"I Spent Two Winters in Abandoned Houses" – Homeless People Share Their Daily Lives

It wasn’t me, but my mother who lived homeless as a child. She and her two siblings never knew their father, and one day their mother decided to move to Budapest. From then on, they lived here without a home. She said that during the day they returned shopping carts in the Tesco parking lot and bought food with the few coins they collected. At night, they found their mother in a pub and slept either in some abandoned house or at the apartment of a current male acquaintance. When she told me this as a child, I thought it was some kind of adventure, but as an adult, I realized how harsh the conditions were for my mother and her two uncles growing up.

Of course, with work. Most homeless people actually have jobs—they just don’t have a place to live. The mostly drunk people you see on the street are only a small part of the homeless community. I broke up with my boyfriend and he kicked me out of the apartment. Luckily, I worked at a gym where I could shower. I took on as many shifts as possible. The best was when I closed and opened the gym, so I could sleep there without anyone knowing. I was ashamed of my situation, so I kept it a secret that I had nowhere to live. When I couldn’t stay there, I crashed at friends’ places. It was a tough time, but eventually, I saved enough for a deposit and rented a room.

When I was heavily into drugs, I was homeless for a few years. From spring to autumn, it was manageable because we slept in parks or abandoned buildings. But in winter, we moved from one friend’s rundown apartment to another to survive the cold months. Our only goal during the day was to get the substance and get high—that was our whole life.

Days were easier: you go here, you go there, you study, you work. I spent a lot of time in the library, for example. Nights were the hardest—when everyone goes home, and you’re left alone on the street. It feels like the weight of the world’s darkness is pressing down on you. But there were some good moments too. For instance, I had a small portable gas stove (until it got stolen), and I managed to cook surprisingly good dinners on it. I made rice with vegetables, occasionally some meat, and even pancakes.

I was relatively lucky because I had a car, so I didn’t have to sleep on the street. But the car wasn’t a dream either. In summer, it was like an oven, but I never dared to roll down the windows much to avoid anyone reaching in. I had to cover every window so no one could see inside—I made cardboard window covers with Velcro to secure them. So, in summer you almost suffocate, and in winter you freeze. Still, it was better than sleeping under the open sky.

When I couldn’t regularly clean myself, wash my hair, or get my clothes cleaned, all chances of getting hired vanished. That was my lowest point. I literally rummaged through trash bins, but not just anywhere—if a "rival" dumpster diver noticed me, they usually chased me away. People throw away a lot of still-edible food, so at least I wasn’t starving.

When my boyfriend suddenly broke up with me and kicked me out—after I had renovated his entire house with my own money over two years—a friend invited me to move in with her. We agreed I’d fix up her apartment too, and I did. I lived there for a year and a half, renovating every room beautifully. It was good for me because I didn’t feel like a burden, and it kept me busy. It was good for her too, because her home turned out great.

It was awful. Some days I just wandered the city aimlessly. Sometimes I got on a bus and rode until the conductor came. It’s a terrible feeling not to have anywhere to go because you literally have nowhere. You feel like your life means nothing. It was very hard to climb out of that hole.

I lived like a hermit and survived two winters in an abandoned house. Back then, you could still make some money by taking paper or metal to recycling centers, so my days were spent doing that. I didn’t drink or do drugs, so I didn’t mix with other homeless people.

When I was a university student, I had nowhere to live. I studied during the day and worked afternoons and evenings. Sometimes I slept at work, sometimes in a friend’s dorm bed while they were in class. After graduation, I tried with a women’s support organization, and they helped me find a place until I saved enough to rent a room.

Photos: istockphoto.com