What happens to homeless in the cold?

Oh the freezing weather. Well, it's not actually that bad any more, but lucky me, Vancouver had more snow this year, than anytime within the last 20+ years. The other day, as I was adding a fourth layer to my clothing, a thought struck me. "I wonder what the homeless do in this kind of weather?" 

I finished bundling up and decided to walk downtown. There, as I walked the streets of the notorious "Downtown Eastside", I noticed that there was little difference in the amount of activity that went on. I saw just as many people dealing drugs, women in mini skirts waiting for cars to pull up, and people sitting on snow-covered benches smoking crack, as I do on warm days.

Whereas most human beings hole up in their warm and cozy homes, the world of drug addicts goes on as usual. 

I think it was then that I realized just how strong Satan's grip was on these people. Despite the -11C (that is 12F) degrees that is was, people were willing to do anything for their next fix. Simply the weather alone could cause 

major damage or even death to any one of those frail bodies that stood at street corners in T-Shirts. 

My walk became a prayer walk, as my heart was saddened at what I saw. 

When I made it home and had curled up by my heater, defrosting my toes, I thanked God for the life he has blessed me with. God has kept me alive and healthy for 27 years. Wow. 

That was a powerful walk that afternoon. 

The Samaritan Woman

It's now 2009. 

So far, Nieu Communities has been a stretching experience. God has placed many challenges before me that have both shaped and opened my mind. During these last few months here, I have had the chance to work at ministry called JustPotters. It is a small business that is run from the basement of the church I attend. 

JustPotter's focus is to enable people on the margins (drug addicts, homeless, or people with mental or physical disabilities) to find employment and to re-integrate them in to normal life. It is a pottery studio that produces beautiful mugs, plates, and platters for local businesses and other customers. 

One thing I am learning, as I work alongside these rather rough-edged people, is how to love and accept them for who they are, not as "the homeless person" or the "drug addict." I think of Christ's interaction with the Samaritan woman in the gospel of John. To the rest of the world, the folks I work with represent the Samaritan woman. The person, back then, no jewish man wanted to interact with. 

There are many days, when Stephanie (a paranoid schizophrenic) clashes with Peter (a former homeless man) and I find myself between the two adults sorting out whatever the problem is. But on other days, I arrive at JustPotters and am greeted by Kathy (a mentally challenged woman with only three teeth) with such a warm hello, that I feel so blessed to be there. 

I look at these people and realize how quick I was to avoid them in the past, but here at JustPotters I am learning from them how to mold the clay and how to be at ease around so much hurt and anger. 

My housemate, Anjali, works with them as well. We decided early on that we wanted to be able to engage them outside of their "work time". A few weeks ago, we had them all over at our house for dinner. I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I thought they might bring the same gruffness to the dinner table or that they may not like sitting so close to each other. Amazingly enough, after we prayed over the food, dinner went as smoothly as if you had your best friends over. We laughed and ate and talked for hours. At one point the rest of our housemates joined and we began discussing Christianity. 

Here again, I realized that I wasn't seeing them as equal human beings. I didn't trust that they could mind their manors or hold a pleasant conversation. In fact, I had expected the same impersonal vibe I often get, when I serve dinner at the homeless shelter here. Well, I was very wrong.

God has placed me in a very unique ministry. It is challenging me in very different ways than I expected!

Aren't we so alike!?

Sometimes, I love watching people. Now that it's dark early in the evening, I get to peer into people's homes and watch them go about their business- like reading a book or eating their dinner. Yesterday, I was riding the bus home from the halloween party I went to. It was a ceroc dance party (similar to swing dance without the difficult footwork) at a community center, where my friends and I were paired with dance partners who were 20-40 years older than us (so cute). During the bus ride back, I was observing the jovial mood of the trick-or-treaters while trying not to get poked in the eye by the butterfly woman next to me. Later, I passed by pirates talking on cell phones, superheroes drinking coffee, fairies serving food, and lions pushing pumpkins in strollers. I thought to myself: "Isn't this a funny scene!? Only one day in the year, do people dress in bizarre costumes and act like it's completely normal."

When I got home, I glanced over at the apartment across the street from me, and saw the lady who lives there washing dishes. I had to smile, for no matter where I am in the world, people all do the same things. Whether it is dressing up for a national holiday or simply washing dishes, people behave so alike. 

Whenever I go back to Germany, I find myself standing on the right side of the escalator, speaking more softly in public places, and waiting like everyone else for people to exit the U-Bahn (the subway) before entering. It is the way the Germans expect people to behave. Here too, I find myself falling in step with the way people do things. I use cloth napkins, bring my own grocery bags, sign my name on "help the ___" petitions, and scrape my food into the compost pile in our garden. It is fun to watch people's manners and to realize how similar we are to each other. Each culture is different, but at the end of the day, we all take showers, do the dishes and have to work to put food on our table. 

Anyway, just some random thoughts of mine.

The Parade of the Lost Souls

"Honor the Dead!" That was the theme of tonight's event. First, we gathered at my house and carved pumpkins. For most of us, it was our first time having a go at the messy vegetables. But, after much sawing and scraping we produced rather sorry-looking Jack-O-Lanterns. 

Then, finally, the clock struck 6:30pm and we made our way to Commercial Drive 

(the main road we live off of). 

