My 1st Time in Crackland

Por Sandro Baggio

09 de abril de 2008

Friday night. I am in Crackland for the first time at night. Even though I have been coming here ever since we established a missionary community in the region three and a half years ago this is the first time I will go out with Matheus on a Friday night outreach. The team of young people (I'm the oldest among them) listen as Matheus gives the assignments: two girls who are volunteering for the first time will go with Bradley and Caetano to meet the street kids at Anhangabaú; Nigel will go with Mariana to visit with the transvestites and homosexuals in different "points" in the area; Alex and I will go with Matheus to Crackland. We pray and get read to go. We are told to leave all our belongs at the house and take only our ID cards with us. Wedding ring, cell phones, and wallets stay behind as we head towards the streets.

Even though the whole Garbage Mouth area (an area comprised of several blocks downtown São Paulo) is known as Crackland because of the heavy consumption of crack, there are some streets where the dealing and action actually takes place. These streets are our target tonight.

Before going to the dark corners where the dealings take place Matheus stops to tend the wounds of a 23 years-old guy called R. He is a junky who lives on the streets. His left foot is hurt and Matheus cleans the wound and apply some bandage to it. As he does that we talk to R. and his companion H., a 29 years-old pretty lady who is 8 months pregnant and also lives on the streets. They laugh as they talk about their difficulties living on the streets and their addiction to crack. They have no hope for the future. They live only for the next dose. R. says he wants to die. He says he lied down on the middle of the road but the cars would not run over him. H. says she wants help for her baby. She promises us that she will go to a rehab center soon. Matheus finished tending R.'s foot and we have to move. As we leave them we hope they are still alive when we come to that area again.

We walk another block, meet some other people, offer help, get different responses as some are a little more "sane" than others and then we turn a corner and I realize we are now in the middle of the action. Dozens of kids and young adults are dealing and smoking crack right before our eyes. As we approach them, some immediately try to sell us stones. But that is only until they see Matheus. As soon as they see him they know what we are here for. We tend some wounds again. Some are pretty ugly and I try not to look too much at them as I assist Alex and Matheus clean wounds and put bandages on them for several people. Most of the wounds are in the feet and legs. One girl had a bad cut in her hand. She said she held a knife as someone tried to stab her the other night. One of the kids says he has a wound we cannot mend and then points to his heart. We try to explain to him very briefly that Jesus can mend all his wounds, even the deepest ones. He just shrugs and we go to some others. We are surrounded by people now in a dark corner. I feel the sweat increasing on my forehead. Some look friendly, yet some don't look very happy that we are there in the middle of their dealing zone. One older lady approaches us. She says she is pregnant and need help. She is crying. She is disturbed. She seems to be also oppressed by some evil forces. When she notices that Matheus has an ID badge saying he is from Projeto 242, a Foursquare Church, she freaks out. She begins to scream: "I used to go to this church" (meaning the Foursquare Church)... "I used to sing in the worship team..." Then turns away from us and begins to say: "I saw you in my dreams two nights ago..." We try to talk to her but she walks away in panic.

In another street we meet a bunch of kids. Two girls and three boys are sitting in a dark place smoking crack. One of them has a wound (guess where?) in the left food. We get him away from the others. We talk to him. H. is a 16 years-old kid from Sorocaba. He is also a runaway from the law, having been convicted for armored robbery two years ago. He looks very sad and hopeless. He says he does not do drugs. We say he will use them soon if he continues in the streets. Matheus gives him his phone number in case H. would like a ride back to his home city.

We turn to another street and meet a transvestite sitting in the side walk alone. He looks to us with lustful eyes and smiles as we approach him. Alex asks his name. Solange, he says. Alex asks if he would like us to write down his name in our prayer list. He says yes and then gives us his real name. Another block and three people are sitting next to a pile of garbage. The stink of human waste is unbearable. Matheus knows one of them and to my desperation we stop by to chat with him. He says he hopes to get out of that life style some day. But not tonight. I feel sad that so many of the people we meet say they want to get out some day. But none of them want to get out now, today. I feel hopeless myself and say a silent prayer for these people as we walk away.

The streets look crowded to me but Matheus says tonight they are empty! We move on, meet some other people, tend some more wounds, and get some more names for our prayer list. We pass in front the brothel where every Friday at 3 pm we hold a service for the prostitutes and some other people in the area. An old prostitute named E. is sitting on a chair on the sidewalk appreciating the view of her neighborhood. She has been living in Crackland for over 25 years. She knows everyone around. We chat with her a little while as different people pass by, some picking up prostitutes, some dealing crack. E. has become one or our friends. We pray and hope she will become a follower of Jesus soon.

It’s late and we decide to head back to the house. We are the first team to arrive. I call Mara to let her know that I am OK. As the others arrive we share a piece of pie that Mariana cooked and drink some coffee. We are all very tired so there will be no debriefing tonight. As I head home I cannot help but think that Jesus was a friend of sinners. I want to become one as well.

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