This weekend I embarked on my third street retreat through the organization Faithful Fools, located in the Tenderloin District of San Francisco, a place where many homeless reside. I spent the day on my own observing the homeless community. I carried no belongings- no watch, phone, water bottle, or money. It was raining the entire day and I coped with being soaked. I ended up spending time at the public library and saw and smelt a number of homeless people doing the same. I noticed that the homeless people developed strategies to stay much dryer than I was.
I had lunch at the soup kitchen Glide, which serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner seven days a week. All of the homeless people at the soup kitchen new what to do. I felt silly for asking where the line started, and was afraid of cutting in front of someone. I stood in line in a room called, “Freedom Hall.” The ratio of women to men was approximately 1:13. The meal was served in the churches basement. Kind volunteers with smiles served me a tray that food had been thrown on. After receiving my food I nervously looked for a table to sit. I had a conversation with one man, although it was very hard to hear what he was saying due to the very loud atmosphere. The feeling is quickly eat your food and go so the next person can do the same. I could tell volunteers were confused by my presence- who was I, why was I here?
I reflected on what it felt like to be on the other side of the spoon. I have served many meals at homeless shelters. I have been that young girl who smiles and hands the homeless their tray of food. Yet, when you are on the other side of the spoon the feelings are different.