I went over to Virginia Beach the other day for yet another job interview. (I’m setting some kind of record, I’m sure.) And afterward, with no money to spend yet. I stopped by to the Virginia Beach library. I’ve admired it from afar. Its a silver building that’s built out of wavy metal, like the ocean. Its amazing. It has more than just one small shelf of DVDs. It has at least two stories, maybe three. It has new releases readily available and not on hold. And no one knows me there. The librarians on the Eastern Shore are starting to know me. They’re starting to say things to me like, “Don’t treat this place like your living room.” Ugh.
The best thing about the VA Beach library is that there’s a small coffee shop near the front entrance, and yesterday, I was blessed with a little bit of culture as I sat and ate my lunch. Three women were drinking coffee together and talking. They were talking in a language other than English. I was so excited. Listening to them breathed a little bit of energy into me.
Riding the bus in San Francisco, you can be surrounded by 15 different cultures, languages, ethnicities of people. After awhile you don’t even notice it. Its normal. Even in Knoxville, not nearly as diverse, different kinds ofd people are walking around town. One of the men that interviewed me (and there have been many!) told me that there were five different types of people that live on the Eastern Shore (not to stereotype or anything): retirees, artists, farmers (I guess that’s us), migrant workers, and water-men (I think that’s what he called them and not fishermen). I’m not sure if he’s right about the categories or not, but that you can even attempt to categorize all of the people that live on the Shore is significant. In San Francisco, the list would be never-ending, but it might start like….hipsters, professionals/businessmen, street kids, hippies, yogis, homosexuals, wealthy young families, artists, burners (I think that’s what the Burning Man folks are called) Filipinos, Latinos, Russians….and then every other nationality in existence. Oh, and don’t forget, small town girls trying to make it in a big city. That’s what we were.
Now I feel more like a big city girl trying to make it in a small town.