(Photos: Shio Ramen at Santoka, 10/31/2009; below, Chicken Leek Soup and Tuna Melt at Clementine, 10/26/2009; )
Who says that there are "no seasons" in Southern California?... The year's last burst of summery heat has given way to an autumnal chill, graced with the indescribably beautiful fall light...
The cold is bracing, although laughable to friends in other, less temperate parts of the country... As the weather in dips to temperatures below 60, I dig out the wool coats and tights and look forward to more soup adventures...
Since I've returned to eating solid food again after the scourge of a cold last month, I regret that my initial zeal for soup has waned somewhat in favor of crisp green salads, my homemade quiche (watch this space for story and recipe), snappy, thin-skinned red grapes, and surprisingly juicy persimmons...
But I still look forward to the comfort of a warm bowl of broth... Which led me to think of those who don't have the luxury of driving for pho or even the simple means to open a can of something from Trader Joe's... I've been hatching this plan to help serve Thanksgiving dinner at the Los Angeles Mission since I started the blog, and last Saturday, I attended a volunteer orientation for the Thanksgiving dinner event on Nov. 25...
Armed with my sister's stainless steel commuter mug full of her high-octane French roast, I sped east on the 10 for the 9 a.m. volunteer orientation... When I looked up the directions to the Mission the street view photograph on the Website did not merely show a stucco and brick building... It showed a stucco and brick building with a line of people in front of it...
I could not help but compare it to the time I looked up my sister's house on Google and saw that the photograph used was one that was taken during their remodel, which took almost a year to complete... The photo was taken from an angle that showed off the outhouse that was provided for the construction workers during the project... It was on their front lawn for so long after the main work was done that it was several weeks after it was removed that I noticed it was gone...
We're hoping that the Google map people need to update their photos of the neighborhood soon... But I know that sadly, the line in front of 303. E. 5th Street is probably never going to disappear...
I drove around to the back of the building as the Website instructed, in order to get "safe, secure" parking... I felt a guilty pang as I remembered Jolene's admonishment that morning to "be careful" when parking downtown... I snapped at her with something to the effect of not going downtown to be afraid and suspicious of people simply because they were poor...
I should have been more charitable and cognizant of her concern then... I'm trying to understand more that while it's nobody's fault that they are poor, it's also nobody's fault that they are not... But at the same time, I cannot help but wish that all of us could at least be more respectful of everyone's humanity - and innocence until proven guilty - regardless of external appearances...
The parking lot was full... A beleaguered-looking volunteer informed me that the lot was full and that I could park at their auxiliary space on Maple... There were a couple of parking garages on that street and I could not tell which was theirs, so I chose one and forked over the $3...
When I hit the sidewalk, I was nearly bowled over by the stench of urine that permeated the street... I held my breath and hurried along, clutching my notepad and my mug of coffee... I saw another woman who clearly was there for the volunteer orientation rushing ahead of me... She wore some nice but frivolous sandals, totally unsuited for walking on these mean streets... And she also had her stainless steel commuter cup in hand...
I asked her brightly as we entered the courtyard of the Mission if she was there for the Thanksgiving event... She patiently said, "Whatever they need"... The lines of people from the photo no longer circled the building, but the courtyard was full of men waiting patiently for whatever services the Mission had to offer them that day... We entered the lobby of the building after being directed by a man at the door to one of the chapels for the orientation...
I did not know that the Mission provides a program for those suffering from poverty and homelessness due to addiction and abusive environments... A "graduate" of the program was giving a testimony in the chapel to the audience of hopeful volunteers and guests who were to take tours of the facility... A second man described the Mission as "a place of refuge, a place where the storm stopped"...
If the Mission helped stop the storm for some of these people, it only stirs it up for the armchair activist... Those of us who had eagerly called, emailed or shown up that morning to sign on to serve Thanksgiving dinner to the homeless with the likes of Mayor Villaraigosa and Hollywood celebrities were quickly put in our place...
"Think of the guy who comes in here when the papparazzi is gone," chided the woman giving the orientation, good-naturedly but firmly... "You can come back in January because no one will be here to help"...
The Mission was full to capacity of volunteers for the Thanksgiving event... It didn't matter that I had signed up online earlier that week... I realized that we not only have a problem with poverty and homelessness in our city... We also have the issue of too many people who try to help when it "counts," that is, when other people can see it...
Living in a city like Lost Angeles, particularly on the Westside, one is exhorted to care 24/7, and to sign up for every cause du jour... Not that I'm opposed to any of doing good in general, but it seems that some people jump on the bandwagon to help certain populations on certain occasions because it's the holidays and it's "the right thing to do"...
I wonder if my own motives are so pure... I wanted to volunteer for Thanksgiving because I thought it would give my stories of soup and comfort more relevance... "So this girl drives around eating soup and eavesdropping on conversations, so what?"... I wanted to give readers a real picture of what it's like not to be able to walk into a restaurant and order soup or anything else for that matter...
Everyone I know bemoans the current economic situation... We are all having to pull our belts tighter and I realize that for each person, it's all relative to what they are used to... But very few of us, at least in my acquaintance, have ever had literally zero... No stainless steel coffee cups, no hot coffee, no coffee maker in the kitchen...No kitchen, period...
The last tour group was escorted out and I left after turning in my application and deciding to see if I could get registered for the December 24 event... I realize halfway down the block that I forgot my coffee cup under my seat in the chapel and go back to get it...
As I leave the chapel again, I am told to watch my step and "God bless you," by a man, probably a resident in the program, who is mopping the tile in the lobby... I need to use the restroom before the long drive ahead and am directed to a facility in the back of another chapel where three or four men was watching a biblical epic dubbed in Spanish...
As I try to duck my way out of the darkened "theatre," a couple of voices say "God bless you" in the dark as I pass... I try to smile an acknowledgment in the general direction of the voices since I can't see a thing...
I think about all the times that I nod or say "Hello" to people at work in the halls or passing on the street... There are times when I don't give that small acknowledgment of humanity and think that it doesn't matter...
This morning, while glimpsing the world of the Mission on a Saturday morning, on my way to other things, I am the one that is being helped. My metal cup is a symbol of need, like the kind used for begging... I suddenly see it as kind of a signal that I need to slow down and drink a cup of coffee like a civilized person once in a while, at a table... If I am very lucky, it will be in good company... And I'm being reminded that my ill-perceived lack of time is no excuse for a lack of civility, of appreciating my fellow man or woman...
I am being reminded that yes, it does matter.
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