Winter on the streets of Scotland

Insight into health of homeless as battle with winter begins

Out of the darkness they come, filing through the church doors one by one, all silent, all weary, all marked by the day.

The first man in makes his way straight through the hall, not looking at the waiting tables or hot meal made for him, but collapsing immediately instead onto a mat on the floor.

You can see the chill on his face, in the tight clutch of his hands, as he curls up on a few inches of foam on the hard wood and pulls a blanket around himself.

He's completely exhausted. Too tired even to eat before he closes his eyes.

His shoes stay on, his jacket too. His one bag tucked tightly under his arms. When all you have is not very much, you keep what you do have very close to your side.

It's just gone 8pm and down the streets of the city the wind is picking up.

Christmas lights in the shape of shooting stars rattle from lampposts as leaves lie like mulch on the ground, clinging to the feet of those hurrying home and also to the soles of those who have no home to run to.

You’ve probably seen them, though are unlikely to have met them, hunched in doorways littered with damp cardboard, next to your coffee shop, outside the station or wrapped in blankets with empty cup in hand. Maybe you’ve slipped them a coin or two or walked on by.

But how many of us have ever stopped to ask them their name?

According to the United Nations Commission on Human Rights an estimated 100 million people -one-quarter of the world's population- live without shelter. Western Europe is believed to be at its highest level in 50 years, with homelessness rising to a crisis point not seen since the end of World War Two.

Of these rough sleepers, 80% will have a physical health need and 70% will suffer from a mental health problem (Office of National Statistics) making it the cause of some of the largest global health problems.

"You've got to acknowledge it. Let’s not pretend that there’s not a homeless issue in our cities," insists winter care shelter manager Norrie Webb.

“We offered 3,800 bed spaces to 385 individuals last winter and we’re readying ourselves for the cold snap again this year too.”

Norrie, 41, from the Bethany Christian Trust, has spent the last hour with his team of volunteers, laying down foam mats and blankets around the church hall while in the kitchen church members have been hard at work preparing as many hot meals as possible for the homeless guests they have been expecting.

Gorgie Parish is one of many churches in the city who will be opening their doors to the homeless and volunteering with Bethany to house and feed rough sleepers this winter – people like those who have entered the safety of the shelter tonight.

Quickly they file toward the church kitchen where volunteers have been dicing and baking for the last hour, their efforts finally rewarded by the appearance of the hungry.

Some are young. Most are old. All have eyes older than eyes should look.

Silently, politely, the homeless people of the city queue. Many greet the kitchen staff, those who have given their time and money to buy and prepare dinner for them.

“People come in off the street and they’re just relieved to be out of the cold,” says Norrie. “Last year we had people sitting down reading books, slippers on, because you know, these are real people.

“The city shouldn’t forget that. Just because you see someone on the street and you choose to ignore them, or throw ten pence in a cup, that doesn’t mean they’re not human beings.

“I think a lot of people enjoy coming here and enjoy interacting with the volunteers because as someone said to me last year, 'It’s nice to get your self-respect back for a short space of time, because I’ve been invisible all day’."

Just because you see someone on the street and you choose to ignore them, or throw ten pence in a cup, that doesn't mean they’re not human beings.

As the people of the streets line up to collect their meals, some smile, some even laugh. All say thank you. Many look as though they have been handed a plate of diamonds.

An elderly man, beard and hair flecked with silver, bows his head low in thanks to the lady that serves him, unable to meet her eyes. Another chatters happily, short burst of speech, before he looks down bashfully, apologetically. "I'm sorry," he says, “I’m rambling. It’s just you’re the only person who has spoken to me today.”

“People should remember that there are a lot of very intelligent people who come into the shelter,” says Norrie. “We’ve had school teachers, we’ve had film directors. I’ve had a lot of very talented and educated people who’ve just fallen on hard times.

“As they say, don’t judge a book by its cover. At least try and have a read of it first. You might find it’s not a bad story.”

The hall is slowly filling up as more people arrive by bus from collection points all over the city. Having Bethany workers meet those who are homeless in one spot every night gives those that need shelter a greater chance of finding it.

“It’s a warm safe environment with a hot meal in your stomach rather than being out in the cold and really vulnerable,” explains Norrie.

