When we got there Trevor walked me around and introduced me to the crew - all volunteers, many of whom were once addicts and homeless themselves. They were all so kind and welcoming, I immediately felt comfortable. I was put on dishwashing duty, filling in for someone who hadn't shown up that day, and while it kept me from more hands on work with the people who came in to be served, I think it was actually the best place for me to start. It allowed me to play more of an observer role, and as it was my first time in a soup kitchen, I think I needed that. It was kind of a slow day, according to the people who typically worked there, so in between rinsing dishes and putting them away, I was able to observe the people who came in for breakfast. I learned that some were regulars, some were new, and there were others who were not homeless, but due to the downturn in the economy, made enough money to pay their rent and had not a penny left over to feed themselves. It was saddening to see all these people, but it was humbling to be in a roomful of volunteers who dedicated so much time to trying to make these people's lives a little bit more bearable.
I washed dishes with a man named Naji (my spelling may be off). He was quick and he was direct and I caught on quickly to what I was supposed to do as a part of my job in the dish washing line. When things slowed down a bit we talked, he asked me about school and swimming - he having just learned to swim 3 years ago and now working at a school instructing open water swimmers. He would swiftly but politely correct me or answer me if I was unsure about where something went or if I did something incorrectly. We chatted away through meal time and clean-up time. We went back to the office and sat and talked some more while I waited for Trevor to be done with his clean up duties. Naji told me that he was a recovering alcoholic and addict, over 20 years clean, and that he found Martin's and worked his way up to a kitchen director position in they system. In return for his volunteering he gets free room and board with a handful of other individuals and gets to eat whatever meals he may choose to eat while at the soup kitchen. He let me ask as many questions as I wanted about the organization, telling me all about what they provide for the homeless and what sort of things they experience on a daily basis.
When I left he told me that I was welcome back any time I was in the city since I was now part of the Martin's family. I think it was truly the most unique experience I had in the city, unlike anything you would find on a list of typical tourist spots. It simply amazes me how much of themselves these people, who have relatively little of their own, are giving to help improve the lives of the homeless. They were non-judgemental, open, polite, and caring. Even for the short two hours I was there, I really did feel like I was part of a family. I wouldn't hesitate to go back there again, it was such a wonderful opportunity.
Trevor had to go to class from 10-2 that day, so his mom and I set off on the metro on our own. We headed all the way back down to Embarcadero to go spend some more leisurely time at the shops inside the Ferry Building. We took our time wandering through stores, tasting chocolates, and perusing the little book store. We stopped at the Cowgirl Creamery for lunch - I ordered the lunch meal, which was a grilled cheese made with the "cheese of the day" (it was some variety of Swiss, the exact name has slipped my mind) and a bowl of cottage cheese soup. It sounds kind of gross, but only if you think of it in terms of like Knudson Cottage Cheese, which this definitely was not. It was so good! We sat outside and ate, watching people walk by and ferries docking and then taste-testing some of the chocolates we'd bought earlier.
We jumped back on the Metro to head inland back by the Civic Center so we could visit the San Francisco Library. Let me just say, "Holy cow." It was SIX stories tall! Five stories of wall to wall books with cute study areas and computer sections, and the sixth floor was a mini San Francisco history museum. I could go through and tell you what kind of books were on each floor, but there's really no point, you're pretty capable of looking that up yourself. It was just mesmerizing. They had a book for everything! Another two hours of time spent just browsing through books and more books.
This was my last night in San Francisco so I got to pick where we were going for dinner. Now, I could have picked something safe and typical, but I figured, why ruin my adventurous streak? I told Trevor I wanted to go to this place we had walked by the other day in Japan Town called Doobu - a Korean food restaurant that Trevor said was known for its tofu. Seeing as I'd never had tofu before, but had always wanted to try it, I thought this was the perfect opportunity. The three of us spent some more time walking around Japan town to work up our appetites before going to dinner. We saw the NBC4 news crew there interviewing shop owners about the current earthquake crisis in Japan.
Doobu was SO good! I got this tofu soup - it was like a broth with beef dumplings, rice cakes (pretty much round noodles) and soft tofu chunks, and then they served a bunch of little side dishes with other things you could add to your soup - sprouts, fried tofu, etc. The best part was, when they brought you the soup it was still boiling, so you crack an egg in it and then the soup cooks the egg! Amazing. However, it did further burn my pizza-burnt tongue...will I ever learn? Haha.
We stopped at this place called Holy Gelato on the way home, and I'm a sucker for ice cream in any form, and trying a new place is always okay by my standards. I got a mix of white chocolate raspberry and dark chocolate...mmmm! So good; perfect end to my food adventures.
Back at Trevor's, we watched two episodes of Dirty Jobs that were filmed in San Francisco - the trash collectors in Chinatown and the people who work in the sewers. Both super disgusting, but really funny too. We spent some time up talking before knocking out for the night.
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