The Sounds of Berkeley

By Dain Liepa

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General Introduction:

The sounds of Berkeley are as unique and random as the place itself. The magnetic poetry random-ness of bits of conversation that one can hear on a trip across the city offers a glimpse into the lives of the people who share this diverse place. In many ways, Berkeley is a place of contradictions and extremes that spans every element of life imaginable – from social class, to race and ethnicity, to a diversity of ideas. The following is a sampling of sounds that are uniquely Berkley-ian in nature, and begin to capture poetic value these sounds contain.

10:47 p.m. The Berkeley Marina Pier

Sound: The Aerator bucket

The staccato lights of San Francisco flicker in the distance. Beyond the smell of urine and dead fish near shore, the pier at Berkeley Marina has no visible end, stretching for what seems infinity into the bay.

The ebbing and flowing of water beneath the pier lends a feeling of being on board a ship, and the hushed figures moving along the length of the structure could be any one of us.

Fishermen and couples alike find solace and privacy in the stretches of quiet that is possible here. The pier is a natural destination for tourists and locals alike.

“Want to see our fish?” asks a young fisherman, hauling up a rope with a large halibut on the end. His stance with the fish reveals a certain pride in his good fortune.

“I’ve never seen anyone actually catch something out here,” someone behind us says as they walk past.

Nearby is the all-important sound of the aerator that is keeping the supply of baitfish alive in a five-gallon bucket. This small device hooked to the side of a bucket makes fishing on the pier possible. The humming cuts the nighttime air and drones on like the sea itself in the dark.

At the end of the boardwalk, one can look out into the bay and linger for a moment at the prospect of reaching an end.



Graffiti and notes are etched onto the wood railings or sprayed anywhere there is a clean slate.

“Paul, I love you! Your crazy fuck-n troll.” Reads one such note on the railing.

Telegraph and Durant, 10:15 a.m.

Sound: Ironic Laughter

In the groove with headphones on, leaflets in hand, a man in a jean jacket alternately dances and hands passers-by leaflets for the Durant Street Café. Pedestrians weave by this jacketed-man and without even knowing why, look down in mild surprise at the ad they have taken as they glide down the block.

His work is a sleight-of-hand in reverse, poof, and you are carrying a colored slip of paper.

Across Durant another man works the other side. He has a distinctly different strategy, smiling and greeting people as they approach the corner. “Good morning,” he greets the pedestrians with a saccharine grin. He is having less luck.

Somehow these two men drift in a slightly different world than the panhandlers down the street near the “Asian ghetto.” They have a stack of flyers to get through, and the sooner they are gone, the sooner they can stop their shift on the corner.

A third man, pushing a cart down Telegraph shouts out a greeting above the din of cars to the jacketed man dancing. For a moment he stops handing out flyers and is completely enthralled by his friend passing by. With overt sarcasm and forgetting he is wearing headphones, he shouts at his friend that he should stop by the Café Durant for a nice hot breakfast. At the impossibility of his suggestion, he erupts into laughter at his own joke.

Chang-Lin Tein Center for East Asian Studies

Library 10:03 a.m.

Sound: Animal sounds from workers

In sweeping arcs, the crane sways in the air like the ubiquitous eucalyptus trees that spot the Berkeley campus. It seems an extension of the trees. Despite the tradition and permanence of the buildings that have been on campus for years, construction and growth seems equally as permanent on the Berkeley campus.

The new Chang-Lin Tien Center for East Asian Studies Library edges increasingly toward the sky. The banter of the workers can be heard in the bits of sound between the jackhammer-like pounding that comes from within the walls of the emerging structure.

Suddenly, a man with a blaze orange vest cuts through the hum of engines and cranes with a loud monkey grunt, “Hrrungh! Hrrungh!”

Without missing a beat, another worker responds with his own owl-like noise, “Huroo! Huroo!”



Near Sather Gate 6:50 a.m.

Sound: Leafblowing

Before the crowds of prospective students gather each day over the summer, and hidden to most who enjoy the beauty of the Berkeley campus, a host of workers is hard at work each morning in the early hours. From grounds workers who tend the lawn and plants, to men and women who sweep the streets in mini-street sweepers, the seemingly effortless beauty of life in Berkeley is in fact no accident.

Clouds of dust rise up in a gray haze above the swirling brushes that scour between the planter boxes, and masked figures work their way through the maze of benches and curbs. Leaf blowers are hitched to backs of workers near Cesar Chavez Student Center, and the din of the blower cuts through the morning air in a raucous roar.

The Camponielle 12:40 p.m.

Sound: Carillonist playing

To an outsider, one of the most glaring things missing from Berkeley is a sense of time. Lost in the veritable Never-never land of a college campus, Berkeley is unique even among colleges for its sense of living in a world unto its own. From college students who never want to leave, to the ideas and ideals that are reflected in local politics, Berkeley is its own utopia or dystopia, depending on one’s vantage point.

The Camponielle bell tower, however, is one small intrusion of reality into the nether-world of the campus. Announcing the passing of each hour, the bells toll out over the campus in relative obscurity. People both notice and don’t notice the bells of the camponielle.

“My favorite time was when it had been cloudy for about a week and then, right when the sun finally broke, someone played ‘Here Comes the Sun’ on the bells,” said Danielle Lubivich, Phd. Student in Biology.

The Camponielle is a mainstay on the campus, and the way that time is announced as a song speaks volumens about the relaxed feel of Berkeley. It is simply an afterthought.