Pictures and Words

I didn’t expect Peter to do a write-up for the weekend (not exactly sure why), but he did. So, in an effort to not fall behind with the updates, you get extra posts today and tomorrow. Yay!

1:30am – Woke up convinced that I was Irish and needed to write letters to my eight siblings. I guess that’s what happens after reading Spike Milligan’s biography.

8:20am – Woke up proper. It hadn’t rained, I hadn’t wet myself, but my back was soaked: shirt, jacket and sleeping bag. I can only assume it was either sweat or residual dampness from the rains on Thursday night.

I walked up the hill into the sunshine, and spread out my sleeping bag and jacket (which was also still damp) and an on my front so my back could also dry.

9:30 – Completely dried, I decided to head back over to Federation Square. Saturday morning, there should be some entertainment- if not, there would at least be plenty of people around.

I once heard the definition of introvert as someone who is drained of energy by being around people, vs. extroverts who gain energy by being surrounded by them. By that definition (or, honestly, by most) I’m definitely an extrovert. I have no problems with being alone, but I like to be somewhere busy. I find it relaxing.

9:50 – Arrived at Fed Square. There was no entertainment, and very few people. I finished my loaf of bread, and had a nap in the sun.

1pm – Woken by a text message from my sister, warning me not to tell people who turn up tomorrow where I’m sleeping, because there are still some extremely angry people. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I am.

I suppose I assumed (Gavin: “Ass” out of “U” and “Me… d”)that once I started, people would realise that I wasn’t doing any harm. The main objection was that I’d be stealing genuinely homeless people’s sleeping places and change.

I’ve fairly conclusively demonstrated that I’m not stealing anyone’s sleeping spots. Except for the first night, I’ve not yet come across a single sleeping person at night. Where-ever they go, it’s not where I’m sleeping. I suppose one could argue that they’re not there because I am, but if you’d seen any of the places I’d slept, you’d realise how ridiculous that is.

The change issue is a bit less definitive, but I’ve been doing this for almost a week, and this is the most accurate analogy I can come up with: Begging for change is like fishing in a lake. How many fish you catch depends on how long you’re out there (Gavin: And also the location you’re fishing in) If you’re lucky enough to catch a fish as soon as you start, you stop fishing. (Gavin: Or, you keep going if you need more fish. Just saying.) But if you’re out there long enough, you’re sure to catch one.

If I get change (“a fish”) from someone, does that mean someone else directly misses out? Possibly. It’s unlikely, but it’s possible that someone else was going to catch that exact fish you’ve caught, but it’s unlikely. And even if it’s true, all you’re doing is making them keep fishing for a little longer.

I’m not a bad person. If my presence was causing someone else to suffer, I’d stop right now.

The vast majority of homeless people I’ve seen haven’t been asking for money one-on-one, they’ve been holding a sign out and asking for donations. I’ve decided not to do that for two reasons:

1) I think the number of people who contribute to a sign-holder is vastly fewer than those who give money when asked directly. I don’t want to reduce the number even more by competing for funds.

2) The reason I’m asking for money instead of taking some with me is to observe people’s reactions when I do. I can observe the (much smaller and less interesting) reactions to sign-holders without being the person holding the sign.

I’m not going to be arrogant enough to claim that I’ve improved anyone’s life by doing this, but if we continue the fish analogy, I’ve caught some fish that potentially no-one else would have caught, and given them to other people (the donuts and the strange pastry things are two examples).

What’s more, next month I’m going to give back every cent I’ve received to other people on the streets. If fish/money is equivalent to time, I’m putting in the time this month, and giving it back next month (Gavin: He lost me there a little bit with the money/time thing).

It is genuinely my belief that I’m not harming anyone by living on the streets this month. I’m not expecting to change anyone’s mind, but I thought I’d explain myself. I’m not particularly worried about being attacked by anyone from the internet. Angry people on the internet tend to be quite non-violent in real life (Gavin: Please, don’t take that as an invitation to prove him wrong).

1:10pm – A young guy came and invited me (like he has been everyone else in Fed Square) to see a dance/drama routine that his church is putting on down the stairs. It starts at 1:30. I’ve got nowhere else to be, so I agree to attend.

1:30 – Went and watched the dance/drama. Dance was surprisingly fun. Nothing mind-blowing, but I’ve seen much, much worse. The drama part was well-presented- completely mimed, performed to a soundtrack, and I was impressed by how well they managed to keep in time. A bit heavy-handed in message, but when you’re watching a church group present in a public place, that’s what you have to expect.

After the performance, the group dispersed into the crowd to talk with us. Had a good chat with the guy who picked me- I was a bit reticent, but he spoke more than enough for both of us. He gave me an invitation to come to their church, but it clashes with my “Sunday Meet-up” so I won’t be able to go. Alas.

Afterwards, I headed back up to Fed Square, and a few minutes later he found me and extended another invitation to come to Hungry Jacks at Central for “Chat and Snacks” at 3. I told him I’d be there.

