To explain my perspective on Berkeley, I think I should simply say this:
I knew exactly what I wanted from college when I came to UC Berkeley, and I got it.
My college counselor in high school suggested that I attend Swarthmore, and I could only shake my head. I knew why she suggested it; although I've never feared public speaking and always enjoyed expressing myself to others, my natural state is to keep my head down and study passionately-- not the sort of passion that gets one out of the house. Given my particular circumstances and my experiences in high school, I had identified what I wanted to improve upon in myself: not to become more "outgoing", for I appreciated the aspects of my character that made me less so, but to make myself more willing to engage in what came to me, more excited about opportunities that would draw me out of what came easily to me. I wanted to be bombarded by new situations, strange people, and I wanted to have the strength to accept that with grace and roll with whatever came. I wanted those situations to come to me, I suppose, because I knew that otherwise I would be too easily satisfied, that I would not take the initiative because I was already in some sense happy. But I wanted a new kind of challenge beyond being "happy", to instead be striving perpetually for a more meaningful existence; I wanted to be able to take the person I had become and apply that in all kinds of environments, and see what would happen.
So I came to Berkeley.
I'm not from California originally, although I have family in SoCal, so when I visited the Bay Area I was somewhat at a loss. Yet following my intuitions, I didn't take a structured tour of the campus and instead wandered around, noting the permeability of its boundaries, the wild variety of the people that populated the town and the campus. I stared in baffled awe at those sporting the regalia of the hyphy movement, grinned obligingly at the aging hippies and street preachers at every corner. There was a lot of new packed into a relatively small space, and like molecules bouncing all the quicker for the increase in pressure, I found myself thrust with unusual frequency into situations I was unprepared for. They were situations I could have avoided -- and many do -- but I chose to perceive them as opportunities, new mirrors in which to see a different reflection of myself, and from the cultivation of that attitude I foresaw that I would grow.
I believe I have, in a way that I would not have anywhere else.
In some sense I have not immersed myself in any particular social group or style, because that's never how I've been, but I've taken great joy in taking advantage of all sorts of opportunities. I teach DeCals, undergraduate-run classes that offer credit, both to improve my lecture and facilitating abilities for a possible future profession -- one that runs in my family -- and to meet new people as my 'students'. I've enjoyed co-op room-to-rooms, found endless entertainment in compelling every sports player I meet to high-five me by shouting "Go Bears!" -- because how could they let me one-up them in school spirit? -- and savored every trip to The City that we can manage. Getting to San Francisco is very convenient with the BART, but it's incredible how many opportunities Berkeley itself offers; the environment is rich with possibilities. The only problem is that it's easy to miss that.
Perhaps it wasn't always so, but it's easy to confine oneself to a particular group and never experience the rest. The Greek system is vibrant but self-contained, and the co-ops are worlds unto themselves. Members of those cultures do not always venture beyond them, to say nothing of those who would rather cloister themselves on the quieter north side of campus to stick to their studies (that would be me my first two years, which I should say I do not regret). You'll see them on campus and gaze upon them, but you will not be compelled to do any more.
I recommend you do, however; I highly recommend you do. There is a lot of potential at Berkeley, because it is enormous, a roiling cauldron of possibility, thanks in large part to the high bar set for those who attend. It is not so united as it was before, perhaps, and it is easy to pass through without ever finding oneself in a politically tense situation. The college bubble is always there to embrace you if you seek it-- but right outside the borders of the campus, the borders that are barely there, the town presses in, expanding the scope of what one must consider "normal".
That itself will make you a greater person.