Visiting neighbbors

Monday evening I visited some neighbors in Oakley I’ve gotten to know.  I guess you could call them neighbors.  They don’t have a house.  They live in a make-shift tent by the railroad tracks, three or four blocks from the church.  It wasn’t my first time back there.  I’d visited them last fall also.  Last community meal they came for some food and invited me to come back and hang out again some time.  As I walked back over the tracks I was surprised how much the shrubs had grown since I’d last been there.  Their tent is on the opposite side of the tracks, behind a pile of old railroad ties, well hidden.  I didn’t want to startle them so I called out that I was there was asked if it was OK to come around the ties and bushes.  They said to come on ahead.  I wasn’t the only visitor.  Another woman was sitting and talking with them.  It had been her first day back to work after getting cataract surgery and she had come by to talk to some friends about the day.  They welcomed me and offered me a chair.  She seemed glad to have another listener and kept on talking.  It had rained most of the day and things were pretty wet.  “How’s that tent holding up?  Are you staying dry in there?”  “Yeah man, it’s great.  Nice and cozy.  The rain is nice, puts me to sleep.”  “So how are you guys doing?  You’re pretty much out of sight back here.”  “We’re doing real good.  It’s nice and quiet back here.  Just us and the animals – birds and a few chipmunks.  We feed them food scraps.”  They get rather animated talking about their animals.  I ask them, in a way I hope is non-threatening, whether or not the police know they are back here.  They do.  The police don’t give them any problems.  They haven’t had many problems with people coming to cause any trouble either, stealing their stuff or picking a fight.  It’s pretty quiet and secluded.  Except for the trains.  They get most of their income from walking the streets collecting aluminum cans and then recycling them.  She also does some house cleaning.  Neither of them have picture IDs (or, of course, an address), so their options for work are rather slim.  I stayed for 45 minutes or so.  They were in good spirits and mentioned multiple times how nice it was that I visited.  They talked about their life being hard, but I got the feeling they mostly like what they’re doing.  It was just starting to get dark as I left and as I looked down the tracks I could see a train light approaching from the distance.   

A number of years ago I think I would have felt the need to either pity these neighbors or make them noble in my mind.  Neither of these reactions feel necessary now.  It is what it is – a life that most people would never want to live but one that they, for the time being, are trying to make work.  What feels most important is having a relationship with them and keeping in touch.