California Dreaming: When Silicon Valley, despite its rounds of funding & futuristic tech, taught me money is not the greatest luxury

One perfect fall afternoon I was galavanting by a bus stop, on a mundane street of no particular significance or beauty, barring a few trees resplendent in the golden and red hues of the season. A white sedan distracted me from my daydreaming with its sharp audible U-turn. It pulled over to the kerb I was at. The Caucasian male driver rolled down the car's windows and impatiently demanded in perfect American, "Clean house? Clean house?" My eyes rolled out in surprise and amusement, which he mistook for confusion and asked, "Speak English? Speak English?" Appalled I replied, "I speak English. Do you?" Embarrassed, he drove away just as noisily.

I am consistently mistaken as being Hispanic and am showered with such spontaneous offers all the time. Depending on the season, and its impact on my skin tone, there may be a few changes: Italian, Spanish, Greek, African-American…. Once, mistaken for an Ethiopian, I even got offered an arranged marriage proposal!

During my first job in America, as a children's photographer with 'The Picture People', a US-photo chain, there was no dearth of confused people who couldn't place my looks to my skills in the English language. "You know, except for your accent you speak pretty good English," a random old customer had once told me as we went through pictures of his grandchild. I returned the compliment promptly, "So do you!" He looked flabbergasted.

This never fails to entertain me. Our outlooks tend to be more subconsciously stereotypical than we'd like to admit. Perhaps this stems from a deep human need to make sense of everything, attempting to understand through the parameters we have at hand. This includes organising things (and people) into containers in our minds and labeling them. Especially so, in a geography that has turned into a massive melting pot primarily due to technology. So, for instance if you're Filipino, you might be mistaken for a nurse, if you're Indian or Asian, you might be assumed to be working in technology and if you look Hispanic you might be mistaken as holding a blue collar job.

Being mistaken for a cleaning lady and being complimented on a language of privilege made me aware of people's perceptions. I have had to face my own subconscious urges to label as well.

Like the one time I was about to give my leftover of untouched fries from a meal at In n Out to a man sitting on the kerb lost in thoughts, whom I had assumed to be a homeless man given his unkempt appearance and his clothing of faded well-worn shorts and torn t-shirt. That is until he walked into his parked Maserati and sped off leaving me slightly baffled and educated in non assumption.

Another time while studying at UC Berkeley, I found a fairly well dressed man who seemed well-to-do at the very least. Minutes later he walked to lug a shopping cart filled with all of his worldly possessions. Among its contents were an electric guitar and a phone, both of which he charged via a solar power charged battery, a hack he had made himself. And one, if he wanted to, he could have monetised into a million dollar company.


During my first job in America there was no dearth of confused people who couldn't place my looks to my skills in the English language.

Soon after, I encountered people at driving ranges and golf courses who were not corporate hotshots but held blue collar jobs and sometimes drove luxury vehicles. (Anybody can play, memberships or certain golf attire are not mandatory.)

I was and remain fascinated by this blurring of classes and labels, especially coming from India where classes are pretty defined and form the backbone of a society ruled by the economics of services. Can you find a lower middle class person and a Bollywood star or a finance prince in Bombay at the same place doing the same thing? Probably not. But you may find Mark Zuckerberg hiking at the Stanford Dish along with absolutely anybody. This to me is a layer of freedom that is truer to the spirit of democracy.

After all, fortunes change overnight here, as portrayed splendidly in the lyrics of one of my favourite songs about Silicon Valley Here Comes Another Bubble by The Richter Scales:

...suffered through the market crash
lost a giant wad of cash
pink slips, burger flips
would you like some fries?
happy days are here again
Larry Page, Sergey Brin

time to write a business plan
so I can be like those guys!....

It is deeply humbling to be stripped off of presumptions and open up to the fact that money is not the only form of currency, but perhaps it is the most overrated form there is. The millions and the things they buy may be fabulous but can they bring life's little joys that bring fulfillment?

A nippy autumn dawn in the woods is all it takes to realise that the greatest luxury in the world is, obviously not anything money can buy, not even love, but crisp pristine morning air bursting with possibilities.

When there's sunshine, blue skies, cumulus clouds, perfect weather, crisp fresh air to fill the lungs with, mountains to hike in, lush trees especially those bending with heavy fruit, a plethora of parks, public libraries, music wafting out of cafes, free festivals celebrating art, wine, jazz, heartwarming storytimes for tots and even dogs, farmers' markets, free open-air concerts…, you realise that you don't need to be a millionaire to enjoy the finest little joys of everyday life. That so many elements of a good life can cost nothing. That irrespective of RSUs, rounds of funding and cars of the future, life in Silicon Valley is bursting with richness. That richness is actually everywhere, we only have to pause to look.


- The author is a San Francisco-based writer, journalist, energy healer and meditation teacher. She is the author of 'Nawazuddin Siddiqui: An Ordinary Life' and a former foreign correspondent with The Economic Times. She can be reached on Twitter @ReadRituparna.