Perhaps, it was laziness stopping me from searching for proper housing, or perhaps it was the idea of freedom which played with my mind. In fact, it was probably both. I don't recollect putting much prior thought into it, but one day, I found myself without an apartment, a room, or even a roof over my head, in Groningen, an old city in the Netherlands.
I recall vividly the first night I lay wide-eyed in the grass outside my tent. It was a clear night and you could see the stars above. I was in the outskirts of the city; a small forest, where the city lights could not taint the night sky.
I remember looking up as though I was looking at the stars for the first time. It is difficult to explain, but it was an almost childish wonder that grabbed my senses; I was looking at everything anew. The trees and the grass around had me tightly bound in some kind of a spell. The way the leaves shuffled ... even the sound of crickets seemed mesmerising.
Being homeless is not as bad when you have things to do, places to be, deadlines to meet. For me, it was a double Masters degree in science that kept me occupied. The walk from my tent to the research institute, which lay at the far end of the city, took well over an hour. It was sometimes pleasant and sunny, sometimes rainy and sometimes it had just become routine and mundane as I walked across the cobbled town.
I would usually spend quite a few many hours at the institute. In any case, there wouldn't be much to do back where I was camped. I felt unfettered, free from the modern shackles of life; no phone calls, no TV shows, no movies, no other burdens disguising themselves as a blessing.
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Having said that, you always find yourself with a lot of extra time at hand. To solve that problem, I would go on long walks, whistling away through the streets. Quite often, I would sit with my sketchbook and draw or paint different parts of the town. Alternatively, you would have found me huddled over a novel with a cup of coffee at some local café.
And yet, somehow, I still always seemed to have a little bit extra time.
There was a camping site nearby, where I could shower. Passing travellers would often stop by the site. Sometimes I would join them for a barbecue over a campfire in the evening, or just sit and chat with them.
I met all kinds of folks. From circus people to gypsies, from hippies to travelling businessmen. It was stimulating and always fascinating to listen to the different stories people had to tell. Everyone had something unique to say. Not having the means to cook, I became accustomed to eating ready-made food, so these barbecue occasions would be a welcome change.
In the mornings, I would go to the Vismarkt to buy a muffin for breakfast from a particular vendor. He would always smile at me. Sometimes, he would say 'You look a bit thin today', and then he would offer me an extra muffin. It warmed my heart.
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Vismarkt, Groningen. —Photo by author |
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A painting of Vismarkt by the author. |
When it rained, I would lie in my camp, just staring at the patterns that the drops would make on the tent. The ground beneath would grow softer and colder. It was disconcerting to know that I would later have to step out into a puddle of mud. And even if it wasn't raining, somehow, my shoes were always covered with mud and grass.
What struck me most was the difference that having an apartment can have on keeping your body warm, and just how cold a person feels when they have nowhere indoors to go. If you are spending entire nights out, the cold somehow seeps into your bones, and remains there. On my days out on the street, I would be wearing a jacket, even after I had gone inside, since the chill from the night before lingered on.
Eventually, I had to find proper housing when winter began to roll around, the cold was becoming unbearable.
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There are many things you don't realise until you have given up everything. My 'homelessness' was not real homelessness, you could say, and I certainly didn't have it as hard as most people do.
But, I like to think that I learned a few things from my minor odyssey out on the streets. I certainly got a different perspective on life. I was taught, for instance, that aggressiveness exists sometimes where there is no need for it. I learned a bit about social hierarchies and how our perceptions change when treating someone of a 'lesser rank', as though they deserve less, or are less human.
Most importantly, it taught me that the smallest act of kindness can make a big difference to someone else, even if it is meant to be nothing more than just a fleeting gesture.