Conversations at the Cafe on The Square

It’s almost six years since I first sat at a table inside Sea Mills’ Cafe on the Square. The cafe was busy and I shared a table with a blind lady, while her guide dog, a black lab, rested at her feet. People greeted her as they entered the cafe, and she told me she’d lived in the area all her life.

This community hub was forced to close in March when lockdown restrictions came into force. On Monday, July 13, the first day the cafe has reopened, the table I sat at is still out of bounds: it’s outside only for now. But the front door is wide open, ready to welcome everyone back in.

Within ten minutes of opening, the small number of outdoor tables are taken by older people, while younger customers sit with their cups on the grass. The joyful sounds of children playing drift over from the recently reopened playpark. Blake, aged six and Gracie, aged four, are with their mum, Heather Keats. Fellow local Matt Ayers is nearby. They say they are all happy to be back at the cafe but that lockdown has not been all bad.

Blake, in particular, has enjoyed home-schooling: “It’s better than proper school. There’s less work and more bouncing on the trampoline.” Matt, who’s currently furloughed, says he has found home-schooling his three boys difficult at times, but that it’s given his family time to focus on what’s important: “We have prioritised different things, really: Maths and English but also getting out into nature and exercise.”

Sitting down at one of the wooden tables, Rita Cook shouts her order for a drink with four sugars to her friend Kevin Evans (“it’s two really, there’s not much in those little packets”). She and Kevin are part of a group of older people, along with Diane Watkins and Big John (I never do find out his surname). In normal times they come to the cafe most days.

Talk on their table turns to how everyone has passed the time during lockdown. “I’ve quite enjoyed doing nothing, just pottering about,” Rita says. “I’ve spring cleaned and sorted things out.”

The conversation is peppered with the sort of banter you only get between good friends. They aren’t here for the coffee – though it is good. This is about community.

“I’ve done nothing,” John says. “I’ve been like a hermit over there –” he gestures towards the house where he’s lived his entire life. He’s diabetic and aspects of his healthcare have been neglected during lockdown. “Write this down,” he says to me: “Nails. Don’t laugh – it’s not funny. I need my nails cutting.” John is partially sighted. He mimes trying to do his own nails and comedically stabs himself with the nail file.

Kevin’s family live in Chepstow and he’s still not been able to see them, but all four friends have had their shopping done by neighbours or relatives. Cafe staff and volunteers have even been ringing around to check in on their customers, and have gone out on errands for those who need it. It’s been a lifeline.

Rachel Roberts is one of four staff members at the cafe who were furloughed. She’s back to help with opening up, and though her shift is over and she should have left by now, she says she’s finding it hard to go because it’s so great to see everyone.

“I’m pleased to be back but lockdown was actually quite nice,” Rachel says as she collects trays of used cups. “The roads were empty and the air felt cleaner.”

Dave Mallard, a painter and decorator, is another regular who has come back on the first day of the cafe reopening. He says he thought he would struggle with lockdown at first. “I had the anxiety of having no income and also I’m a really social person and I need to be active,” he says. To fill his time he’s been volunteering as a driver for the Bristol North West Foodbank, where customers call him “the smiley driver”. “They’d had a 350 per cent increase in need at the same time as most of their volunteers were shielding,” Dave says, so he stepped in to help.

Doing up to 17 drops a day has made him very aware of the hardships of lockdown: “I’ve experienced immense gratitude from people who never thought they would be using a foodbank. I delivered to one chap who had not eaten for three days.” Now, Dave’s rethinking his future: “I don’t want to let go of this community feeling so I’m thinking now about how I can balance being able to volunteer with starting to go back to work.”

It’s the end of the day before I can catch up properly with cafe manager Heidi Simpson. She’s worked at the cafe since overseeing its transformation from a derelict toilet block over nine years ago. She’s in her element, but it’s been tough. Only one staff member and one volunteer can be in the cafe at once, and not all the volunteers are able to come back yet. “I’m ruined!” she jokes. “I’ve not worked seven hours for such a long time!

“People have been in tears, happy to be back. There are also customers who we know well but haven’t seen for over four months. So much has happened in their lives: people have died, couples have split up. It’s been emotional, and we know that’s going to be just the tip of the iceberg.”

“This isn’t just a job,” Heidi says. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here. These past weeks I’ve felt like my right arm is missing.

“Mike (one of the other managers) and I were in tears when we had to close because we knew what the impact would be on other people.”

Find out more about The Cafe on the Square by visiting their Facebook page: www.facebook.com/SeaMillsCommunityInitiatives

Source: https://www.bristol247.com/news-and-features/features/conversations-at-the-cafe-on-the-square/