Content statement: This interview contains themes of physical violence

“ The thing is, you cannot blame somebody for being homeless, it can even happened to you.”

On my first day at Jacobikerk, I met Marcel, who greeted me with an eager smile and a story he was excited to share. Having seen him around Utrecht the following weeks, his openness made an immediate impression. The following week, as I returned, we chose a quiet bench outside the church. It was a peaceful spot that allowed for a more intimate conversation, yet it still felt a bit intrusive with the lack of privacy and interruptions from fellow members. I could sense a bit reluctance from him as well, but that quickly dissipated once they left. With not much time, he leaped right into it with almost not enough time for me to process.

“I’m not a saint but I’m not a criminal as well”, he clarified. “I was 17, homeless for 30 years, when I left my parents home. The reason was, my father was an alcoholic and he used to beat me up every time when he was drunk. And I got used to after 10 years, getting beaten. You don’t feel it anymore, but the trigger, why I left my parents home was because he hit my mother so hard, she ended up in the hospital. So I decided to be homeless. I took a bag of clothes and that’s it. No job, no social money from the government and I had really nothing. So that’s how it started, and after 30 years, I had my own apartment and I still have it.”

I then asked him how was able to receive it as in Utrecht specifically, there is an enormous housing shortage. “I was lucky” he stressed. “When you want to rent a house the regular way, you’ll have to wait 10 to 15 years”. I asked what people do in the meantime, when there is such a long wait time, and the weather here is quite severe. “You have to stay in the city where you have asked for an apartment. You have to go to the house corporation, wait and [have] patience, but when you’re homeless, you don’t have that time. so I [got] help from housing first, and housing for us is especially for people that are long-term homeless like me. I was homeless for like 30 years. If you meet those people, you have to wait like three months, and you get an apartment”.

Curious to hear his perspective, I opened up about my mixed feelings regarding the Housing First approach. While I initially saw it as the solution, many interviews had highlighted the potential risks, especially for those struggling with addiction, which made me question its overall effectiveness. “I had to come, and I was really addicted to a lot of substances as well. But I’m clean now because I have a girlfriend in Kenya; and of course my apartment keeps myself clean because I have my rest place now. I can put my stuff there without being afraid that it’s getting stolen. I have my rest. When I want to go to bed, I can just go to bed. It’s much different than the time [from when] I was homeless. I have more than just unrest in my life, so I don’t need the drugs anymore”.

I wanted to clarify if it was from the strong sense of support he was able to gain, made him quit to which he agreed. “But when I was homeless, it  [kept] me standing up. It was a difficult time, and drugs could kill all the stress. Most of the homeless people are addicted, but it doesn’t say that all homeless people are addicted. There are still exceptions.” I tried to ask him more of what it was like was on the streets, and how it has changed from his perception; but could sense deep reluctance, and decided not to push further. As similar to Seattle, I noticed that it would take a stronger relationship to develop the trust for him to share his story. The following week, he invited me to a walking tour around Utrecht. I was able to see his personal journey with other individuals in the social service industry.

Marcel is also extremely proud of his city and the way that they have handled homelessness. Having been here over a month now, I agree. “First of all, this country is better than any other country in the world. Because this country takes care of the homeless people especially this city. When you go to a Amsterdam, you will see that it’s not like here”. Having been to Amsterdam, the smell, the distance, just the structure is much less integrated. “There are more homeless people in Amsterdam and they don’t have enough places for them, that’s the point. Here, it’s enough everybody can have a bed in the night. And the government helps those people. If you are homeless., you get money from the government.. that’s the best because any other country, we don’t have that.”

write about after the tour recordings.

Content statement: This article contains themes of loss and sexual violence. Names have also been changed for the purposes of this interview.

“They said ‘you can try to be another Bea, you can do this. You are a strong woman.”

I had first met Bea at Jacobikerk, also known as Saint James’ Church, during one of their Monday morning gatherings. From 9 to 11 a.m., the church offers free bread and tea, creating a warm space for people to connect, especially those having faced difficult circumstances. After weeks of brief encounters I returned, noticing Bea at other community events throughout Utrecht as well. That following day, she finally found the time to sit down and talk with me.

