Further thoughts on Crisis for Christmas

Happy New Year one and all – as I hope I’ve passed on messages to friends and family – I hope you find joy, peace and love in 2010, or if you already have these three fine things – the finest – then I hope you continue to enjoy these three elements of your lives.

I have had a lot of people asking me how the volunteering went, and after two or three attempts to summarise while incorporating all the relevant details, I found I needed to refine, re-engineer my response.  I had been describing the centre, the set-up, the role of the volunteers, the message, the building shape and form, and the jobs I undertook.  I didn’t really get the response I was hoping for; truth be told I didn’t really have a response anticipated in my head.

What I now say to people is that I was fortunate to meet a wide range of people who live under the radar of “normal” daily life in London (careful).

People, some of whom choose to be on the street, or out of home, and are perhaps too stubborn or proud to ask for help from friends or family.  People who see this as a short term problem, one that they are keen to work out themselves.  Certainly this was the case for Armad (sic) a Greek gentleman who believed in the power of positive thinking.  He was a Forex trader before the bank stopped his credit facility and he was unable to buy stock, and he then couldn’t pay his bills, then his home was eventually repossessed.  He lives in a doorway of a block of flats in Chelsea, and was visiting the centre to be somewhere warm, and have hot food and a drink. He talked about the psychology of being successful, rather than the learning of a particular trade or skill that one shouldn’t worry about money or else money will consume you. He gave me some papers to read.  Papers he himself reads daily, thus training his mind to be positive.  We chatted for about 3 hours, and I saw him on subsequent days, and he was always very polite and always smiling. Incredible really. He was grateful to me that I had taken the time to sit with him and chat.

I met Richard, a fragile pale skinned chap in his late 40s who sleeps in his car in Epsom, and had been given a lift up to Hammersmith by a friend so he could potentially find more suitable, longer term sleeping arrangements. He seemed to me like frightened man, and I tried to imagine what his world had been like before he was homeless, but it’s impossible because every guest is so different. Every situation is unique. I can only anticipate that he was dealing in his own way with his situation. That’s the only commonality: the situation.

I talked with Michael, a gentleman who initially was quite bitter about the Christmas effort of Crisis, how it’s a short term fix for a chronic long term problem, and I listened, and retorted, and our conversation evolved into the power of hope, and how will and intent and blind faith will see you right.  He talked about leaving UK and its problems and going to the New World.  I offered that perhaps the New World was a tad warmer than this place, and he seemed to like that! He quoted passages from the Bible, beautiful excerpts about the message from God.  He was interested in my view, and he took the time to listen to my thoughts on wide ranging subjects.  He struck me as a wise man, and I wondered why he was homeless.  He had a mobile phone and was chatting about plans for the following day with someone at the other end.  He went on the bus at the end of the first day, which was taking guests to the overnight centre in Becton.  He said he usually sleeps on the street, but a bed’s a bed. I didn’t see him again.  He acted like the world owed him, and the world had let him down, but I didn’t question why he felt that way.  Apart from the obvious predicament he was currently in, it wasn’t my place to question his feelings, only to listen and offer my response, in a non-aggressive way.

Richard and Michael were like chalk and cheese and I found myself wanting to keep them separate in conversation.  Richard was timid and Michael was bold, and there was no need to try to talk to them together.  I found myself wanting to protect Richard from Michael, and I took him down to the reception area to find out about lifts to other centres.  I was drawn to him, and felt I should do all I could to help, though honestly there wasn’t much I could do other than show willing.  He was grateful, and asked if I was going to be there the next day.  I wasn’t, and he seemed disappointed. I didn’t see him again either.

The point is I was fortunate to spend quality time, hours, with individuals each with their own story, their own challenges, their own journeys. It has completely changed my initial perception of the homeless people of London, and the desire to help in any way at all, for a few days over Christmas is really no big deal. I plan to do this again next year, and mot probably with the same Crisis group – Hammersmith Afternoons.  The reason for this is that I was also fortunate to meet an amazing and diverse group of individuals who were volunteers.