City of Angels, where the living go to die.

Deer in the Head lights

I recently went on a four day long, solo trip to Los Angeles. Me, being the 130 pound girl that I am, went with nothing to protect myself except an expired can of bear mace, because you know, its California. and if you guys were not aware, California recently legalized homelessness, and sleeping in your car, which was part of the appeal to me. You see, I went urban camping, in my 1989 Cadillac Hearse.

Now, I was unaware of how serious the homeless problem was going to be in LA. Coming from Phoenix, I've seen my fair share of tents pitched, but nothing could prepare me for what I would soon call life for the next half a week. Living on the streets is hard, I went four days without showering, but that is nothing to what these people face everyday. I witnessed people washing their clothes in broken fire hydrants. People sleeping on the beach, using an umbrella to build a home. There was a homeless person everywhere you looked in LA and Santa Monica.

Now let me explain something to you, this city is filled with angels. I was on the streets, and beaches, the entire time, and I never once felt unsafe or harassed by anyone. Surprisingly, with all these numbers, I did not witness any crime. I didn't see anyone haggling anyone, I didn't even get asked for a dollar. I actually did have to deal with the police, about once a day, because of obvious reasons, like "Ma'am you cant sleep here." (Which started to really annoy me, until one night I asked the officer where it was legal to park, and he told me the Walmart Parking lot. I found one, 2 miles away from the beach, and my urban camping really began.) And even the police officers there are angels. They let me off the hook for parking tickets, for sleeping in my car, and one night they even let me sleep where I was parked, right on the beach. I have witnessed the cesspool of humanity, I lived hand in hand with the homeless people in LA, and it was one of the most memorable times of my adult life. Although, If you want to know the hardest part about life with no home, it would be finding a place to pee every morning.

The civilians are out of this world too. Every body was so polite me, I actually felt like the rude one! They were holding doors for me, Getting out of my way while I biked, staying out of my way while they biked. I don't know if it is that fresh ocean air in their lungs , but they have so much more patience and understanding in California than Arizona.

And why go to LA one might ask, well the famous cemeteries of course! I spent all of my free time bouncing from beach to cemetery. The cemeteries were beautifully kept, all had locked gates, and had a high police presence, which is different than here in Phoenix, on account of the campers. I actually got kicked out of Westlawn Cemetery while taking the photo above. It was weird, not having the same freedoms that we have here, even as mourners.

It is very easy for me to see my time spent on the streets as a novelty, and the challenges of finding a place to pee as humorous. But for a countless amount of people, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, it is a grim reality that they have to face everyday. No novelty, they wake up in this situation everyday, not being able to go home at any moment. The people who live on the streets of Los Angeles are the Angels. Forgotten ghosts, who mean no harm to anyone.