So here I am, sitting in a room full of people. Many of them have given up their lives and are trying to start again.
There's a guy who has come from Afghanistan, a woman from The Congo, a guy from Sudan, at least one Iraqi Kurd, someone else is from Sierra Leone and someone is from Rwanda. All are here for one reason: the perception is that life here is better than at home, or in St Gate.
The Iraqi tells me that he left Greece because he was attacked for being a foreigner. Now the kids in his area throw stones at his house because he's been given it for nothing just because he's foreign. One of the women has three kids with her and three left at home. The young girl from Sierra Leone was sent away by her family because they didn't want her to be killed.
At thend of today I'll pocket my money (almost twice for one day what each of these people get in a week) and go home in my fairly nice car, to my comfy house. Maybe I'll switch on cable and watch as CNN show faraway, unreal images of people being shot and blown up, starving and struggling and dying, interrupted by advertisments for computer systems and five-star conference hotels.