Rodrigo Haro
I enjoyed San Francisco. I lived in a shelter. I lived in a hostel the first time, went to visit Santa Monica, then came back. I did not have money the first time after my escape from Chicago, Illinois. I spent three days roaming around the city without sleep. I then got my check from my bank (I had money, but they were holding it). I of course gave my money to the rich and became poor. I got my money back, after Santa Monica and a plane from Los Angeles, and went back to San Francisco. I lived in a shelter (I was grateful). I ran out of money. The shelter was violent. The guards abused women. I stayed there and was comfortable and grateful for my bed. I stayed in the shelter for about five months. I became a man in that shelter. I would go every day to the San Francisco Library and write. I wrote a whole novel in that shelter and the library called South Chicago. Before the shelter I was without a home for three days. I ran out of money. I tried to find a job. I was staying at a hostel (one of many or two) and went to apply for a job at a restaurant. On the way to check on my application and ask for an interview I saw a free circus. I stayed at the free circus. They had a young girl, a teenager, asking for donations. I knew I was running out of money. I was running low. I was getting money from grad school. I was doing school online. I stayed in two hostels after leaving a short trip for Los Angeles (on my second trip to San Francisco). I knew how to survive. I eventually moved out of the hostel and took my things out. Weird things happened at the hostel. I drank all the coffee I could get. It was hot. I would go down to the front desk and get a cup. It was also hot in the cafeteria. There was free breakfast. It was the best meal of the day. On certain days it was the only full meal. Although, I had money for meals or snacks. I enjoyed the breakfast and would run down. I went to an interview at a Michelin-starred restaurant. I asked for a stage. I did not have a knife set. I smoked before the interview. I had a joint of weed rolled up. I interviewed with the chef. They were all wearing blue jeans. They were also wearing white chef jackets. I thought it was laid back. The chef told me “Sorry,” and I left. Before leaving, I asked if I could borrow a knife. I left for the bus stop and smoked. I was nervous. I could not get or catch the bus. I put the joint away and the bus came. I got on the bus. Before the interview, I had trouble paying for a bill at a diner. The diner was next to the hostel. I wanted pancakes although that day I ate the free breakfast at the hostel. Maybe I was greedy or hungry. I could not pay. I did not check my bank account before sitting down and eating. I ate, finished my plate, and swiped my card. The waitress told me that my card was going through. I told the waitress to wait while I sat by the counter. I texted my brother (and even called my mom, in Chicago, who I had not spoken to in a while) and asked for money. Eventually, I paid the bill and headed for the interview. I was staying at a hostel, the second one (after coming back from Los Angeles/Santa Monica) on my second trip. Before I was staying at a hostel across the street from the Hilton. I got off the plane at San Francisco (after Los Angeles Airport) and headed to the hostel. It was welcoming. I stayed alone in a shared room with a bedroom and three beds in it. The room was empty, and I was expecting a roommate or another traveler.
I stayed in the hostel for about five days. I was not taking care of my money. I spent more than I made. I stood in front of the hostel with my bags. I did not want to leave. I knew I was going to have a tough time. I knew I should have saved. I gathered my things and walked. I stored my bags in storage with a name tag. I gathered them about three days later when I got a refund from my bank. I came back three days later. I was safe outdoors. I asked for my bags (paid a storage fee) and walked to another hostel (another booking). I checked in. I was nervous about the new place. I checked- in and went upstairs. I did not want to leave anyone behind. I wanted to say hi to people. I remember there was a girl working on her bike day and night for a couple of days. She was by the window. I tried to say hi. It seemed her bike was special to her. I went up and down trying to calm my mind. I knew I was there to stay for a bit. I met a roommate. He was Argentinean. He had a beard. He offered me a joint, and a cigarette. I went outside to smoke with him. I had met two other Argentine citizens (girls) in my other hostel. I hung out with them. We saw the Air and Water show. We walked back. I thought, were they related? The roommate was on edge and smoked cigarettes. He laid down to sleep. There was another roommate who took a trip to Lake Tahoe early one morning. I wish he had eaten his breakfast. There were two other roommates who were workers on a vacation. They were Indian. They left back to their hometown (close to a college campus) after a couple of days. One of the roommates gave me advice and asked me, “What are you going to do? You should stay in the hostel.” After I told him I was going to leave the hostel and did not have anywhere to stay. It was asked advice: “What should I do?” He told me to stay in the hostel. I did not have a plan. Like many others in San Francisco, I had run out of money. I had met other people in the hostel. I met workers, travelers, and families. I talked to them and sought them out. Eventually, I got comfortable in the hostel. I bought orange juice and kept it in the shared refrigerator. I eventually left the hostel. I gathered my things, I left one thing in the storage room, and headed out. I had booked a trip to Mexico City without a passport and did not get a refund. I left and said thank you. I spent a couple of days on the road. I was safe. I rode the buses at night. I could not sleep. I ate at the Civic Center where they handed out free lunches. I also ate at another