It’s always something in the Whitechapel Mission

Yesterday morning in the Methodist-run Whitechapel Mission Declan had an encounter with yet another Pole. (Declan and I are having run-ins with homeless Poles of late – a large percentage of the homeless visiting the mission and the Dellow Centre are Poles, which doesn’t help. It was two Poles that laughed me off last week in the laundry room of the Dellow Centre. And it was a Pole who ranted in Polish at Declan in the mission a week ago or so. Declan has also had to deal with Poles in the washroom of both establishments, most recently this morning in the case of the mission.)

Anyway, this time a Pole wanted to use my scarf and Declan's coat as his mattress and if, on his way back from the washroom, Declan hadn't grabbed his coat while it was still in the Pole’s hands – my scarf was already on the floor – that is exactly what he would have done.

It was good that Declan got hold of his coat before the Pole had time to throw it on the floor because after he was punched twice in the face in the mission by a homeless in an unprovoked attack on 17 February – and was informed by the mission manager that staff don't get involved in fights – I can't see how staff would have stepped in on an argument over a coat and scarf.

We, unlike the homeless we encounter every day, cannot get clothes either from the mission or the Sisters of Mercy-run Dellow Centre, and have to buy them with money we earn selling The Big Issue. This reminds me that the weather is getting better now and we are going to need to replace all our clothes soon. I am looking forward to that.

It is always something in the Whitechapel Mission. When the women’s shower is not being blocked by a homeless woman who is not even bothering to turn on the water – it happened twice last week, once at 6.10am – some other homeless is insisting that one or other of us talk to him or her. This morning we were one of the first into the mission at 6.00am, only to find that there was a puddle of water beneath the table we usually sit at – there are only three chairs attached, the fourth being broken – which Declan had to soak up with a kitchen cloth. He filled two cups with water which would otherwise have soaked through our bags.

Also this morning, I had company at my pitch outside Liverpool Street Station, where I usually sell The Big Issue. Just in front of me – less than two metres separating us – this guy is propping up a placard under arm, while at the same passing fliers like he is in the military. His instruction was clearly to put me out of business because every time I sold a magazine he would shuffle from one foot to the other, attempting to pass the fliers even more forcefully. He was getting some looks, I can tell you.

I decided right there and then that I would give up my shower and breakfast of a bowl of cereal in the Dellow Centre and go instead to the local City of London Camomile Street Library to type my blog and then save it to my USB Flash Drive for Declan to correct and make the necessary amendments (I am Spanish).

It turned out that the only two computers that accept a flash drive are now out of order – the librarian didn’t know when they would be back working – so I had no choice but to copy and paste the contents of the blog into my webmail. It meant that the police were able to read my blog before Declan. Yes, I am afraid that like many other activists, our email is being monitored by the police. We have even had emails to us sabotaged. But then, what is new?