Bringing the homeless in from the cold

Published on Thursday 9 December 2010 10:24

SITTING on a plastic chair at a fold-up table, his hands stretched out before him, red with cold, Steven Pupkis stares ahead deep in thought.

"What's it like to be homeless?" the 42-year-old says, his eyes darting to the floor. "You'll have heard of people being miserable with their lives? Well... let me think how I can describe this to you.

"Actually, you know, I'm not sure I can describe in words how it feels to be homeless - it's not nice."

Slumped in a padded jacket, a hooded sweatshirt poking out from underneath, Steven is among the final minibus-load of homeless people to have been ferried from the city centre to the Edinburgh City Mission, on Pilrig Street, for the night.

The time is around 10pm and he is freezing after a day on the streets of the Capital in sub-zero temperatures.

Around him, more than 20 people are tucking into hot meals prepared by volunteers, some wolfing down a portion of piping hot shepherd's pie, others a slice or two of home-made pizza, all glad to finally be given some respite from the snow.

Helping themselves to countless cups of tea, as well as the odd festive mince pie, they eventually begin to set up a bed for themselves on the floor using the two camping mats and two woollen blankets supplied for every person.

It's not the first time Peebles-raised Steven has been at the City Mission. Having lived on the streets of Edinburgh on and off for the past ten years, he's quite familiar with the routine.

As long as he is at Waverley Bridge for around 9pm, he knows he will be able to get a cup of soup and a roll from the care van, run by Bethany Christian Trust, that travels the city every night all year round to offer help to the homeless.

Shortly after that, he knows that during the winter months, another team from the Bonnington Road-based trust will arrive to take him, and others in need, to a place of safety for the night, usually a church or community hall. He admits that tonight, as the ice hardens on the city's streets, that without the service he could easily die.

Smiling, he talks of a former life when he had a job in the textile industry, an allotment plot in the city where he grew prize-winning leeks and a network of friends.

There is no hiding the smell of alcohol on his breath - it is what he calls his "demon" - as he cites a dysfunctional upbringing, the death of a close friend and a reliance on drink as the factors behind his life spiralling out of control and him ending up on the streets and also in prison.

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself though," he says. "I'm done with all that. But my problem now is, because I don't have a home address, I cannot get a job. It's like a spiral."

As he heads to the kitchen counter to collect a plate of food, Jim Ure, a volunteer from Currie Kirk, is finishing his tea-serving duties.

Tonight it is his church that has offered to help out at the winter Care Shelter, the official title of the Bethany Christian Trust overnight provision that has been running for 17 years.

Around 80 churches are on the trust's books, working every night either in the care van as it does its rounds of the city, or in the winter shelters from November to April when the Capital's homeless need them most.

"A lot of people have the wrong perception of homeless people," Jim says. "Yes, there are beggars on the streets of the city whom we know are not legitimate, but tonight, these people here would not sleep out like this if they didn't have to.

"I have come across a doctor here before. Things can often just happen in people's lives, usually involving alcohol, and they end up homeless. It could happen to anyone - it really could.

"The way I look at my involvement in this is that I believe there is more to going to church on a Sunday to sing hymns. This is what it is all actually about."

Except for two women, the homeless people milling around the hall of the City Mission are men, ranging from their mid-20s through to their 60s.

One man, already neatly tucked into his dark grey blanket has his head propped up against a radiator, a crisp Tom Clancy library book clasped in his hands.

Mark Rintoul, Care Shelter manager for the past 13 years, explains there are always more men than women and that nearly half of the homeless people he deals with in Edinburgh are from Poland - the remaining half are either from the city, its surrounding towns, or elsewhere in Britain.

The voices of the Poles he talks of can be heard laughing and joking in the background, some are young, others much older. One is clearly drunk and is later asked to "calm down" by Mark, yet the rest seem sober and in good spirits.

It begs the question - how can this be better than the life they left behind in Poland?

"I'm really not sure," says Mark. "One guy did tell me once that the Polish culture is very masculine and if you leave, it is like you have betrayed the country."

Perhaps to admit failure and return home is not an option for many of the men who have, for whatever reason, ended up sleeping rough on the streets of Edinburgh this winter.

"It's something we are working with the Polish Consulate about, to try to help them get back. There are many complex reasons for people ending up homeless. For some people it is a lifestyle choice, for others, they have perhaps been excluded from other services, possibly for their behaviour or because they have challenging needs hostels often cannot cope with.

"A lot of the Eastern Europeans do not have access to benefits either. Our aim is to offer a safe environment to sleep in and some food. During the winter we know we are saving lives.

"Becoming homeless could happen to anyone. We have had ex-social workers and ex-police officers end up here - people in society who would have been considered comfortable wage-wise, yet something happens and things go wrong for them."

Reaching 11pm, the lights in the City Mission are dimmed as people begin to take to their makeshift beds for the night.

Some have been asleep for the last hour, many are already snoring, clearly unable to fight their need for sleep or warmth.

"My dream would be to get back working again," admits Steven. "To get a job and a flat. I know I need to stop drinking though.

"Pardon my language, but I really need someone to give me a kick up the arse, to stick a finger in my eye, to make me see what I am missing."

HOW TO HELP

FOR more information on how you can support the work of Bethany Christian Trust in Edinburgh, visit www.bethanychristiantrust.com or call 0131-467 3030.

Ways to get involved include donating clothing, blankets, socks and jackets, all of which will be handed on to homeless people across the city.

Non-perishable food items - used to prepare meals for people staying in hostels - are always in demand too.

Household items, including furniture and unwanted Christmas presents, can also be donated to help generate income for the trust.

This Christmas, why not order a "Caring Christmas Tree", helping to provide a hot dinner, bed for the night and support to rough sleepers in the city (www.caringchristmastrees.com).

Christmas gifts, such as a meal for a homeless person, and financial donations can also be made by visiting the trust's website.