“I make sure I survive, somehow”: For the homeless community, the pandemic isn’t over

For those living on the street, Covid-19 remains a worry. Where care and counseling facilities still operate under restrictions, the need among those affected has grown in the last two years, and poverty reported by homeless assistance organizations is increasingly visible. A growing sense of resignation is also noticeable. Dortmund street paper bodo talked to four rough sleepers about their current experiences.

Story by Sebastian Sellhorst und Alexandra Gehrhardt

Photos by Sebastian Sellhorst

Courtesy of bodo / International Network of Street Papers

Photo: Sebastian Sellhorst

In contrast to a year ago, when NGOs and volunteers worked together with the City of Dortmund authorities to stem the tide of homelessness during the height of the pandemic, the communal management of Covid-19 in this field seems in many ways to have gone back to normal. Working with the tensions around vaccination and testing - the so-called “3G”: geimpft (vaccinated) getestet (tested) genesen (recovered) – agencies have to find their own ways of regulating access, applying hygiene regulations, and maintaining their services as best they can, whilst also managing budgets stripped to the bone and stretched staffing resources.

In the public realm, there is a growing sense of frustration and repression. Tradespeople and local residents are getting angry at the presence of rough sleepers, some of whom are themselves reporting hostile public order patrols, whole-day banning orders, and fines for breaches of the law which wouldn’t happen if they had somewhere to live. Those who can’t pay the fines may in extreme cases face imprisonment.

The city authorities insist that they can offer everyone overnight accommodation. This is formally true, but in practice, the bureaucratic hurdles – such as the demand that Dortmund’s rough sleepers agree to “co-operate”, currently by showing evidence of a negative PCR test taken at the quarantine facilities on the southern edge of the city – are so difficult to surmount that many fail to do so. Others avoid the accommodation offered because they don’t want to risk getting infected in a multi-bed dormitory, so they prefer to stay on the streets, which in winter is risking their lives.

Daniel

I’ve pitched my tent in a little wood just outside of town. It’s dead quiet out there, just a couple of people walking their dogs every morning, but they know me by now. At the beginning, it was tough, because I didn’t have enough kit, but I’m OK now. I’ve put two insulating mats under the tent, and a thick one inside it, which I sleep on. And I’ve got a massive sleeping bag. So, with all that lot, I’m not freezing at night anymore. But you need all that right from the start, and I didn’t at first, so I used to doss down in the little hut on the children’s playground. The cops came twice, one time because I’d made a fire and the other time they were looking for somebody else. Both times they left me alone. In the mornings I walk into town, get some breakfast at the pub. After that, I meet up with a few others here in town. I’ve been done a few times in the city center. I got fined 170 Euros twice for not wearing a mask, and twice they fined me 78 Euros 50 for possession because I rolled myself a joint. It’s stupid, they fine you the same amount whether it’s weed or crack you’re smoking. The public order people delivered the letter to me. They came round, went through their list, and shoved the letter into my hand. Of course, I can’t pay the fine. I don’t get any dole money, do I? I just take empty bottles back for the deposit and make sure I survive, somehow.

Peter

I don’t sleep outside anymore, I just can’t do it. It used to be ok, but I’m over 70 now. I spend nights at my brother’s and during the day I’m down here in the precinct, or in the pub, or something.

This stuff here isn’t mine. There’s been a woman sleeping here for the past few weeks, right in the doorway of this empty shop. But I don’t know what she’s really doing. Sometimes she sleeps here till the afternoon. But I’ve not seen her for the past three days. I think she’s got a boyfriend and she sleeps at his place sometimes. She’s not all there really, either. When she goes off, she always leaves her money behind in her bowl. It’s only a matter of time before somebody pinches it because I’m not here all the time to keep an eye out. I’m surprised they haven’t cleared all her stuff away, she leaves so much of it lying around.

Birgit

I was properly on the streets for four weeks. I’d just come out of the hospital. I’d been ill for a long time. Cancer. My life partner at the time pushed me out the door, said goodbye. So the relationship was well and truly over. He must have thought to himself, now the kids have left, she can go as well. He was probably scared he’d have to look after me or something.

So I was homeless and skint. I went down to the precinct and plonked myself down in a shop doorway and started collecting empties for the deposits because I didn’t know what else to do. At some point, my brother found out I was sleeping on the streets and was totally horrified. You can’t really call it sleeping, though. You just sit there, cowering, hoping it will get light soon and that nobody does anything to you in the meantime. So my brother let me live at his place.

Someone else sleeps there now, where I was. Another older woman. I was so glad to get away from there. You risk your life out there. I still collect empties, and I get my breakfast in the mornings at the pub. That’s where I meet all the others who sleep outside. A lot of them give me the impression that they’ve completely given up and don’t want to be helped. But I always say life’s a struggle. Somehow you’ve got to carry on.

Sascha

My lateral flow test was positive. And I really wasn’t feeling well yesterday. I should have been isolating. But how am I supposed to do that, on the streets? I went round to the men’s hostel and asked for a PCR test. They told me I had to go to the quarantine place in Hohensyburg. That’s all they said. But I can’t take all my stuff over there. But if I leave it, the rubbish collection people will come and take it all away. And I can’t just get on a bus if I’m positive, can I? What am I supposed to do? Can I get in trouble for not isolating?

The place I usually sleep, there’s always lots of people. I can only go there when there’s nobody around anymore. I slept somewhere else yesterday, in town. So the public order people caught me this morning straight away. Three of them, there were. Sent me away, saying I was loitering. I’ll have to wait and see if I get a fine. 

All names have been changed.

Translated from German by Peter Bone