Boston's immigration office unofficially estimates that 1000 Portuguese people have come to the area in the past four years to do unskilled work in farms and factories. As European Union citizens they have a right to work in the UK, and they have transformed the town's ethnic makeup.
Change does not come easily to sleepy rural settlements like Boston. A vocal minority of residents is up in arms, and tension runs high. Racist incidents remain low – eight last year, up from three in 2001 – but one group of locals has sought support from the British National Party and the local press is filled with page after page of vitriolic invective.
Housing is one of the key areas that causes problems for the Portuguese and provokes the ire of longer-term residents. Local service providers including the council and Boston Mayflower, the town's main housing association, have found themselves dealing with new and unexpected situations.
Boston, which has a population of about 55,000, sits on the east coast, surrounded by acres of farmland. Despite an illustrious history – the pilgrim fathers named their settlement the other side of the Atlantic after their old home – it falls somewhere between quaint and modern. The town has its fine old church and a market square, yet the square is used as a car park during the day and as a circuit for boy-racers at night; for each preserved townhouse, there are several architectural horrors.
Vasco de Mello was one of the earliest Portuguese settlers in Boston. He had barely heard of the place until three years ago when, working as a photographer in London, he decided to swap city life for a quieter routine running a bar. "I didn't know the town well but when I came to see the bar, I decided to move," he says. But the face of Boston did not begin to change until a year later, when de Mello launched a labour agency. With workers in almost constant demand for local farms and factories, de Mello hit on the idea of using Portuguese migrants to fill the shortfall.
He soon established himself as what locals call a "gangmaster", organising large numbers of workers on behalf of local businesses. Today he has more than 175 employees, the vast majority of whom are Portuguese. Others have arrived, taking work with other agencies, so de Mello estimates the total Portuguese population in Boston to be "around 2000". "Word gets around," he says. "I have only advertised locally, but Portuguese started arriving in Boston looking for work." His bar has become the Portuguese community's unofficial heart – and the target for local bad feeling.
"Rumours have been spread that we only let Portuguese people into the bar," says de Mello. "But that has never been true – English people are as welcome as anyone." He sees these comments as attempts to stir up trouble between locals and Portuguese – and they have left him indignant. "Some people have been arrogant – everything in the bar has been checked again and again, as if we had something to hide. It's just ignorance. We are allowed to be here." Already, de Mello is considering his next business venture: the town's first Portuguese delicatessen.
When money isn't enough
Dilana Silva, from Lisbon, was one of those who found work in Boston through de Mello's agency. She describes how she arrived in England in September 2000, believing that better opportunities would be open to her here than in the Portuguese capital, where she was a shop assistant. She packed onions and fruit with two different agencies in Boston – "it wasn't hard work, just boring" – before marrying one of her fellow workers. Her mother and two sisters have since joined her, all taking jobs with the labour groups.
In the Middle Ages, Boston was one of the most multicultural places in England, home to merchants from all over Europe. It now has to rediscover what it is to be part of the global village
Rev Chris Dillon, St Botolph’s Church, Boston
When she became pregnant, Silva applied to be put on the council's housing list, and was allocated a house with Boston Mayflower some six months later. Before that, finding a home had been difficult, not least because of the prejudice she faced. "Even though I had enough money to put down a deposit and pay the rent, I found it hard to rent a flat," she says. "One landlady told me: 'My dear, it's because you are a foreigner.'"
She wasn't particularly shocked or surprised, she says, more put out by the unfairness of not being able to live how she wanted. "Apart from that, I haven't had any trouble myself," she says. "But there are big culture differences. People here are less inhibited, but don't show each other as much respect as Portuguese." She admits that her contact with locals is limited, and feels isolated. "I liked London," she says. "I knew lots of people and could go out all the time."
These feelings have not been helped by trouble between Portuguese and locals. Silva says she's heard about punch-ups. So has Carlos Nogueira,who lives on the same estate with his partner. "Trouble has happened in some bars. I've heard of it happening several times," he says.
In January the Boston Target, a local paper, carried a lengthy anonymous letter accusing foreign immigrants of, along with the usual charges of stealing jobs and housing, a number of attempted muggings. "What are we going to do about them?" it asked. Similar letters appeared in subsequent editions of the paper and, since then, stories implying that Boston is "inundated with immigrants" have become common (above). "There has been a cloak of silence for too long about this increasing problem with the ordinary man in the street afraid to voice his opinion in case he was branded a racist," said one letter.
