Part II Day 49: April 9, 2010 (lying about hunger, starvation by the numbers, and distinguishing between need and want)

Position: Conference Attendee

Number of Days Officially Unemployed: 84

I'm spending the week in Denver to attend a writers' conference, and my friend Jake and I find ourselves smoking cigarettes outside of an Irish pub on this Friday night. I don't normally smoke cigarettes, and I don't inhale, but we've had a few beers and I decide to join Jake for a smoke to keep him company.

We're standing here, appreciating what Steve Almond calls Denver's "fancy, barren downtown," when we're approached on the sidewalk by an overweight black woman showing no signs of inanition––exhaustion from lack of nourishment. She tells us she and her daughter, who is not present, haven't eaten in two days, and she asks if we can give her money for food. While her story is almost plausible, since, according to this ABC Channel 7 News report, 60 percent of the homeless in Denver are families with children, Jake and I say we don't have any money for her. She says she's pregnant, too, but then asks for a cigarette. Jake says no.

I ask her what kind of homeless shelters they have in Denver, and she says, "Not very good ones. They've got nothin' for women." I tell her I find that hard to believe, because many cities have shelters set up especially for women and children. She says that's not the case in Denver. But the truth is, even though the Denver metro area has a slightly higher estimated homeless population than San Diego––9,091 to our 7,892––they have several "soup kitchens," including Food Bank of the Rockies, Metro Food Bank, Rose of Sharon Food Bank, and Thornton Community Food Bank, and they have at least twenty-one homeless shelters or services, such as the Denver Rescue Mission, The Father Ed Judy House, and several that specifically serve women and children, such as The Gathering Place, The Family Tree, and The Women's Bean Project, all of which can be found on The Homeless Shelter Directory (who knew it existed?).

While I'm tempted to tell the woman an interesting fact about the human body––it can survive 4 to 8 weeks, and even up to 25 weeks considering her body fat, without food––I tell her I have Clif Bars in my backpack that I'd be happy to share with her. She refuses and walks off. I guess she is either caught up in the euphoria that can come through starvation or she wasn't all that hungry.

Jake says, "Man, you handled that well. She obviously wasn't looking for food." I tell him I've been volunteering at a homeless shelter and there are usually resources for the hungry in cities like Denver. I tell him about how the San Diego facility stresses independence, that you're not supposed to give residents smokes or money, that they have to earn it. And I tell Jake that I haven't seen many homeless people who look like they're actually starving.

I can't even find reliable statistics about any people starving in the U.S., though different sources peg it anywhere from 1-120 per year (you can find an interesting forum about the subject over at, oh, God, Fox News's Sean Hannity page––don't say I've never sighted a conservative source). Even worldwide starvation death statistics vary widely, because, according to World Hunger Notes, many deaths attributed to starvation are also counting undernutrition as the underlying cause in deaths from diarrhea, malaria, pneumonia, and measles. Which I guess they should. According to this United Nations report, entitled "The Right to Food," 826 million people suffer from malnutrition, the worst areas being Asia (24%) and sub-Saharan Africa (34%). "Most of the victims suffer from what the Food and Agricultural Organization calls 'extreme hunger', (sic) with an average daily intake of 300 calories less than the minimum quantity for survival."

The report doesn't define what the minimum number of calories are for survival, but during my own 4-day low calorie experiment I mentioned elsewhere in this blog, where I got down to around 700 calories per day, I experienced nausea, euphoria, and, according to my friends, I looked "gaunt." I had the privilege of stopping my experiment and eating whatever I wanted, so I can't imagine the feeling of continued, abject hunger and starvation. I know this: it's nothing to take lightly, and it's nothing to lie about. And the next time you're on the phone with the pizza guy, don't tell him you or your children are starving and need pizza, tell him you're a little hungry and want pizza. He'll understand. It'll be there soon.