WINTER BITES HARD
by Keith Salter
Winter bites hard, especially if the cold gets into your bones. Life can sometimes bite even harder, especially when the everyday basics are missing. More and more Sydneysiders are going without suitable housing and are sleeping wherever they can. A new homeless encampment has emerged, this time at Wynyard railway station.
Wynyard railway station forms part of the City Circle line. It remains an extremely busy transportation hub. It is almost an independent metropolis, a city within the city, where much of its urban sprawl is underground and filled with restaurants, clothing stores, pubs, and some unusual attractions. Like most city stations, Wynyard has high ceilings, overpriced food, bursts of cold draughts, and is filled with the distinct scent of commuter trains. At its edge, where it meets the street, the homeless gather in small numbers.
As I explore this development, I can see a series of designated sleeping spaces arranged in the repeated pattern of the tile mosaic. Odd possessions hover around the edges of each makeshift bed, as if each were sentries on duty charged to withstand the constant public scrutiny. Brightly coloured blankets adorn each bed, contradicting the greys and whites of the station. A series of large umbrellas, resting open and wide at one end of most beds, provides some fragile coverage for the rough sleepers.
Amanda, who sleeps here, was “rescued from a previous relationship” by her friend. As she recounts this to me, she seems mildly embarrassed. I have heard this narrative of needing to escape countless times before and do not delve further. Violence and intimidation and ongoing mental pressure are regular precursors to being made homeless. Notwithstanding, Amanda is currently in good spirits and the friend who rescued her is living alongside her. We can thank the universe for such good friends.
Being homeless comes with its own routine. In order for the encampment to remain in place, someone usually has to hang around and “guard” it. This means making constant arrangements with other homeless people to ensure the security of both site and personal possessions. It is an additional workload that those who have never been homeless may not have previously encountered.
Asked how long she has been living here at Wynyard, Amanda says she has been here for “about a month.” I wonder how she survives living like this, without four walls of protection and some heating and warmth, and I marvel at her tenacity. It is apparent that at some point in the recent past, each homeless person currently camping out here arrived at a similar conclusion. That sleeping outdoors and upon the margins of a major transportation hub is the best available answer to their housing problems.
Which surely provides us with an understanding as to the true nature of our society. Where one’s options are either limited to living in shelter and sharing space with violence and intimidation and discomfiture or living on the dirty streets of Sydney during wintertime. In Amanda’s case, like so many others, freedom from oppression means sleeping rough.
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