Academy Awards

The whole country was watching the Academy Awards last night (with the exception of myself, as we don't have cable...) and was able to see the wonderful talent that is brought to the city of Los Angeles. For many actors, directors, producers and writers an Oscar is a life goal and a career goal; it is an honor to have achieved it.

In living here, I was able to see the Oscars from a different angle. First last week, I was able to see them setting up the red curtains at the Hollywood/Highland mall. Little do many people know that the Kodak Theater is actually inside of a very nice shopping center on Hollywood Boulevard.

For me, the Oscars affected me in a unique way. On our way to West Hollywood to do outreach last Thursday, my boss and I noticed police who had pulled some people over about a block away from where the Oscars would take place. We decided to investigate, and saw that they were writing tickets for two homeless people who had been loitering by the Starbucks. We were able to talk to the two individuals, and they actually decided to come in to our shelter and stay with us. As we were driving them to the shelter, one of the homeless individuals remarked, "The police are tightening down on this area this week because of the Academy Awards." Indeed, many of the police were attempting to move homeless persons away from where the Academy Awards were held. And I suppose for good reason; when the press comes in and there is such a high profile event going on in the area, who wouldn't want it to look extra nice?

Yet this moving of a people group out of a certain area, even for a week, does not give the casual observer a clear picture of what Hollywood is really like. For the stars and their guests who pose for cameras on the red carpet, they get to come to the Hollywood/Highland mall after it has been transformed into a red-curtained palace. If they had returned even a day after all of the decor was taken down, they would see Hollywood Boulevard as it truly is: tourists mixing in with persons working on the Boulevard, the occasional famous person (maybe), and many homeless people, some of who have been homeless on the Boulevard for several years. It is these homeless people I hope we will remember and give face to in the coming months. Some will choose to come with us into shelter. Others will stay on the street and continue using their drug/drink of choice. I hope that we will be able to grant them one of the core human rights: dignity. Dignity in noticing them, in saying hello, in making eye contact, in offering them a lunch and a warm bed.

Star Sighting

Some of you know that our mailing address is not at the house because there were issues before with people going through the mail. This past Thursday, I ventured over to Hollywood Presbyterian Church to pick up our mail and happened to run into... Louis Zamperini. He is an Olympian from the 1936 Olympics, he shook hands with Hitler over his finish there. He was also a prisoner of war in Japan and upon returning to the United States became a Christian at a Billy Graham crusade. He then traveled back to Japan to come face to face with the person who tortured him as a POW. He told this person that he forgave him. Louis also ran with the torch in the Nagano Olympics in Japan. He told me that he is 91 years of age.

I feel that I have met a "star" that is worthy of his stardom. I can not believe the stories that Louis was telling me. In this city that prizes itself on appearances, this man lives with integrity and faith. I cannot imagine going back to Japan... the next time I decide to hold a grudge against someone I will think on Louis' life and the amazing work that he has done.

Commuters, Unite!

For those of you who knew me in Seattle, you'll remember that when I worked at the UW I loved to be a bike commuter. I loved to ride along the Burke Gliman Trail and watching the water as I rode.

Fast forward to Hollywood, CA. Any water near me is 45 minutes away in Santa Monica, a strange distance after living in Seattle. Before Christmas I had been mainly walking to my job, a 30 minute walk. Our bikes are in the process of getting fixed, or at least we need to get them fixed, and so I decided that to take time off my walk I would bring my roller blades back from Michigan. On New Year's Eve I completed the first ever roller blade commute to my job. Just to give you all a visual: I was wearing my helmet, wrist guards and Colombia fleece- not exactly looking like a Los Angelain. And the commute went well, but I decided that there were too many bumps in the sidewalks to make using roller blades a regular occurance, if I value my life. Since then my roommates and I have joked about what a site I was and how un-Hollywood and strange I must have looked.

However, two days ago, as I was walking home from work again, I saw it: a girl riding towards me on roller blades! Now, she did not have the nerdy one size fits all roller blades, hers actually looked pretty expensive, and she wasn't wearing a helmet or anything, but seeing this girl proved to me that there are people here who roller blade to work! And that thought makes me smile. I'm not the only one...

The Little Children

Last week on Ash Wednesday, our supporting church, Hollywood Presbyterian, had a nighttime service. We normally have tutoring time on Wednesday nights, but we decided beforehand that we would invite kids from the neighborhood to the service instead of having tutoring. We gathered kids into our cars and headed out to the service. Our next door neighbor came, as well as a high schooler and her 5 year old brother from down the street. Also attending was our friend Angel, a 5-year-old whom the 4 of us love dearly.

As we went into the service, we had to break into two groups, one sitting in front of the other. Angel was sitting on Jen's lap and asking her lots of questions, like, "Is this where Jesus lives?" He ended up falling asleep during the sermon and was snoring. Our next door neighbor actually fell asleep as well. I looked back at the pew behind me and saw Angel asleep on Jen's lap, Odalys drifting to sleep, and my other roommate Shelton getting heavy eyelids. (In all of our defense- it was a very early morning and in general we were pretty tuckered out!) I thought to myself, "Oh, no, they're dropping like flies. We're not going to make it through the whole service!"

Well, we made it through the whole service, to the part where we went up to take communion and have ashes put on our foreheads. The girl sitting next to me looked over at me and asked, "Is it okay if we go up, too?" "Of course!" I replied, "Everyone is welcome." And as I sat there, pondering the wonder of communion and of Christ's love for us, I almost cried out of joy. God does not care which neighborhood these children came from, He loves them. I saw God's love so clearly as I watched our kids walk up to the front to receive communion. No matter what state we entered the sanctuary in, God received us that day as we received Him. God didn't care that some of us fell asleep or even snored through the sermon- He welcomed the little children to Him on that night. This is by far one of my most favorite memories with the kids this year.

Ash Wednesday

Last week was Ash Wednesday, and my roommates and I went to a Catholic Cathedral downtown for their 7:00 service before going to work. At the very end of the service, we had ashes placed on our foreheads in the shape of the cross.

I was unprepared for the reactions of people I came into contact with throughout the rest of the day. At the homeless shelter I work at, one of the clients thought that I had been marked by Charlie Manson. As I was driving around with my partner, Soraya, who had also gone to the service with us, the clients we talked to kept looking at our foreheads. We actually brought a client into the shelter on Ash Wednesday and he asked us if we had been marked as Satanists. One resident at the shelter assumed that I was Catholic because I had the ashes on my forehead. Soraya and I took a bathroom break at Trader Joe's, and as we were leaving a person at the checkout started talking to us in Spanish, asking if we had gone to mass. Soraya replied that we had, and he smiled at us.

Throughout the whole day, I did not see one other person with the ashes on their forehead, with the exception of my partner Soraya. I went to the post office after work and the clerk selling me stamps said, "Do you know, you're the first person I've seen all day with ashes? You'd think I would have seen someone by now."

For me, the ashes were not meant to be a way to publicly proclaim my faith in this city, they were to remind me of my brokenness without Christ and my need for Him. And yet, the ashes were a witness to my faith in this busy city. What a reminder that God uses the little things to speak to His greatness.

The Internet has Arrived

I think the title explains all... but in case you didn't get it- you can now e-mail me and I will e-mail you back before a week is over (or at least try to!) Yes, my friends, we now have internet at our house, after all those months of waiting. What a joy.

I must say, though, that I think not having the internet for our first 6 months of living in LA was crucial to our ministry. Although it did make life a little harder, for example, not being able to mapquest things/looks up public transportation directions, I believe that we did not have the internet so the four of us could build our community up together. I am thankful for that time, and now thankful for the internet.