2:40pm – Got on the free tram. I suspected I was going to be a little late- I had confused “comes every 12 minutes” with “takes 12 minutes to circle the city”, which it most assuredly does not.

The consistently least friendly people I’ve come across are the information people at tram spots. They consistently glare at me, like I’m going to spread out my sleeping bag right then and there to have a nap.

3:30pm – Finally found the Hungry Jacks: no sign of them. I was sort of counting on them for a free feed. Looks like I’ll have to go begging. HJs is right near the State Library, so head there. The front lawn is covered in people.

4:10 – Got $2.05 from a guy eating McDonalds, 35c from a guy apologetic that he doesn’t have any more, 75c from a girl with her friend and, from a girl who first asks what I need it for (“food” I answer), $2.50. A large group of people don’t have any change, but one guy offers me a piece of tuna sushi (my favorite) which I accept.

With food in hand, it feels a bit weird asking for money, so I head back to my bag and eat it. A pair of ladies approach me and start the whole Jesus spiel, but I show them the invite I got earlier, and they laugh and head off. A few minutes later, another two ladies ask if I’m interested in doing a religious “survey”. It’s really a series of questions to spark off discussion, so I willingly say yes.

Anyone who has been in a conversation with me about any of the following will know how much I love discussing: the history of Disney, narrative structure, the nature of love or reality, comedy theory, and religion. They’re after a dialogue, not just an opportunity to preach, so we discuss religion for close to an hour.

They’re also the first to ask why I’m living on the streets, who haven’t been completely satisfied with the answer “circumstances”. So I tell them that I’ve been on the streets for about a week, that I expect to be off them in about a month, and that I didn’t live on the streets of Brisbane because I had “more of a support network”.

Nothing I say is technically a lie (Gavin: Cue flame war in the comments… now). I originally had a more thorough back-story prepared, but quickly learned that people either don’t care, or are too nervous/shy to ask for details. The two ladies are extremely nice, and (as I said) surprisingly non-preachy; I got the impression they genuinely wanted to learn other people’s opinions, as more than a route to conversation. In my (extensive) experience with religious people, this is completely unique.

The younger one offers to add me on facebook (even though I explain that I won’t be on for the next month) and so I give her my name. I’ll be curious to know what she thinks of this blog, if she finds it (Gavin: If you’re there, hello religious lady!). She also slips me a $10 note, which actually makes me blush. I’m tempted to had it on, but then I’d just end up begging for another $10 from someone. I think I’ll keep $5 for myself, and pass the other $5 on.

5:30pm – I’m sitting and writing up the day so far, when I spot some Mormons. Mormons!!

Again, if you know me, you’ll know how obsessed I am with Mormons. No man should love members of a religion he’s not a part of as much as I love Mormons. It borders on the unhealthy. I ran up and introduced myself, and after a brief chat, get the address of one of their chapels. After Sunday, I’m going to head out of the city for a while, and a Mormon Chapel is as good a place as any to aim towards.

Forgot to mention- the two ladies I had the long chat with? Turns out they’re Seventh-day Adventists, which are apparently (in direct contradiction with all the reading I’ve done) a separate organization from the Jehovah’s Witnesses.

(Kenny, if you’re reading this, we once had an argument on this very subject. MY research proved you wrong, but it seems you were right after all. My apologies for the mistake, I was wrong.)

6pm – Peckish, I decided to get something to eat. After all the discussion of Hungry Jacks, I was feeling hungry for a burger, so I went and checked their menu. One of their special deals was a double cheese burger, small soft drink, sundae and small fries for $5.95, so I got that one; trading the soft drink for some bacon on the burger.

6:30 – I wasn’t planning on sleeping in the city for a while (a week or longer), so I needed to pick up some bread. Went into Coles at Melbourne Central, and was surprised to discover that the $1.95 was a sale, and that the same bread was only available for $3.99, way more than I’m willing to pay for bread. Coles-brand multigrain was only $1.80, so I grabbed a loaf of that. The cheapest condiment available is Coles-brand hazel spread at $1.20, another sale, so I grab one of those. Also a carrot for 27c (Gavin: He’s jumping tenses again. The English-teacher-to-be in me is appalled).

I head outside to try and pass on the $5 to the person-with-the-dog spot, but it’s empty (probably because it’s Saturday).

7pm – Catch a tram over to Treasury Gardens; the last of the CBD gardens that I haven’t slept in. On the way, the tram stops and the slightly erratic driver screams at some louts on top of a building. Takes a while to work out what’s going on, but it seems the kids are throwing ice-cream down onto the cars below, which is (obviously) not a safe activity.

The tram driver calls the cops, tells them which building and balcony to find the kids, and we continue on our merry way.

9pm – At the park. Feeling sleepy, so I find a bench under a tree and have an early night.

Up Next: Day 7

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