
Slowing down always helps, and some sleep, and a fair share of emotional breakdown. And: The Bay. 
There is no place on earth (at least not that I know of, please tell me if I am wrong) that you can leave the house at after having given into the feeling of overwhelming loneliness and despair and be completely vulnerable- then let things go from there. And know: They will go in the best way possible, there will be love reaching out to you. 
That's what happened yesterday. First I strolled through the Golden Gate Park, looking for my friends at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival which filled these magical grounds with countless sparkling smiles and dance moves. I couldn't find them so I continued on my own. That's when Hannah walked up to me, lay her hand on my shoulder and said: 
"You have to tell me what's in that case on your back!" 
"It's a violin." 
"Aww... I just had to know. You know, all my friends I am here with are couples so I decided to walk by myself for a bit. When you just walked past me I saw your sweet smile and I thought "Who's that girl and what instrument is she carrying?" You were walking alone just like me and  I just had to talk to you." 
"That's amazing! Thanks for doing so! Care to join me?" 
"Sure!"
Hannah was full of sunshine. And I loved that she had the courage to walk up to me. The situation reminded me of my walking up to compliment candidates, now I know what it feels like to be talked to in that way, and I loved it. It was just what I needed, someone as wonderful as Hannah, opening their arms and saying: "Hey there, yes, you! I like you. Welcome out here." 
I told her about the project and complimented her on her courage to turn around and approach me. 
We took a picture together and when I look at it now I find I am radiating with happiness in a way I haven't been for 7 months- which is how long I have been gone from the Bay. Hannah sparked my heart.
I may be repeating myself- but let me tell you this: 
I love the Bay. 

Later I busked on Haight street for two hours. It was incredible. There were two people listening to me for a while, their eyes softening to my violin. The way they devoted helped me approach Bach's magic step by step, I did so by enjoying their love. They saw something in me and my playing I couldn't even feel myself in the beginning. But every note they stuck around for and spread their gratitude and touch allowed me to sink deeper into a feeling of being loved and appreciated and most of all enjoying my own playing in a way I hadn't been able to before. I learned from the way they bowed down it. These men, their eyes and ears, words and hugs created a channel for me to pass through and find my way back to music. And love. Tears creep up my throat as I am writing this. 
I had countless crazy, beautiful encounters last night. 
If one person tells you they like you it's easy to block that. If five do, it gets harder. If twenty people walk up to you, look you in the eye and tell you from the bottom of their hearts: "You are beautiful.", that buttoned coat opens up no matter what. It did for me. Suddenly I stood out in California in my summer dress, ready to be hugged and loved and most of all: Ready to love, everyone I saw, every piece of light they rayed out. And to hug every smile and every bit of nourishment for the heart these wonderful people sent in my direction.

Thank you, Bay Area, for bringing me back to life. 
Let's hear it one more time: I love you. 

Who?
Hannah and Abraham
Where?
San Francisco, California
What?
"You are the prettiest couple I have seen all day."
How did they react?
Laughed, said thank you, then: "Now guess what- we have been married for 57 years!"
How did I feel?
Those two were amazingly cute. And they had quite a story to tell: He is originally from Hungary, she's from England. Together they lived in Israel for 20 years before they came out here over 30 years ago. Tonight they celebrated Yom Kippur in their favorite temple which they drove all the way from the East Bay to the city for. I could tell it was a special night for them the minute I saw them because they were all dressed up.
Our conversation was beautiful, I enjoyed looking them both in the eye for his were very playful and young while hers were wise and awake. When they walked off slowly I heard them laughing together for what felt like minutes.
They left a deep impression on me and I kept thinking about the encounter for a while. I realized: If one day I can turn my head and look at someone in the way the two of them looked at each other- loving, open and knowing- I will be two things: Unspeakably proud and grateful. Proud of all the relationship work we have been making it through and grateful for the wonderful person next to me. Watching them wander off I felt a craving. I longed for what they have... And whispered, "Wow. I really want that, too." Let's see where life takes me.
In the meantime, Hannah and Abraham, happy Yom Kippur to you and countless joyful years of marriage!

Who?
Omar
Where?
San Francisco, California
What?
"You are the best liquor store guy on the planet!"
How did he react?
Of course he reacted in the perfect way. Read below.
How did I feel?
So, so good! I'd been preparing this compliment for weeks. Here's why: 
Two months ago I moved to Cologne, Germany. A few weeks later the corner store guy started recognizing me. I was stoked. I had become a regular! And realized: Once that man knows you you have officially arrived. It's him who turns a new neighborhood into home. The one in Cologne is a particularly nice guy, too, which is why I decided to compliment him one night. On the way there I looked for the right words. I decided to go with "You are the best liquor store guy on the planet!" As I stood in front of him and opened my mouth I realized it was going to be a lie. There was no way this man was the best liquor store guy. That position had forever been taken by Omar. 
Omar owns a store at Fillmore and Oak in San Francisco, California. He's more than just a liquor guy. He's the corner's soul. You can see him standing behind the counter every day from 5 pm till 12, selling everything anyone could be in last minute need of. Booze, condoms, pickles. And it's it, San Francisco's local specialty. While he does that he hums along with the jazz music that's playing. Not just any jazz, Omar listens to the one and onlys. I have heard Miles, Bird and Dizzie go crazy through the speakers at his store. "No crappy tunes in here!", he told me once with a wink, "Because I have a great taste!"  
If a dog enters they run straight to him to get their fair amount of treats and tender loving care. What those get in touch people get in words from him. When I was in boy trouble last time I stayed in the city Omar came outside with me. He sat down in front of his shop and lent me his ear, then gave me a his fair appraisal of my situation. There were some wise words spoken that day. Knowing Omar that didn't come as a surprise as he's down for quoting Oscar Wilde and Carl Sagan anytime: His Facebook cover photo says "I don't know where I'm going but I am on my way." 
The heart in his chest is bigger than all of Lower Haight. Although he would never admit it there are tears in his eyes when he speaks of his beloved ones living back in Tunisia. He was born there but he's been in the US for many years and has had his fair share of Bay Area vibes. With the best accent he says "Fuck it!" at least 3 times a minute. He is convinced: "Gay? Straight? Whatever, as long as they're good people..."  but if you enter his shop barefoot he tells you: "Cut the hippie crap, this is not the town to walk barefoot in." Omar has figured out the right balance between east and west, swear words and deep insights, down to earth and peace and love. He is himself. Winking, smiling and never at a loss for words he inspired one of the characters for a sitcom exposé I had to write for school last semester. The show was set in Berlin which is why Omar turned into a Turkish guy but his role stayed the same: He was the good guy on the block. The one everyone of the core cast would turn to in material or emotional need- or if they just wanted to share a little love and hear a good joke, in short: Feel at home. That's the thing. While some Cologne liquor store guy makes me feel at home by merely recognizing me Omar is the one who leaves the counter to give me a hug. I return to San Francisco after months and he says, "Welcome back. Girl, you belong here." How amazing can returning be!?

Today I told him the story of how I realized he was the best liquor man on the planet. The whole I-can't-tell-this-guy-he's-the-best-because-Omar-already-is. He listened, smiled, high fived me. Then said, "Fuck it, Rosa, there can be several best! The guy can over there can be the best and so can I! Let's not be greedy, right? And now open your bottle and tell me what you've been up to. Tell me, tell me everything."
Thank you, Omar. I can't wait to come home to this, to the Lower Haight, to you for good.