As we walked into a quiet room to conduct the interview, I noticed a few mason jars sitting on the table filled with little slips of paper. She mentioned they were affirmations that people could bring home during difficult times. “You can take one home”, she said. And so I did, with one currently sitting on my nightstand as a memento.

At the beginning of the interview, she was deeply apologetic for her English grammar, which never seemed to phase me. “I’m a little tired because one week ago, I had the funeral [for the] father of my ex husband, Friday I [had] the funeral [for] the sister of  father of my ex-husband; and the week earlier on Thursday the funeral of Laslo. Three funerals two weeks time. Yesterday I wrote my poetry.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “With my feelings, I write poetry. The feeling of your body you can write on paper. Yesterday we had a poetry day here in Utrecht and I was the third in the top of three. I’m in the second one, and the first one, the big prize, had my name but it was a different person” she laughed.

“My youth has many troubles, I live[d] with a group.” Because of how difficult her childhood was, she did not feel comfortable divulging more details of her background, so we quickly moved on. “I’m Bea, I’m 45 years old, I have lived here [for] 2 years in Nieuwegein. Before, I lived in Utrecht for 8 years. From 2009 to 2013/14 I [became] homeless because my divorce was hard and difficult. I was homeless [from] sleeping place to sleeping place and I was scared [of] people. Everyday I was crying and calling the police [for] attention. On the street for a lady [it] is hard because most [men are]touching you, raping, and police, they do nothing. That was hard for me because I am going to the hospital asking for help because I was raped many times. I think, two to three times per week, and that [was] almost 6 years long.” She mentioned how there were many days she was left unable to eat.

“In 2013, I [had] a crisis place in Worden. My crisis place was 3 months, and they said ‘you can stay longer, then we can find another place for you’. In 2013 at the end of the year, I [was] going to Waterstraat here on the corner and… I stay for 2 months.. Most of the time, [it] was [just] myself. [By] Monday, Tuesday you [begin to] have floor dishes. In 2014, 5th [of] January, I [could] stay for [a] long time in Guystraat and I lived for 1.5 years; with many things to learn. I ha[d] no trust in people. I was scared, [and I ran] away. [There were] troubles with my medications, trouble with people on the street. ‘You have a room, we have no room’ and you can stay there, we stay on street’. After 6 months I have an appointment to talk with psychiatri[st].”

“They said ‘you can try to be another Bea, you can do this. You are a strong woman. We give you one week to try,’. And in one week, I had two appointments in the psychiatric hospital for homeless people and people who [need] a room. After one week[where I spent] most of the time speak[ing], I went to a daycare center,[where] I make tea, make the toilets clean. [Then] we go into a Botsch and we go see biographic plants. After a week, the police came back with the psychiatrist assistants and, after one year and 6 months I have my own place.. for me alone; through [the] mental healthcare organization De kea. It was difficult for me because I was there the whole time alone. After 6 months [I went ] to the church, and [started doing] activities: walking, [cycling], and church administration. After 6 years I’m going to my second apartment, where I live now in Nuiewehein. This place is for myself”. She said, elated. I asked her what she does now if she needs support. She said how there are many different services around for homeless people like Jacobikerk. “Sometimes if I have troubles I call my mother”. 

“But this is the first place you have for yourself, not provided for you” I clarified.

“Yes.”

I echoed what an amazing achievement that is, and asked what she is able to do for financial means, whether it be a job or social welfare program. ” The Haus of Army (Salvation Army),  I’m a volunteer here at( Jacobikerk) and I’m doing a lot for homeless people and churches. You have here in Utrecht, a silence center, and I’m an ambassador. Most of the time I’m everywhere and in the church. Tuesday I’m free, [the rest] of the week I work, self employed. A lot of what I do for the homeless people [is with] my own money. I don’t have a lot, but what I can, I do”.