Inside the Simon Community: Everyone has their own story, but the common denominator is food poverty

Karen Funnell meets staff and service users of Cork Simon’s soup run, which provides vital nutrition for people who are homeless and over a third of service users who are renters who can’t afford to pay bills and buy food. It operates every night of the year

IT’S A quiet night at the soup run by all accounts. On a typical evening, there could be up to 35 availing of the services but on this occasion there’s fewer than 20. Still, the handful of volunteers have plenty of work to do. There’s shepherd’s pie and pork tonight — there’s not always a choice, it often depends on the donations Simon has received — but there’s always something warm and nutritious.

Monika Butler is a care and support assistant with the Simon Community and she oversees the nightly soup run with colleague Deirdre Healy.

Monika says: “The people we are seeing every night cannot afford to buy food. At least one third of them are not actually homeless — they are in rented accommodation — but they have nothing left after they pay rent and bills.”

Doors open at 7pm and people start to trickle in. Monika has a clipboard with a list of the regular users and they are marked off as they come in. Some smile and say hello, others regard a stranger standing with a notebook and pen with understandable suspicion.

Nobody is disturbed while they eat; everyone deserves a little privacy and peace at mealtimes, even in a shelter. There are two women, and the rest are men. Tonight’s cohort appear to be mostly between 30 and 50 but it’s hard to put an age on some.

Monika Butler and Deirdre Healy who operate the soup run of Cork Simon. Ms Butler, who oversees the run, says more than a third of service users are not homeless but renters who can’t afford to pay bills and buy food. Pic: Clare Keogh

There’s some chat after the food has been eaten, and the tea and biscuits are sent around. Some head off immediately, others hang around for a bit. It’s not the Ritz but it’s warm.

Some don’t want to talk about their situation. One man tells me nobody knows that he uses the soup run so he’s not willing to divulge any information about himself. He’s hungry, but he has his pride too.

Michael (not his real name) is more forthcoming. He is originally from France but moved to Ireland in the late 1990s. He is a qualified chef and was in the army. In his own words, he used to have a life. He’s in his early 40s, and is polite and well spoken.

“When I first came to Cork, I was working. Then I broke my kneecap and became addicted to painkillers. This progressed to heroin. Things spiralled for a few years but I got clean. Then in 2014 I had a relapse.

“I’ve been clean now since February, living in a St Vincent de Paul B&B with an outreach worker and a drugs counsellor. I use the soup run services because I am trying to save money to get somewhere to live — I’ve been on the waiting list for seven years.”

He keeps himself to himself. He has no ties here. Although he has family in France, he hasn’t seen them in a few years. The friends he had were all associated with his heroin habit so he’s basically on his own.

“The soup run is great because I’m trying to save a deposit so I can get out of the B&B — I can’t do that if I have to buy food as well. I don’t come here all the time, just when I need to. It really helps in the cold months.

Deirdre Healy who works on the Simon Community’s soup run in Cork City. On this particular night there is a choice of shepherd’s pie and pork. There may not always be a choice but the food is always warm and nutritious. Pic: Clare Keogh

“Every day I look for accommodation on the internet but there’s nothing out there, and even less accepting rent allowance. I did get a flat in 2014 but the place was a nightmare — the guy upstairs was on drugs and I ended up back on heroin.

“I have sent off hundreds of CVs but nobody will look at you when you put down Vincent de Paul as your address. I’ve had a life, I’ve been in the army, I’m a qualified chef. I just want to get my own place and get my life back. It doesn’t seem much to ask for but obviously it is.”

John Paul, 40, is happy to use his own name and have his photograph taken. He jokes and chats to Simon staff and volunteers but you get the impression the banter covers up a lot. As it’s a quiet night, there’s some food left over and he’s delighted when he’s offered a spare meal to take away.

John Paul, a Cork Simon service user, has been on a housing waiting list for six years. Pic: Clare Keogh

John Paul was born in England but has lived in Cork since 2004. He is in private accommodation but cannot find a flat where he feels safe and secure, and has been subjected to several burglaries. He has been on a housing waiting list for six years.

“Landlords don’t care, they just want your money upfront and they don’t care if things go wrong or need fixing. That’s my experience.

“I come to the soup run because I can’t afford accommodation, bills, and food — I have to make a choice. The electric meter in the flat is 80c a day — that may not sound much but if I have €1 a day, that leaves me 20c to live on.

“I’d be lost without the soup run. It’s not perfect, but I need to eat.

“I want to live somewhere decent, where I feel safe and not afraid that I’m going to be burgled. I see people on waiting lists for less time than me and I think to myself, what am I doing wrong? I tell the truth and I get nowhere.”

Paul (not his own name) was in a rush to catch a bus, so didn’t have time to talk but he wanted to say this: “I’m living in private rented accommodation and I’m on invalidity benefit. I can’t afford to buy dinner, that’s the reality. I come here four nights a week, and without it I’d have nothing.”

The soup run has operated in Cork since 1971 and operates every night of the year. Last year, 947 people availed of its services, up 24% since 2013, and a total of 11,294 hot meals were served. Demand is rising all the time.

As well as hot, nourishing food, it provides blankets and warm clothing, where needed, and a friendly listening ear. Many homeless — or those in rented accommodation described by Simon as being on the edge of homelessness — are incredibly isolated. The hour spent at the soup run may be the only socialising they do that day.

Karen Funnell with John Paul, a Cork Simon service user, who was born in England but has lived here since 2004. Pic: Clare Keogh

Working with the outreach team, Simon workers can help quickly identify people who may be sleeping rough, or who have just become homeless, and people at risk of losing their homes. In all cases the outreach team works quickly to ensure people have access to the most appropriate service — whether that be a bed in the emergency shelter, an appointment with the health team, a referral to the Youth Homeless Drug Prevention Project or an appointment with other more appropriate services.

Suzanne Vernon is a volunteer with the soup run for the past year and a half and works two or three times a month on a rotational basis.

“This time of year is very busy but people need to remember that it’s all year round that people need the services of a soup run.

“Everyone I serve food to has their own story to tell; most are patient and very grateful. In the time I’ve worked here, I’ve never had any hassle.”

To donate, go to www.corksimon.ie