Returning to good old Philly.

Philadelphia. It's like my second home, or the first. It's where I spent my young days, my middle school years, and where I made many friends. I don't remember too much of the days when my family lived down near Washington D.C. before we moved up to the Keystone State, and though I spent no more than four years up there out of a total of ten I spent in the U.S., Philly means more to me than any other place in the country.

Looking back at the days, it's where I grew up most while living overseas. It is where environmental studies caught on me, while simultaneously being drawn into participating in activities that do social good for the communities, locally or globally. I still clearly remember the days when I did volunteer work every other week with the Whosoever Gospel Mission, a homeless shelter in Germantown, helping the homeless to empower themselves and become independent, or helping fundraisers for the UNICEF and the Kobe earthquake. Come to think of it, how many middle schools in other parts of the country or in Japan have volunteering with the homeless as part of the curriculum? Maybe some in the U.S., but I've never seen nor heard of in Japan. Looking back now, it helps to make you feel that they're not too different from us, but maybe just born in socially handicapped families, and together with unfortunate circumstances and some mistakes, have become 'homeless'. Well, this leads to a different topic so I'll stop here...

I revisited Philly in March, as part of our 'graduation trip' I went along with five other friends at my university. In my words, Philly is like a countryside city of charm sleeping or rather 'hidden' between the economic powerhouse of New York and the capital Washington D.C. However, it's not any other mega city nor just a countryside city. Having been the first capital of the nation, the historic Old City area or the many cobblestone streets accompanied by well-preserved homes, churches, and various other monuments help to keep the rich history alive, while Center City has blossomed into a world-class downtown with towering skyscrapers, five-star restaurants, theaters, and galleries.

Philly is a city that has also given birth to a handful of favorite local foods that are now known throughout the country: cheesesteak, soft pretzel, and water ice. So I definitely made sure we didn't miss out on having a taste of those, especially the cheesesteak. Some say that "a proper cheesesteak consists of provolone or Cheez Whiz slathered on an Amoroso roll (definitely a must!) and stuffed with thinly shaved grilled meat", however, it's pretty much up to personal preference. Some like the rolls toasted and crispy (that's me), while others like them soft and chewy. Some would dip it in grease, while others would complain that too much grease makes the roll soggy (me). Some prefer the meat to be diced as thinly as possible (yup, me), while others prefer larger chunks. Some love the artificial Cheez Whiz (me too), while others prefer American or provolone cheese. Where to get the best? Again, up to you, but my favorite is Jim's Steaks. Although Pat's and Geno's both claim to be the first cheesesteak, Jim's produces better. Jim's has four shops, with the original one still located in West Philly, but the one that attracts most is the one down on South Street. It was 15 years ago when I went there the first time.

South Street is one of many shopping districts in the city. Offering an eclectic mix of over 300 mostly independently-owned shops, including diners to ice cream parlors, head shops to tattoo parlors, hip-hop clothing stores to jewelry shops, records stores to home and gift shops, and add to that lingerie and sex goods shops, South Street offers a unique selection of shopping opportunities; no wonder Jim's at South Streets gets a waiting line every weekend. Another shopping district I like, despite with a totally different atmosphere, is Chestnut Hill in Northwest Philly. The only business district in a largely residential area (big homes too), Germantown Avenue, with cobblestone and trolley tracks, is like the Main Street in a small old town with quaint storefronts, Victorian lampposts, and shoppers who stop to chat with one another. It has a modest selection of antique shops, upscale home goods shops and clothing shops, and several independent art galleries. It's a nice place to stroll on a weekend afternoon.

Oh boy, am I missing Philly. :)

A visit to Sanyukai.

Poverty. What does it mean?

Many say it's about not having enough money to make a living, while some others put it in a different way: they are people who have not only lost their money, but also their families and all their trustworthy social relationships, as well as self-esteem and pride. While a good portion of the general public in other countries still see Japan as the darling of economic prosperity, and even the typical Japanese are not too aware, the poor population has been slowly increasing over the years, and at a quicker pace more recently. Poverty does exist in Japan, and it does in Tokyo.

