Sculpted

While the tower stands, it takes a full month and a half to climb from its base to its summit, if a man walks unburdened. But few men climb the tower with empty hands; the pace of most men is slowed by the cart of bricks that they pull behind them.

I sleep and sleep. Eventually, I set off into the midday sun, flip-flops flapping, on the San Tomas Aquino trail... which turns out to be a two lane tarmac route along the side of a flood channel. It runs straight through business parks and under highways, with little shelter from the sun.

A few miles south, somewhere in Santa Clara, I proceed to the Triton Museum (tritonmuseum.org). It’s cool inside. Free entry. Two galleries closed for restocking. In the rotunda there are some interesting paper trails by Michael Shemchuck, while the remaining gallery has subculture eyes, skulls, and anatomies by Miguel Machuca.

Outside, in the shade of mature redwoods, stand a man, a woman, and their two dogs. I mobile, their silhouettes loom life size by the path. There’s also an artist’s guild exhibition in one of the adjoining buildings. Not very inspiring.

I spend some tome trying to find Santa Clara. It seems to be island malls surrounded by residential low-rise sprawl. I eat a huge bowl of beef mami with achara at the Topping Tree Filipino cafe and, bloated, attempt to walk it off.

Santa Clara Central Park is a disappointment. Half of it is tennis courts and baseball field. The lake is dry. Geese strut around disconsolately, making the remaining grass uninviting for sitting on.

It’s late afternoon when I come across yet another mall with a juice bar. I get a large Apple’n’Greens smoothie. It’s always a mistake to order large in the US. Just saying.

I get back to my room, shower off the day, and strike north up the trail, past the Levi’s stadium (home of the 49ers), to the convention center. Tonight is the 5th annual Desifest - “the largest south Asian comedy festival in the USA”. There’s very little signage. The auditorium is maybe half full. I’m one of very few non-Asians present, and cautiously seat myself right at the back.

There are seven comics. Some of them are very good, some not so. There’s a lot of racial humour. The women get to do the sex gags. I laugh moderately, but am not unhappy when it wraps up, on schedule, after 2 hours.

The walk back down the trail in the dark is amazing. The sky just seems so crisp and the mix of cicadas and traffic soothes me on my way. Saturday night and there’s no sign of life. Santa Clara, where are you?