This will be a long one, and I will start with my recent visit to the ODS.
When I was there last time, someone who shopped for dinner ingredients bought a jar of spread instead of real butter, and the moment I learned about it, I realized that Chicken Alfredo wouldn’t turn out as it should. Another, and more serious thing, was that when I came, all the residents were gone, since it was one of the first nice days! I do not think that was planned; it’s just that J., who had been my kitchen helper for many months, was gone, and she was the one who had asked for Chicken Alfredo. I knew that if she were still around, she would’ve stayed to wait for me, probably with a couple of her friends.
I left the dinner for the staff (they said that when the kids are back, they’ll eat everything), and, for the hundredth time, thought about whether it is worth coming so irregularly. Then N., a staff member who really cares about me, texted me asking when I was coming next time.
This next time was last Tuesday. Several days earlier, I asked her if she would mind asking the residents what they wanted, but I already knew that she wanted my baked salmon, and I knew I would end up making it. I also promised I would bring a Finnish berry pie (I promised to bake it there in May, but since there was nobody and no butter, I didn’t.)
Then, on Tuesday morning, I fell off the bike and hurt my hand. There was absolutely no way for me to cancel, but I texted N. and told her I would need help cutting and peeling potatoes. When I arrived, another volunteer had organized two kids to peel potatoes and actually taught them how to do it right (it was day one of my injury, and I couldn’t even demonstrate the techniques). With that, it could be an amazing experience, because the kids actually figured that out, and three people ended up peeling enough potatoes (just a little bit less than I would do if I weren’t incapacitated). Unfortunately, it was almost for nothing, because there was not a single drop of milk in either the kitchen fridge or the big storage fridge, and I only found it out when all the potatoes were cooked and mashed. It didn’t even occur to me to check, because milk was on the shopping list, and because we made mashed potatoes so many times that it was not even a question that someone wouldn’t know. Besides, milk has always been in the kitchen fridge, just because it has to be.
One of the staff members said they would go to the nearest Jewel-Osco to get some milk. It would be great if I could figure out the absence of milk right away, but … unfortunately, that was not the only problem. Instead of our usual half-fish “never frozen” salmon from ALDI, there was a large bag of frozen portions. When I opened the bag, I saw that they were indeed frozen and that individual pieces were of very different quality. I tried my best to make something with what I had, but when we took the salmon out of the oven, it was absolutely not what we expected. Well, it was edible, and that’s all I can say. The trip to Jewel Osco took 30 minutes, and I was even able to reheat mashed potatoes with milk, but once again, there was spread instead of butter.
I didn’t even announce that the dinner was ready because the results were miserable. I left my berry pie for everyone to eat, and went home. N. texted me several times the next day asking about my hand, so I gave her the full report, but I also knew it was not just about my hand. I knew she felt bad about the mix-up and was afraid I wouldn’t come again. I could have said that the ODS staff should have paid more attention to the shopping list, and I probably could even feel hurt, if not for one thing.
The thing was, while N and I were texting that morning, she accidentally replied to me with something she meant for someone else, and because of that, I knew there were some problems at the ODS that day. When I arrived, I still could tell that “something was going on.” All the staff waved off my concerns, but I could tell that dinner was definitely not their top priority that day. And that day was not an exception.
The ODS staff solved bigger problems every day, with more and more uncertainties coming up every day. And in general, homelessness in Chicago rises at an alarming rate, with fewer people trying to solve it.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw a man hiding in our recycling bin (he made an effort to hide when he saw me approaching, and I pretended I didn’t see him). Afterward, however, I saw him, and it was visible that he had just gotten out of the dumpster by the way he was brushing himself. His shoes were bright red and very memorable, which is why I noticed him around Jarvis Square several times. Then, I saw him sleeping under the overpass on one of my early morning bike rides (once again, because I noticed these shoes sticking out of the black cover). That was one of those moments when you feel incredibly guilty for having any problems at all, or worrying about anything at all, while one of your neighbors has no place to sleep. I thought that the next time I saw him, I would ask if I could help him in any way (he was not asking passersby for change), but I stopped seeing him immediately after that.
There are more and more homeless people around. The encampments along the lake are growing. At the same time, I see many businesses taking measures to keep the homeless away. Not only businesses, for that matter. For example, the so-often-mentioned lack of public restrooms is also rooted in the same issues. Recently, I stepped into the Target on State, which used to be one of the guaranteed places with public restrooms. I saw they were doing major remodeling, and when I walked to the bathrooms, I noticed the access code panel had been freshly installed. And do not take me wrong, I understand that the number of homeless people using these bathrooms for pretty much anything was alarming, and I understand that Target must have heard numerous customers’ complaints. I understand why so many people want “all this mess” to be out of sight – out of mind, but the problem does not disappear because of all these measures. I saw people sleeping on Michigan Avenue. I saw people sleeping in the grass, not even in the tents, along the lakefront. It does not look pretty. But how it looks is not the root cause of the problem.
Hettie's Reflections 