Banks and Vagabonds

I have not written anything for a while as I have been a tad busy of late.  I started doing contract work for a bank in February and the days are quite long.  I must say from the outset that it is not my intention to offend anyone with this blog nor do I wish to dismiss the plight of those who find themselves on the streets.  I just want to say how I feel and what I think as I go to and from work each day.

Banks, with justification or not, have a somewhat tarnished reputation.  One can name a range of scandals such as LIBOR rigging, Foreign exchange fraud, the poor handling of risk that led to the financial crisis of 2008, tax avoidance, PPI  and mortgage mis-selling.  And it would appear that those responsible are not being held to account.  I know from my limited time that there is a great deal of work being done to ensure that such things do not, or at least are less likely, to happen again.  The changes being applied to the financial services industry can be felt in the changing attitude to how risk is handled and the lower return on capital that can now be achieved.  In essence banks are being asked to hold sufficient liquid assets to be able to meet their obligations (with limits applied).  In simple terms to you or I it means having money in the bank to pay the bills but not necessarily enough to cover all of them, as they should never be called in at the same time.  Imagine if the bank said you must pay back your mortgage, credit card and personal loans all at once, you would effectively go bust unless you had sufficient savings or investments to cover the debt and you had quick enough access.  Net effect for banks is that they must hold more money, which is inefficient and therefore investors will go elsewhere to get a higher return, this will then lead to some aspects of the business being sold off or discontinued and banks will seek profit elsewhere such as so called free banking.  This is a simplistic example and not really the purpose of my blog!

Every morning I am delivered to the railway station by An to await my direct train into Brussels.  I buy a 3 month ticket, which is only valid on the Aarschot to Brussels route, for 399 euros.  It is good value for money and for a half hour trip into Brussels, it beats the car hands down.  When I get off at Brussels Central I have a short walk to work, it is on this short walk that I meet a moral challenge.

Upon leaving the train I go up one level to the very busy concourse, going right out of the station when I have gone up the wide stone steps with the main information board at the top.  When I first started commuting I would often go out of a different exit, the disadvantage with that is that it does not lead to a shopping arcade that provides a degree of shelter against the weather and you need to cross more roads to get on.  As I go up the steps towards the information board I cut across diagonally, which must annoy those wishing to go straight up the steps.  At the top I go right, past the coffee and waffle kiosk and under the road (which also leads to the Metro) there I  see my first moral challenge.

I am not sure what the best term is, there are so many and they all invoke an image: vagabond, tramp, hobo, urchin, beggar, homeless person.  Think about those terms and what comes to mind are people who are unwashed, unshaven, dressed in dirty and worn out clothes, people who have nothing and nothing to be happy about, people who are thin.  I am sure you can think of more, but, as I shall describe, the ones I meet have only one thing in common and that is they are all asking, begging, for money.  There are usually two people I see before I ascend the steps of the subway, the first is a young man who is clean shaven, smartly dressed in casual clothes and wearing what look like designer shoes.  He has a smart back pack and is holding a cardboard sign with French writing on it. He does not say anything but just stands and holds his sign and paper collection cup.  It is not a challenge to ignore him.  Further on, sitting on the steps is another older man, maybe in his 50s, not quite as smart but certainly not badly dressed.  He smiles and greets people as they pass, he seems much less serious about the situation.  Again I don't give anything.

There is now a longer walk before I get to the next person.  I go up the steps and then cross the road into the shopping arcade, sometimes you see some people taking shelter there but they tend to be sitting at the tables of the cafes.  The arcade is one of those places built maybe in the 30's and was probably quite grand in its time, it has long since lost it's appeal.  I climb the large curving staircase at the end, this staircase rises from both sides to meet in the middle and provide a balcony before continuing up to the road at the top.  Across the road there is a double stone staircase, very grand.  On the left hand set of steps there is another beggar, on the right it is clear.  Sometimes I consciously climb the right, he is always on the left. This man is more like the kind of stereotype that you would expect and is my greatest challenge, he looks beaten, unclean and in need.  He is, or appears to be, aggressive when he talks to you.  Also the food and other things he has been given he as used then dumped the remains around him, burger rolls, wrapping, plastic, whatever.  Again I do not give anything. Also on the same steps is a Gypsy accordion player, he never smiles and I always think of the Spanish train incident where An got upset by another accordion player.  I sometimes recognise the music but never leave anything, but at least he is providing some consideration for the change that is given.

I cross the road at the top and then make my way through the park and over the main road past the embassies, the Royal Palace and the Prime Minister's house.  The last leg is to walk the length of the street where the office is.  I meet my last person here and one day I arrived as he arrived for work, so to speak.  He is again very smartly dressed and has good hiking boots on.  He holds a sign written in French and he kneels with a travel bag in front of him.  Recently I noticed that he puts cardboard beneath his knees.  He doesn't say anything but he is clearly aiming for a certain clientele.

So I have this conversation on my way to and from work almost everyday.  Should I give anything, why and what if I do?  Will it help?  Am I the only one that feels guilty and should I feel guilty?  My brother, unfortunately, spent a bit of time on the streets and has a different perspective to me, he shares the common experience, but whilst he transited the area he was in these people seem to be permanent fixtures.  I think about if I give anything then there will be an expectation that I will always give something. Sometimes I want to stop and chat to find out why they are where they are and what they are doing about it.  I never see them when I am going home from work, so they are only working in the commuting hours in the morning.  Sometimes on my way home I do see gypsy women with children and babies in the main railway station, but their plight was slightly undermined when one of them started tapping away on a smart phone whilst holding her cup out,baby in arms.  Maybe I am cold hearted, unforgiving or dismissive of their situation?

I think of the job I am doing and I think of these people who are asking for money on the street.  I don't think I have ever given anything to a person just begging.  I have given to a street performer before.  Maybe I will change, maybe not.  In the morning I am usually too intent on getting to work on time, sometimes I feel like stopping to buy them something but then what?  What they need is work to be able to support themselves but they have to take the initiative too.

I will continue to go through the moral self examination for some time I think.