“We get up and grumble about the windscreen we’ve had to defrost. Try waking up and defrosting the cardboard you’ve been sleeping on. That’s the reality of it. Ultimately, if there were other options out there then we and the shelter wouldn’t be needed.

“The most horrible thing last year was that we closed on April, 1, and if people can remember on April, 2, we woke up to an inch of snow. You immediately had to think of someone or a group of people that you knew who were waking up in that.”

According to the British Red Cross, when temperatures plunge it is the homeless, the vulnerable, who are most at risk of developing hypothermia and frostbite.

Homeless individuals of any age are also more likely to report a history of sexual abuse, violence, traumatic head injury, pregnancy, human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) and excessive rates of substance abuse and drug use.

On average, homeless people die at just 47 years old.

We get up and grumble about the windscreen we've had to defrost. Try waking up and defrosting the cardboard you’ve been sleeping on. That’s the reality of it.

"There's only so much we can do though to fight this," explains Norrie. “We are what we are. A couple of roll mats on the floor, a few blankets and a nice warm meal and a safe place for people to come too.

“Does it save lives? Of course it does. It’s not even up for debate. If you think of the winter a few years ago, we had about 12 inches of snow. People are sleeping in that. At least we can save them from that.”

Outside the church, shop shutters slam down locked up for the night and only a few neon lights flicker in the darkness. Some flash with the promise of fried fish on the go while the bookies open their doors with the fickle promise of a bright future to those willing to risk all for a gamble with Lady Luck.

“At the end of the day it can all feel like a game of chance,” says Norrie. “There’s a statistic that used to go around saying that we are all only just six weeks away from homelessness.

"People think it won't ever happen to them. But if you go into work tomorrow and your firm goes bust and suddenly you’re unemployed, well, it could be you.

“Sadly it seems there will always be a need for the shelters we run because the way the financial situation is going now, people are getting more into debt and unfortunately there are people in the pipeline who may not be homeless yet but who will be there soon."

According to recent statistics, in this city's boundaries alone 4,310 registered as homeless last year with 83% of those applying classed as priority need.

This means that the vast majority of those finding themselves homeless are the most vulnerable section of people who could be at risk of domestic violence, could have just left care, be pregnant or have chronic illness. Priority homeless also includes the elderly, anyone who has been through a traumatic experience or those who have just left the armed forces.

"There’re a lot of people out there needing support," insists Norrie. “In the current financial climate there is a great stretch on resources because the money just is not there. It’s the kindness of the churches that keeps us going.

“You don’t want to ask people for any more because they give so much as it is. The amount of time and effort the volunteers give, it can be overwhelming. It can certainly be very humbling. These people don’t do it because they have to. They do it because they choose to and want to. It’s a great gift that we’ve got, a great gift.

“Listen to the laughter behind us. That tells us exactly what’s in people’s hearts and why they do it.” Over Norrie’s shoulder sounds of merriment can be heard from the kitchen as the volunteers serve up home baked chocolate brownies to their guests.

“It helps to warm people from the inside,” explains Norrie. “If you really want to help someone on the streets then you can buy them something to eat. You can always buy them a coffee to help them keep warm.

“I don’t want to say that everybody who is homeless is an alcoholic, but if you give someone who maybe has an alcohol or a drug problem £1 or £2, what do you think they’re going to spend it on?

“And are you going to be annoyed if they do? If you give them a sandwich or a cup of coffee though, what can they do but eat it?

“You don’t put fuel into the fire. You don’t feed a fire when you’re trying to put it out.”

“Do me one favour though, if you are going to give money. Give someone it. And give it unconditionally. Hand it to them because these are people. I’ve seen passers-by throw 10 pence at someone from five feet away and you just think - why would you do that? It’s just not the right way to treat people.

“So even just a kind word. A 'hello, there’s a coffee for you’ and you never know. You might be the only interaction that person has had all day.”

And as the lights go out in the church hall and weary heads rest, safe for one more night at least while the volunteers stand guard, it’s a small reassuring nod to humanity that in a small corner of Gorgie there are a handful of people still willing and fighting to show our most vulnerable members that the city hasn’t forgotten them – that the city still cares.

-Article published 22 November 2012 on STV