Nowhere to Sleep: Kicked Out by the House of God
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"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.
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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.
He's not a man of God then
I enjoyed reading this, nice writing style where i see characters, not just persons. This story brings up a lot of memories as i travelled long time finding shelters like this, the most amazing part of this approach is in the people you meet, the good souls and the i-throw-you-out ones :-)
Thank you.
Thanks for the love juice lol :-)
This comment has received a 3.87 % upvote from @lovejuice thanks to: @diabolika. They have officially sprayed their dank amps all over your post rewards. GOOD TIMES! Vote for Aggroed!
Institutions are rarely where to go for help, in my experience. People are often kind, and even generous. Institutions have policies, and rules, and the hapless employees either follow them, or join the homeless.
A couple days ago my neighbor in the trailer park picked up a hitchhiker, and then had to just drop her off at his house. His wife wouldn't tolerate the hitchhiker in their tiny trailer.
It was about to start raining, so I offered her a place to crash, until the rain ended. She accepted, and slept on my sofa.
All hell broke loose. The neighbors all started talking, and the landlady sent me a nasty text about transients, and that she had to leave, immediately. I pointed out I could have guests, for up to 14 days, and that was that.
The next day the landlady and her biker husband came storming over, after we had come back from the grocery store. The hitcher and I went over to the office after putting away the groceries, and she gave them her name, and they chatted a bit.
Everything was ok after that. When you can reach the people, rather than the policies, people help each other out. The landlady even gave her a list of local resources for homeless folks, so what had set her off wasn't the person, the hitchhiker, but her rules she had to follow.
I despise institutions! LOL
People, well, sometimes I can tolerate people =p
The lack of empathy always surprises me in others. We are all just people - but homeless people and people in crisis are so often treated as "other."
You are right about institutions - I volunteered at a soup kitchen once and they forced the people there to attend a church service before being able to eat. I always thought that was garbage - you should help people because you genuinely want to help them, not force them to listen to a religious service JUST TO EAT FOOD as a some kind of misguided attempt to introduce them to religion.
This!
I am a poor man, but despite that - maybe because of that, actually - I share what I have, because I have been more poor, and in need before. I do not want others to go hungry, or be cold and wet, as I have.
It is humane, the very definition of our nature itself, to help folks in need. Institutions are not humane. They, by definition, are inhumane.
Hi, evilone:D....I spent from '79 to '85 out there and lived. Glad you did, too!
I, too, could write a book/blog on it but I've got philosophical itches to scratch instead....Although, I am thinking 2-6 months in India next year.
Who knows...
I'm glad you made it through that, @diabolika...
Thank you.
Your experiences are eye opening! It's morning surprising about who opened their homes and hearts to you, nor is it too surprisingly who didn't. Your journey is simply captivating.
Thank you so much for sharing your stories!
Thank you as always.
The streets get mean when nobody knows your name. I've been there and felt like I was a ghost. Nobody even acknowledges you unless you are encroaching on their space. Thankfully there are some kind souls out there who will try to help where they can.
I agree, there are bad and kind souls everywhere.
sadly, this reminds me of the "no place to sleep" scene from the 1991 movie "Life Stinks" featuring Mel Brooks:
Sorry you had such an awful experience, it can be disheartening to be unable to find a place to stay. There is still goodness in people and that's what matters.
Yeah, in the end, it was not such an awful experience. There are still kind souls in the world.
Thank You sometimes we all need to be reminded that we all could be homeless in the blink of an eye.............