In April, I paid a visit to Sanyukai again, a non-profit organization (NPO) that runs a free clinic, provides temporary housing, clothes, and food for the homeless. Located in the heart of Sanya district, an area that has become synonymous with poverty and homelessness, the group has been carrying out outreaches to hand out clothes and food, and so-called 'clinic tickets' for those who seek medical consultation for over a decade. The clinic is totally free (one of only two free clinics in Japan for the homeless), but naturally, it's sometimes not easy for a person to come and drop by, but reaching out to them and giving them these 'invitations' not only encourages them to come but also "makes them feel easier" to do so, says one staff. Situated in the northeastern part of the huge bustling city, Sanya has been a home for many who work on a daily wage basis, taking advantage of its proximity with factories in the area and the abundance of rediculously-cheap hostels.

So what did I do? I participated in one of the outreaches they carry out on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Why? Because I like it. And this phrase means much more than it's said. I go to Shinjuku every day, and it's not too difficult to find a homeless there since nearby Shinjuku Central Park is home to a good number of them, so I have always felt that they are part of the picture I am in in some way. But what is there that I could do by myself? If I do have some leftover food I am not going to eat it, could I give it to them? But what would that do to their self-esteem? Do they really want that? After all, unlike in the U.S., begging is not common here. We belong to the same world, the same society, but there is something that is separating us. But through the outreach, I can be of some help and talk to the homeless without hesitating, and it really gives you the feeling that as if it not only opened the door for them but for yourself too. It's like this: they are near you but not as near as it seems, but you've finally found a way to step closer to them. Surprisingly, many seem to be happy even when we just say "hello, how's it going?". They've got lots of things they want to talk with you. That smile on their faces I don't forget.

What is poverty? What is homelessness? I've been thinking about this for a while, and ironically, Mr. Hiroshi Goto, one of the staff there, pointed out something that I had heard before two years ago from a staff working in a homeless shelter in San Francisco: we shouldn't really 'categorize' them as homeless, but as people who have had various difficulties in the past that led them to how they are now. And that's true. They have come different ways. The 'issue' for each of them is different from person to person. And in the U.S., add to that those who have willingly chosen to become homeless. But there are things they have in common too. They have no money, no shelter, nobody to rely on, and have been deprived of dignity and self-respect.

The number of people living under government aid, called the Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, has been increasing, and at a faster pace now with the slowing global economy. Back in 1992, that number was 585,972, but it reached 998,887 in 2004 and surpassed 1,000,000 in 2005, and as of March 2009, it stood at 1,168,306. Now, especially in these unsure times, it is not so difficult for a person to take a moment or two to think about poverty and take that as an issue that is not unrelated. With just a combination of some accidents, wrong-doings, or unfortunate consequences, anyone could find him/herself without a home. However, we must also keep in mind that the real homeless, the 'true' poor, have been deprived of all they could be, including friendships, families, and even their self-esteem. Whether that is the responsibility of the individual, or another, or the society, or more than one of those, varies from person to person. But we have to understand. And I think there is something we can do.

Sanyukai is not merely a group that gives out a hand to the homeless, but one that is helping the absolute poor and using several creative ways at different levels to help the homeless empower themselves and become self-dependent. The true poor are deprived of their family and friends, and it starts from re-building relationships or making new ones. Every day, Sanyukai puts seats and some tables in front of their compact three-story building, and it acts as a place of gathering for the homeless. Sipping a cup of green tea that Sanyukai serves, they come and tell about the meal they had the evening before or joke about the noisy neighbor cat that wouldn't let him go to sleep. It's a place for socializing and relaxing, and up to around 15 people can be seen on some days. Some stay for lunch and eat with the staff. Whether it's a staff or a visiting homeless, everyone eats the same food here. And many of them visit on a routine basis, some even every day, so it is also an effective way for the staff to see who didn't appear on a day and try to find out what happened.

Last month, Sanyukai was ordered by the metropolitan government to stop handing out its weekly free meals in one of the areas, after local residents filed a number of complaints saying the outreaches attracted more homeless and that "children are afraid" of them. One of the continuing challenges is how to have the local community understand their activities. There is a quote from a book by French writer and aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. "Men travel side by side for years, each locked in his own silence or exchanging words which carry little or no fright, until danger comes. Then they stand shoulder to shoulder. They discover that they belong to the same family."