An Urban Girl

They came. Thugs dressed in cloaks, in all their glory. And then they killed hundreds of thousands of our fathers. Fathers who were visionaries, change makers, civil servants and patriots. A single shot piercing their hearts, their eyes covered. We were stunned. Then fear set in. And then slowly we became numb. They closed our schools, sent our mothers home from work, told us what to wear, what to eat or drink, what to read and listen to. They didn ’t even have to tell us what to say, we were shocked into silence. Then they picked a war with a neighbor, and we lost more and more loved ones. Some say a million. Life went on, in a sea of dark colored uniforms, and among men that had not shaved or showered for weeks. Somewhere along the way, what to wear, what to read, and having fun, took on much more meaning than it really deserved. And we began living our lives in a clandestine manner. Literature, films, and music, the ones that mattered anyways, were now contraband, and

As you may know from reading my blog, I am perpetually missing the urban life in Silicon Valley. But I wake up each day determined to cast a loving gaze, determined to find the Fun, the Culture, the Food, the Hot Spots (and I don’t mean WIFI!)…. Recently though, I have been thinking that what Silicon Valley maybe suffering from is not a shortage of fun places…but perhaps more a shortage of… well, err, fun people?!?? Please, let me explain. For 4 years I worked in downtown San Jose. Across the street from two large towers owned by an elite Silicon Valley company, Adobe, which, rumor has it, employs thousands. Around the corner from a huge convention centre and steps away from a university with over 30,000 students (not to mention a large number of faculty and administrators). Nestled among 100 or so other office high rises, presumably filled with people. For 4 years I would step out of my office at least twice a day, wondering whether I would ever run into another person. This downtown