Nowhere to Sleep: Kicked Out by the House of God

"You can't sleep here, this is the house of God.", the man in the church told me politely. I walked away feeling very exhausted that night after being dropped off by some friends from Rio de Janeiro in this small historic town on Brazil's southeastern coast. They were worried about me hitchhiking in this part of Brazil, why not? When the country is notoriously famous for crimes, killings, and other danger, at least that was what the media portrayed to the whole world.

They offered to drive me up to the spiritual community where I was going to volunteer. The place was still in another remote town, and it was too late for them to continue driving as they still had to go back to Rio. I told them that I was fine to spend the night in this town. I masked my own worries as a cheery smile and hugged each of them for the last time. I was already grateful enough that they drove me up to here. I assured them that I am used to this kind of uncertainty and that I had been traveling this way for a long time. I had to make them feel everything was fine so they could drive safely back to the city right away, my own personal worries wouldn't even matter to me at this point.

Then I felt this emptiness as I watched them go.

My sudden arrival was unexpected, I felt this Welcome Stranger everywhere in town. I was looking for a place to stay but the place was filled with tourists and Argentine hippies selling their crafts and harassing people on the streets. It was my failed attempt to look for a decent place to sleep, either the rooms were too expensive for me or the affordable posadas were fully booked. I was still at the early stage of my great Latin American journey, so it was just me worrying at the moment. Nevermind if my little money would last two more years in South America. This situation was just a harsh reminder that I am indeed, homeless.

A lifetime of looking for a place to call home could be too much to handle at this point, but what more really living up to it. I had all these thoughts in my head as I looked for some space, even just some space where I could rest my head and let go of this weight that was bringing me down. I was still anxious about what was ahead of me. I gave myself a blank page as I braved this new world.

Only the mad ones would do this, or the hopeless of the crowd who have nowhere to go in this world anymore. My quite sad attempt to live life to the fullest while fearlessly embracing danger along the way. I was hoping that something would finally bring me to the light in the end, but the tragedy was it didn't happen. I was really living life. I was going through it all, going outside the comfort of a loving relationship, the safety of my own place and a financial promise of a good job.

A foreign woman wandering around late at night in this town, vulnerable to the worst of the humans, probably not for the money but for a moment of joy. Nevermind the face and the too tired body to fight them back. I was looking for a safe refuge during the darkest hours of my life, somewhere to hide. Somewhere to call home for a bit. Somewhere where I could lay me to sleep while preserving my own dignity.

I saw a somewhat evangelical church, small Brazilian towns are filled with these surprisingly, so why not make use of it? I'm not religious myself as I had let go of this years ago. Brought by my own cultural upbringing, but then I found out that there was really no hope in it. I saw an empty church, thinking that maybe I could sleep inside. Was it me begging for some little space when nature has a lot to offer, wild and free? No, I was definitely in a wrong place, very unprepared for this condition. No tent, nothing. Bad. But I had come to terms with myself, things like this could happen at some point along the way, better embrace it as there was no time to escape anyway. Just another part of my own journey I should say. I was expecting to stay in hostels or in some strangers' houses through couchsurfing, but this was life for the few adventurous ones I guess. Unexpected.

I found myself taking a short nap at the corner of this huge cathedral late that night until people started coming out. I was again kicked out in the cold. Ahhh, I was so tired getting rejected. It was too unsafe outside that I was even worried losing a few of my life's belongings. What would happen to me if someone would still have the nerve to rob me and leave me with nothing? That would even be worse. I had to protect whatever I could protect, oh yeah, even my life by the way. If that would be too important for anyone.

I was rejected many times by the churches that night until I was not surprised by it anymore. I finally found this empty building where I could hide from the rest of the world, sleep like a baby and be happy. I unrolled some clothes, laid my backpack on the cold concrete floor and made myself comfortable. Home sweet home at last. I felt like nobody would see me here. The part of the commercial building was still well lit, looking new and everything was closed.

Well, not really. I was awoken by a shop clerk or owner, a black man who put a cup of Coca Cola and a Brazillian pastry alongside me on the floor. That was really humbling, the pure kindness of the human spirit. Looking at me that time, he must have really thought I was a homeless Brazilian. I was looking like one anyway. However, there were no words between us at that moment. I was quite surprised at him, at myself, at my own life.

Later on in this journey, I realized who really restored my faith in humanity. Strangers who welcomed me in their humble homes, firemen, policemen, truck drivers and a shop clerk. Perhaps, those people who were really not in the house of God.