1 post tagged “homeless street spirit berkeley picante”

Dining alone is an interesting experience.  Everyone should do it every now and then--intentionally--just to mix things up a bit.  Until you do, you never realize how much of the world you miss around you.  Having the chance to just soak up even the little things around you can make a world of difference in your outlook. Besides, you're kind of forced to entertain yourself and what better way to do that, than to watch other people. (hee hee)

It's Memorial Day weekend so no work on Monday (thank GAWD!!!).  As a result, my weekend's been consumed with cleaning, playing music, more cleaning, rummaging through junk, playing more music, doing laundry, etc. etc.  But, I can honestly say that this is the first weekend in a long, LONG while that I actually feel a little rested and I can also honestly say that I can't believe one person can accumulate so much crap! sigh...but I digress...

Suffering from a serious case of cabin fever, I decide to go out for dinner.  Picante on Sixth St. in Berkeley has been calling my name for the past week.  A quick 7 miles and 10 minutes later, there I am, standing in line of the cute little cocina mexicana place perusing the menu, scanning for anything that says carne asada (mmmm...).  I make my selection and await anxiously for my turn to order.  I grab my number, walk to the dining area and find a table.

Over the course of my meal, I learned a couple--although at first glance, seemingly unrelated--things:

First, I never realized how many families there are in Berkeley.  Let me rephrase...I never realized how many little kids there are in Berkeley.  Oh wait, let me refine that...how many families have 2-5 year olds in Berkeley.  They're *everywhere*!  I even counted the number of kids per table and came up with approximately 2.3 (see "entertain myself" comment above).  No joke.  Don't get me wrong, I *love* kids, but, man, that place was looking like a Wiggles concert in a Gymboree store.  The place is packed and the only two tables left are, of course, the ones that accommodate only two people and are sitting right next to the station where the cleanup folks dispose of unfinished enchiladas and taco crumbs that didn't quite make it and pile up all the dirty dishes to bring to the back...but that's ok. I'll just use my arm as a shield while I eat.  Besides, I'm too distracted at the 2.3 average that's now grown even within the last 5 minutes. But, seriously, I'm not complaining.  The point of the observation is that it was comforting to see families making an effort to be together, especially in this day and age where both parents are working and the weekends seem to be the only opportunities for good, ol' fashion quality time. Nice. :-)

I finish my meal and head out the door.  Which leads me to my second observation--it's amazing to me how drastic an environment can change simply by walking through a door.  On my way in earlier, a homeless man is standing outside of the restaurant.  Tattered clothes, worn shoes, etc.  Despite his situation, he quietly greets me with a rather pleasant disposition, holding up an old, worn issue of "Street Spirit" and asking if I could help him out on my way back out.  Let me pause for a moment...

Street Spirit's website (http://www.thestreetspirit.org/) describes it as this: 

"Street Spirit is a publication of the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC) that reports extensively on homelessness, poverty, economic inequality, welfare issues, human rights issues and the struggle for social justice. For the past 10 years, Street Spirit has been dedicated to empowering poor and homeless people and giving a voice to the voiceless, at a time when the voices of the poor are virtually locked out of the mainstream media." 

Basically, it's a newsletter for the homeless community. sold for $1. For years, I've always seen folks standing on the corner all over the Bay Area selling issues, but never once stopped and showed interest because I was distracted by my own "problems" while I rushed off to the next thing.  So back to Picante...

I'm walking out, and he's still there, holding up the same issue of Street Spirit, asking passersby if they'd like to buy his issue.  Yet again, my reflex is to politely rush by mumbling, "No thanks" and be on my way.  But tonight was different. He doesn't ask me again, but instead just smiles so I stop.  I ask for a copy, and hand him a dollar.  Embarrassed by the condition of his paper, he warns me that it's an old and worn one and asks if it's ok.  I say yes but then realize it's his only copy left.  So I tell him to keep it and the dollar so he'll still have something to sell. He thanks me sincerely and says, "I'll give you a fresh copy the next time I see you, I will, I really will!" I'm thinking to myself, "Sure, but at least it was nice to say,"and say ok anyway.

Moments later, as I'm walking down the street back toward my car, I hear him yelling, "Hey! Hey! Lady, hey! I got one for you! I got one for you!"  I turn and there he is, running/gimping down the street chasing after me with a fresh copy from a fresh batch that his supplier just gave him in one hand and a dooby in the other (hee hee). He catches up to me and says, out of breath, "I have one for you and wanted to make sure you got a fresh one, just like I promised. Here...(gasp gasp) you go (gasp gasp)." I don't think he had to do that, but he did. 

What ended up initially being a quick, quiet dinner just to get me out of the house turned into a realization that no matter who you are, taking time out for people can really mean a lot.  Whether you're a 3 year old from a seemingly well-to-do family playing with your burrito while your parents watch on, a homeless person who made a sale with just a humble smile, or a person being chased after in an effort to fulfill a simple promise---it ALL counts.

Ok, so it may see like I'm over-reacting to such simple, everyday events.  And no, I'm won't be buying *every* issue of Street Spirit offered to me and talking to every stranger I meet.  But it is a reminder to myself to make that effort to smile and look at someone even if to say, "No, thank you" regardless of what age, social background, etc. from which they come.  We're all the same so share the love, share the love... 

(Man, what'd they put in my sandwich?!?)