Walk their streets, breathe their air, see their sights...

Second time we went on our Neighborhood Outreach / Prayer Walk on Saturday. Last time, we ended up finding a location where this organization was handing out sleeping bags and clothes.  So were able to go meet, speak and pray with new friends.

This time was completely different!!  We tried to piggy-back with the same organization as last time and meet with some of the neighborhood friends. Turns out there was a police raid of the camp grounds there.  And contrary to our plans... the organization went a completely different route.  Keno and I ended up driving aimlessly for an hour, trying to catch up with them. 

Right when we were about to give up... we had one last hope to go back to where we went the first time.  We courageously went beyond our comfort zone... and decided to walk down to the creek.  To our surprise, under the bridge, we found several camps of "indigenous" people.  Not homeless.... the city government doesn't like to use that word.

These camps.... they're amazing.  They have sleeping bags, a campfire, cooking utensils, vegetables, lots of collectibles, blankets.  Some of them even had phones.  They were really self-sustaining.  When we approached them... they didn't shoo us away.  Keno and I were respectful and asked if we can come closer.  They truly welcomed the milk and cookies we brought... and they longed for more.  They longed for some warm clothes... blankets and "real food." 

Those images.  Those images of their homes and tents.... I still see it every time I close my eyes. 

Like Karen said... we shouldn't drive around to find these camp grounds.  We need to walk their streets, breathe their air, see their sights.  And try to understand first hand, what they go through on a first-person basis.  On Saturday, we took one step closer to crossing that cultural boundary.  Many... many more steps to go.