The establishment of Boston Citizens United, a campaign group calling for council intervention to reduce the flow of illegal immigrants and asylum seekers to the area, has added to the tension. The group claims to have 5000 supporters, has threatened to stage public demonstrations against asylum seekers, and talked of getting the British National Party to organise an address. So far, though, the threat has not been realised and no BNP candidate stood in Boston's recent council elections.
"We wouldn't rule out any political party if its intentions suited the needs of this town," says Tony Baxter, one of the campaign's leaders. "People here have lost out to foreign nationals, and the council is not willing to do anything. These people are willing to work in the factories and packhouses for a much smaller wage than us – we can't compete."
Baxter does not see himself as a racist and says his quarrel lies with the gangmasters and with the authorities for failing to act. "Local workers lose jobs, while immigrants get minimum wages and have to pay over the odds for accommodation," he says.
Inspector Ian Gorst of Lincolnshire police says "hysterical" reactions have fanned flames and that re-establishing calm is his priority. "I'd point to the press' responsibility to publish balanced articles," he says. "But the police need to monitor what's happening and work with others in the community to rationalise perception with reality."
Portuguese are the largest single minority group looking for housing. That’s fine by us. We’re not interested in a political debate
Tony Lightfoot, Boston Mayflower Housing Association (left)
The council's role
At Boston council, pressure on the housing team is growing. Housing manager Andy Fisher says three Portuguese men or women present themselves as homeless each week. Eighteen months ago, they had barely had one such case. "People are coming here with the promise of work and accommodation, but if it falls through they're left with nothing," says Fisher. "We have to treat them as intentionally homeless, so they only stand a chance of getting accommodation in the low-demand areas."
The issue has been further confused by unforeseen consequences of the arrival of the workers. The influx has drawn other immigrants, including Iraqis, Russian and Eastern Europeans, and some gangmasters are reportedly renting large numbers of private-sector flats and filling them with immigrants who work and sleep in shifts. Recently, the council discovered 34 workers accommodated in a two-up, two-down house. As a result, it has been forced to intervene more than ever to protect tenants. Often, says Fisher, the gangmasters are not breaking the law but "it's certainly immoral".
Boston Mayflower, which took transfer of almost 5000 council homes in 2000, has more than 20 Portuguese families living on its estates. Their arrival has helped shore up demand in what were once unpopular areas of the town. To cope with their new customers, frontline staff are even being taught rudimentary Portuguese.
"Portuguese are now the largest single minority group looking for housing services," says Tony Lightfoot, Boston Mayflower's chief executive. "That's fine by us. We're not interested in a political debate – we're here to provide housing to those who need it."
At the moment Boston Mayflower can cope with the numbers involved, says Lightfoot. However, he wants to be able to plan ahead and anticipate greater demand should it occur. "It's important that we talk to the Portuguese population to gauge if it's likely to expand. Will extended family members eventually come over too, for example? We also need to talk to employers to find out how their labour requirements will change."
For Reverend Chris Dalliston, vicar at Boston's St Botolph's church, the changes are important stages in the town's development. "In the Middle Ages, Boston was one of the most multicultural places in England, home to merchants from all over Europe. It now has to rediscover what it is to be part of the global village," he says.
Dalliston has suggested holding a public meeting on the subject of immigrants, where representatives of the council and police could address the fears of local people. The idea does not seem to have been particularly popular, particularly with the authorities. Yet the council does see information as the best tool to calm tensions. Earlier this year, Boston Mayflower and the council released a joint letter setting out the facts about immigration: that Portuguese are entitled to work in the UK and can eventually join the housing register like anyone else.
The council seems to think there is little else it can do. Dalliston, however, says more pressure needs to be brought to bear on local employers. "There will continue to be problems if people feel the law is being avoided," he says, "and they will be less inclined to distinguish between legitimate and illegal immigrants."
For some Portuguese immigrants, that day can't come soon enough. Dilana Silva stays indoors a lot of the time with the curtains closed so that her baby can sleep. She sees little hope in Boston of getting the kind of work she dreams of – "something working with people, when at the end of the day I can say I did something special" – . Returning to Portugal is not an option for the moment.
Source
Housing Today
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