It was time for the Parade of the Lost Souls, an annual event that honors the dead. According to Wikipedia, it's an evening where: 

"Performers, artists and willing spirits come together to honour the dead, wake the living and celebrate the brilliant cycle of life. Skeletal Brides, blessed witches, ghastly ghouls, and prancing pixies mingle side by side." 

We joined crowds of people dressed in bizarre costumes who walked up and down the closed off street. 

There were flame jugglers, choirs that sang eerie-sounding songs in latin, and a plethora of strange dances and performances. 

Of course, an event such as this speaks volumes about the general vibe of the neighborhood. Many of the people who were yelling: "Honor the dead" or were hanging from tree branches, were people I recognized from supermarkets or from coffee shops. It was definitely their chance to act as strange as they liked because for once, everyone else would join them. 

Luckily, it was a clear night (no rain), so we ventured out of our warm and cozy home a number of times. Each time, we encountered different performances (like an opera singer singing a dismal and bone-chilling song) and saw more costumes (like Jesus on stilts). But in the end, when I finally went to sleep, I decided that it was a lot less creepy than some other things I've seen here in this neighborhood. That is, having the wackos all gather together, meant that the rest of the area was weirdos free!  :)

The end of gardening

Since fall has arrived and with it colder, rainier weather, our weekly time in the community garden is coming to an end. The community garden is an empty housing lot that was converted into a garden about a year ago. It took months and months and countless truck loads of compost to establish the beautiful patch of green near our house. Many residents of the area grow vegetables there, as well as people from a local church and us, Nieu Communities. Most of the produce that comes from the land is then used for the churches homeless ministry (sometimes, we've been able to take some veggies home as well).

Usually, before we begin gardening, we'd eat lunch together. We called it: "Simple Meal" as everyone would bring whatever "treasures" they happened to have in the fridge and share them. The neighbor lady would usually bring over a bottle of homemade wine at that point and we'd feast and worship together. 

As a community, Nieu Communities will now shift our group ministry to other things. There's an abundance of need and opportunities for volunteers here, and being able to join something as a group is fantastic! I can't say that I will miss the weeding or the bugs, but spending time caring for God's creation was a wonderful experience. 

A Rocha and the Roadtrippers

It's now the beginning of October and we have just had our second set of Road trippers. These are people from all over who come to check out Nieu Communities for a week. Their schedule resembles a condensed form of the weeks we spent in orientation. I really enjoy having these groups come for they add a great new twist to our community. 

Here, we are sitting at my house eating dinner together. 

One of the places we take them to, is an area called A Rocha. It is one of many locations world-wide that believes in showing God's love for creation. 

This includes environmental action through community-based conservation projects, scientific research, and education. It's a fascinating place, and after spending 

most of the morning in a discussion about God's Kingdom, we joined the staff and helped harvest vegetables (those are speckled beans I'm harvesting). Most of the food gets sold locally or donated to ministries. 

Coming from an urban background, I tend to be skeptical about people's ideas on "living close to one's food (as in growing your own)", "eating organically", and many other environmental beliefs. There's plenty of it I don't understand, so it was helpful to spend some time with the people at A Rocha and listen to what they had to say. 

Me, a homeless woman

It's hard to believe that this beautiful city, full of high-rises, cafes, and parks is home to the most desolate neighborhood in all of Canada known as the downtown Eastside. In a 10 block radius, addiction runs wild, prostitution flourishes, and homelessness is a given. It was there in the middle of that madness that I became "one of them." For 24 hours, I wandered the streets, ate from soup kitchens, and earned a few bucks panhandling. 

It happened to be that it was "Welfare Wednesday" - the day everyone receives their checks from the government. On a normal day, you will see people smoking crack and dealing drugs, but on welfare wednesdays, there is a whole new level of added frenzy. People finally have money and they have only one thing on their minds. Drugs! One girl we talked to, who had recently become a dealer, had a guy come up during our conversation, and ask to buy some crack. To my great surprise, she sold him some for 2 bucks! I never knew it was THAT cheap.

 

My partner and I wandered the streets, often stumbling across people shooting up heroine, but it wasn't until night rolled in that we could really sense the misery of the place. After our dinner at a mission (one of those where you sit through a sermon to get your food) we continued to walk the streets praying for people we saw. Finally at 1 am, we were given shelter for the night (well, for 4 hours that is) and crashed on the floor amidst grime and mice (yikes!).

The next morning (at 5 am), we dragged ourselves outside and spent the next few hours trying to find shelter from from the rain. After being shoed away from doorstep to doorstep, we finally found a place to sit- it happened to be the police station, how ironic. Breakfast wasn't being served until 9:30 am, so it was a LONG morning. At least, by that time we truly looked homeless!

The hardest experience for me, was panhandling (begging). I never expected people to show me so much mercy! The sign I held (which cleverly covered my painted fingernails) said: "Please Help", and help they did! Within 20 minutes, I had earned over five dollars, had a person try to find a shelter for me, and even had a guy give me his lunch (gulp). People were literally dumping their change in to my cup and all I could do was keep my I-am-so-helpless mask on. Perhaps it was the dirt I had rolled in before, or the fact that I am young and they thought there was still hope for me, but people just kept giving (little did they know I was planning a trip to Starbucks with their donations). When the guy gave me his lunch, I HAD to get out of there. I left Gastown and fled back to Hastings (downtown eastside). It was almost comforting to be amongst the crazies again.

So that was my wild experience as a homeless woman. I learned so much by mingling amongst "them" and felt God chipping a little bit of my prejudices away. Thanks for reading!