Here's my view:
We're heading up the hill to a place called Mt Sinaia.
As we ascend I recall the last train station I was at. Just under 48 hours ago. I wasn't catching a train. I wasn't even thinking of train travel. I was there as this was a place where the homeless are.
People throwing cigarettes on the floor and people rushing to enjoy the remainder of it. A solitary man standing with his possessions in a small case.
One man approaches. He has 2 daughters and a son. His two daughters are in London and he's given his apartment to his son. His home: the streets.
We're here because we've been taken out by the night mobile team from the Romanian NGO, Samusocial. Their mission to reach out to the 5500 homeless of Bucharest.
Our team are good and hot off the mark. The social worker straight in there talking and assessing, the driver getting out sleeping bags and hot soups, the doctor writing notes furiously. They not only do their job but they act honourably and listen to each person.
Recently I approached a homeless/workless person in my hometown she was concerned with her washing and not having little money for it. We escorted her around and through doing so listened and at the end whilst not changing anything was able to say thank you for speaking to me.
We leave and each night mobile team makes a point to say goodbye in person.
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