I swung my right leg up, and grabbed on with my left arm. I shifted my left leg off the ledge just as I realized there was no hold for my right arm. I made the mistake of looking down, lost my balance, and fell.
This June, I was weeks away from heading to Nigeria to work at a social enterprise when I heard back from UPSIDE Foods, the world’s first cultivated meat company.1 They were the first to get U.S. regulatory approval and launch a product, had raised over half a billion dollars, and were offering me a six-month externship opportunity to support their commercial strategy. As a lifelong vegetarian who cares about sustainability in our food systems, I knew I couldn’t say no. So in July, instead of flying east to Lagos, I flew west to the Bay Area.
Having visited San Francisco before and knowing many who lived there, I came in with strong stereotypes of the Bay Area. Tech bros, self-driving cars, weekend skiing in Tahoe (most of these held true). I thought I knew the Bay Area wasn’t for me, and instinctively looked for reasons to prove this. For example, there is a bikeshare system, but I couldn’t rely on it to get around given the hills and not-so-friendly cars.
Moreover, I didn’t think I fit in well in the laid-back and uber-progressive Bay. The East Coaster in me was used to rushing through crowds with headphones in, not “pausing to invite others’ spirits,” as my Berkeley yoga instructor recommended. I thought I knew how to recycle, but wasn’t sure how to use the five different trash buckets in my AirBnb. I Slacked someone at 7pm and they said I should stop working.
I was lucky to already have friends around San Francisco who introduced me to their groups. However, I barely knew anyone in the East Bay, where UPSIDE was based and I was living by myself. This was the first time I’d ever joined an organization without a cohort, and I was in a team without teammates and with a virtual manager. From an outside perspective, it sounded like a lonely setup. But maybe because of this, I kept myself so busy that I never felt it.
Knowing there was a clock ticking, I was in extended tourist mode, trying to pack in everything I could. Every time I had a free afternoon, I went to my spreadsheet to find the next activity to check off. Within a few months, I hiked the four major peaks in the Bay. I visited a different museum every few weeks, missing DC’s Smithsonians every time I paid an entrance fee. I went thrifting in Haight-Ashbury, did a self-made pizza tour in North Beach with my work buddy Alan, and had bubble tea in Chinatown (more on this later).
In the ways I could control, I forced myself to lean into the West Coast. I grew out my facial hair and started wearing flannel to the office. I started listening more to N.W.A, Dr. Dre, and other West Coast classic rap (my Spotify Wrapped could tell I was trying a bit too hard).
As part of this immersion (and to switch up my workout routine), I joined a rock climbing gym, specifically doing free bouldering. Bouldering routes are marked by technical difficulty, ranging from V0 to V17+. Feeling fairly physically fit, I thought I could progress pretty quickly. I completed a V0 and V1 on my first day, and even tried a V2.
A month later, I was still stuck on V2s. Every time I came in, I would try a bunch of routes, moving from one to another when I couldn’t figure them out. Bouldering uses muscles that I usually didn’t – wrist flexors, forearms, etc. – so the movements felt unnatural. I would keep making the same mistakes, get stuck in different angles, and then fall back to the ground. But in my tourist/checklist mindset, I kept jumping to different routes, more focused on trying everything than doing a few things right.
While I kept jumping around, I noticed that others would sit in front of a route for a while, visualizing their path. They would take breaks between attempts to recover and evaluate what they did wrong. They would focus on one route and try to master it.
Over time, I changed my approach too. I slowed down and focused on one or two routes at a time. I tried to mentally overcome hurdles before doing so physically. In a week, I got my first V2 route down. A month later, I finished a V3 as well.
Outside of the gym, I stopped rushing to different things and focused on consistency, relying once again on soccer to find community. I joined a Tuesday night team, playing 10 p.m. games and re-remembering all my weaknesses. I started volunteering with the Bay Area chapter of the non-profit America SCORES, refereeing kids’ soccer games as I used to in DC. As the tourist energy exhausted, I let myself relax. When I had a free Saturday, I sat down and played Call of Duty for the first time in years.
I wanted my time in the Bay Area to be a distinct chapter. I would live a uniquely West Coast life for five months, and then move on. The reality, as always, was never as clean. I explored a lot in the Bay, but had the support of old friends and hobbies to keep me grounded. I wanted to feel like an outsider, but maybe the Bay Area rubbed off on me too.
This was my last weekend in the Bay, and I’ve just landed back in DC for another opportunity I couldn’t turn down. I’ve shaved clean and traded in my flannels for suits (probably where I’m most comfortable). But I brought my rock climbing shoes back with me. Maybe you’ll see me sitting in front of a V4.
Cultivated meat, also known as lab-grown or cultured meat, is made from real animal cells grown in vitro. While plant-based meat companies like Beyond and Impossible made some progress, they weren’t able to meaningfully convince meat-eaters to stop eating meat. Cultivated meat has the promise of offering a real meat-eating experience without the need to kill animals. Moving from conventional to cultivated meat can be better for animals, humans, and the planet.
Great write-up Sidd and congrats on the new adventure back in DC!