free kitchen or church called the Glide. I eventually asked the city workers at the Civic Center if I could apply for a bed in a shelter. I took a shower at a showering station. They said yes. I arrived at the shelter through a ride van. I registered, talked to a social worker, and signed the papers. I placed my things in the bed. I stayed for more than six months. I waited until I got my other refund check. The shelter had a library. I read there and wrote. I wrote my heart out (like a great writer once said). I wrote the novel South Chicago and submitted short stories from the shelter. I stayed there, said grace, and ate breakfast every day. The breakfast was the best. I spend Thanksgiving there and Christmas. I had a Christmas card from a local elementary school student with a quote from the Holy Bible and I ate a full Thanksgiving dinner (with turkey and stuffing) that day. I started volunteering at a local organization called St. Anthony’s and volunteered at their soup kitchen. I wiped tables, cut vegetables (did prep), and served food. I wanted to work. It was a labor of love. I kept myself busy passing my classes and volunteering. I kept writing, praying, and reading. I had a place to shower, a place to eat, and a place to rest. They even gave me clothes. I spent my evenings and Saturdays there. I eventually moved out. I said thanks and got on a bus. Through school I received my Spring refund check from financial aid. I even called my mom when I checked into the hostel. I survived. Through the hostel I met a friend who offered me a job. I survived. I went outdoors. I was renting a full-sized room. I met other families there. I eventually got the job and moved out to Oakland. I kept working while renting an apartment from a friend I had met. It was a loft room. I kept going to the airport to work. I moved back to San Francisco to rent another room. I eventually left that room. I said thank you. I moved into another hostel near Chinatown.
The hostel was named the Green Turtle. I stayed there for almost a month. I reserved the room then checked in in the early evening. I checked in and took my bags up the stairs. The hostel is big. There are three flights of stairs. I took my things up. I looked at the carpeted stairs. I noticed the second floor. It was to my right. I took a left and went up to my room. It was a six-bed room, with three bunk beds. I put my things under my bed. I did not know where to go. I went back down. I looked around the first-floor room. I saw the big living room and eating room. I saw tables and couches and a stage. I took a right and saw the big kitchen with shared refrigerators, stoves, and garbage cans for recycling (blue), compost (green), and garbage (black). I did not know where to go. I sat down at one of the tables. I looked around. There were people drinking beer in the center table. I had one beer in my bag. I asked for the bottle opener. (Later on in my stay I noticed attached bottle openers hanging from the bottom-center of every table). I sat back down at my small table and drank my beer. I walked into the center of the room and grabbed their stuff. I felt intrusive. I drank my beer. I then went up. I saw another traveler eating his food. I missed work that day. I had drunk the night before. I went back up and typed on my computer. I stayed up there for a bit. Another girl came up and kept her jacket on in bed. She said hi in the morning. The night before on my first night there I recognized a girl I had met on the BART train. It was her. I said hi and asked her name. She said Norma. I had offered to hang out with her. “I live in Oakland by the Fruitvale station,” I said. We got to the Fruitvale station, and I did not take a step. I saw her waiting for me to walk. The doors closed and we rode to downtown San Francisco. She got off at a stop with me. I stood by her side. She was on her phone. She took a car. She slammed the door and said bye. We had agreed that we would meet the next day for a date. We were not thinking about that day. I went to work the next day. I then saw her sitting there at the Green Turtle. I know we knew each other. She stayed loyal. She gave me food when I was late for breakfast. She gave me bagels when she was putting them away and eggs to cook. I stayed loyal as well. I was glad I met her. I kept going to work early in the morning. I used to get up before sunrise and walk to the train station. I used to take the airport train around the airport to cargo. At times I was late with payment and had to store my bags in the storage room only to get them after work. I left with grace. I paid off my debt. I then checked into another hostel. I paid off my debt by selling back a gold ring I had. I then moved into a single bed in a hotel in the Mission District. I was ashamed to be living alone. I wanted to see the neighborhood. I then moved to a new hostel near downtown. I enjoyed eating at the Mission District. The taqueria next to my hotel was the best. I enjoyed the San Francisco burritos. The food was the best Mexican food on the planet. I also stayed near bars.
I enjoyed the Mission District. I went back and forth three times. I eventually moved out of The Mission District and moved into another hostel. I stayed there for a week. I booked another reservation at a hostel close by, the Rock and Roll Hostel. I stayed there for a week. I kept going to work. The Rock and Roll hostel is the best hostel I have ever lived in. I met another teacher, a math teacher, who told me that he had gone to school while teaching and got paid. He also had a child. I met a traveler from Taiwan. He was an engineer. He showed me some Artificial Intelligence that his company was working on. It was virtual reality. It was animated and used a headset to give off an image of activities. It was close to a video game. I used it in our small hotel room and played virtual reality guitar. I then took it off and drank more beer. He eventually left the next day. That was the best day of our stay.