Fuddland

Volunteering for Crisis continues to be a terrific experience; even though I have only seen the night-shift in operation, when there are nothing like as many activities and events happening throughout the shelter, it is still impressive how things are coordinated so well. This was especially true of the Christmas Day night-shift, when we had forty fewer volunteers than expected, and were providing accommodation for more guests than any Christmas since 1992. Due to the need to do staggered rotations in assigned tasks, each duty was lasting about twice as long as normal, particularly tough on those who were outside the shelter watching over entrances and exits. But these long shifts gave me much greater opportunity to talk to the guests in more depth than I had managed up to now.

A particularly talkative group of five in the Early Sleepers tent — where I was spending my first task watching a fire exit and keeping an eye out for any trouble amongst the guests within the tent — were doing anything but sleeping: chatting away, laughing and joking and filling me in on their day-to-day lives. It was really interesting to hear them talk about the issues they face. It was good to have the time to build up a rapport with them, but I could see they were also tired of answering questions of people like me, so I didn’t like to press them too much to educate me completely.

After a break, and because of the slow duty changes, I spent the rest of the night in the Learning tent, watching over the bank of ten PCs that remain available almost all day for the guests to surf the web and check their email. It was here that I met Peter [NHRN], a man in his fifties brought over to the tent by one of the Samaritans counsellors, wondering if we would be able to locate any shelters in London that have a very strictly-enforced “no alcohol” policy.

I talked to Peter for about three quarters of an hour, as he took me through his story — having been abused by an alcoholic father, along with his mother and sister, he has an aversion to alcohol so extreme that he has never touched a drop, and if anyone so much as offers him a drink, he can turn violently upon them, a trait which has regularly landed him in trouble throughout his life. He told me that he has become very tired of the way he is, and despite being given psychological help, recently made an attempt on his life, which was unsuccessful only because he was discovered in time. He wasn’t interested in shelters for recovering alcoholics, as he was sure that there would still be drink consumed in his presence there, and frustratingly we could not find any shelters that fitted his needs. Towards the end of our conversation he said he would probably be making another attempt on their life very soon, and I felt I had personally failed him by not being able to find a suitable shelter. I encouraged him to visit the housing advice service during the day, but he was adamant that they would not be able to help him either. A fellow volunteer, having listened-in in part of our conversation, had brought over another member of the Samaritans team, and I left them with Peter to use their skills as best they could.

Towards the end of the night-shift the Learning tent is closed off in order for the techs to clean out all the computers ready for the next day’s use, so after doing a little tidy-up, my duties shifted to letting the guests know when it would reopen and preventing them from entering the tent; thankfully I was on duty with Vicki, the volunteer I’ve gotten to know best over the three nights. Having discovered we live not very far from one another, we were able to share rides to and from the shelter when public transport was down, as well as have chats whenever our breaks coincided, it’s especially nice to have someone you get along with on these long shifts, especially one as keen on Sudoku puzzles as me.

The next morning I headed straight from the shelter to visit relatives in Dorset, meaning that apart from an hour or so in the car on the way down, I went without sleep for about thirty-three hours straight. Thankfully I’ve had the last two nights off from Crisis in order to get well rested before the final two night-shifts. Word is that after the last shift finishes at around nine o’clock on Friday morning, a pub with early opening hours is sought out and it’s Last Man Standing. Ulp!

The following is an entry which follows on from the above:

1. Crisis Open Christmas nights four and five [Fuddland]. Excerpt: I can't possibly write about this now--I've been up for twenty-six hours straight, having gone straight to the pub at half past nine this morning after an eleven hour shift. Suffice to say: everyone's my best mate, they are......

#1

felicity | 2005 / 12 / 30 – 12:00

well done on your efforts at the shelter. i know that guarding an entrance may not seem much of a task, but the combined effort of the whole group would have made so much of a differnce to the client’s lives. and it was very touching to read about vera and her brother. and i hope that Peter manages to find a solution to his problem.
have a happy new year Doctor David!

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