By Jonathan Zwickel

EVEN FROM THE exterior, Reggae Runnins Village Store (505 Divisadero, S.F. 415-922-2442) in the Western Addition is unique. Its facade has a colorful, detailed mural depicting a lush tropical forest that twists its way inside the store. The scent of Nag Champa incense drifts out the open door, and the slow pulse of reggae percolates over the white noise of passing traffic. Cross the threshold and the feeling is instantly refreshing: you've stepped into an oasis of calm battened against the frenetic rush of Divisadero Street.

"If you've ever been to Africa, there's a real sense of freedom, of being unburdened," says Empress Sarah, Reggae Runnins' ever smiling owner. "You feel this really warm sensation that you're in the womb of creation." In the 10 years she's run the store, Sarah has cultivated a similar sense of grounded, laid-back welcome. Reggae Runnins is a crossroads of Afro-Caribbean culture that's been formed by Sarah's global travels and Rastafarian faith. "I call it the 'Overground Railroad,' "she says.

But come October all that may change, as Sarah is going to lose her lease. "The landlord says he needs me out to renovate the building," Sarah says. The news has her concerned but far from stressed. "We've been here a long time, but I want a new energy. I want to create the same thing but in a new space." She's planning on moving to a larger facility in the Western Addition or the Mission District, provided she can find an affordable lease. This fall, to help fund the move, Sarah is holding dinner parties and small concerts at Reggae Runnins. The goal is to increase the store's clientele and visibility and perhaps attract investors. "I really have faith that everything is just going to come together at the right moment," she says.

Reggae Runnins offers the community a place to gather over traditional Afro-Caribbean food, art, and music. Like the exterior, the small dining area is brightened by Afrocentric murals by local painter J.J. Jackson, and an array of handmade masks, clothing, mud cloth, and jewelry. "When people buy something like a dashiki or a mud cloth, it starts to change them; they realize that there's more to the world than the nine-to-five rat race," she says. "There's a lot of exchange – I tell them where it came from and who made it and what it means. Before you know, it starts to wake up something within their spirit, and they start to see who they really are."

In the past few years Sarah has devoted greater attention to the restaurant, expanding its health-conscious menu. Hearty stews, plantains, greens, fritters, rice, and beans – food of the African diaspora, she says – are prepared from recipes collected during her travels or passed along by friends. Every dish is ital, the Rastafarian term for meat-free and organic, which locals seem to love. "This neighborhood has evolved into something really amazing, full of really open-minded people," she says.

It's the loyal customers who've helped make Reggae Runnins more than simply a store and restaurant. "We have a big following," Sarah says. "People come in that are totally stressed out, and they have some food and sit here a minute, and they're like, 'I feel so much better!' "

Jake Stoneman, Sarah's newest employee, beams from behind the counter as he serves up a bowl of African peanut stew. Hooked on her vegan sandwiches and ginger beer, he had been coming in almost every day for four years. When Sarah asked if he wanted to work with her, he couldn't say no. "Sarah's been a friend, a mom, and a spiritual adviser to me for a long time," he says.