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Wednesday, February 2, 2000
Prague's poor struggle to make it through the night in Dickensian circumstances By Adam B. Ellick Both Iveta and Jan are homeless. If they share goals, it is to survive Prague's brutal winter, find a job and a place to live. The two don't make eye contact. They would seem to be in the same place by chance. But life is not so simple. In March, Iveta and Jan will become parents -- of twins. Their relationship ended abruptly a few months ago when Iveta met another man. But they've agreed to raise their children together. "I don't want to go back to her, because she hurt me a lot," Kolar says. "It's not a good feeling when she's around." Often depicted as inhuman, abrasive or self-indulgent, homeless people like Iveta and Kolar nonetheless suffer middle-class crises, with one fundamental difference. Under Dickensian circumstances, they're forced to focus on staying warm in subfreezing temperatures. Some choose the shelters. Others find temporary refuge in toasty trams. Mike Stannett, director of the Salvation Army's shelter in Prague 7, estimates the capital has more than 3,000 homeless. He says all the city's 500 beds for the homeless, usually costing a nominal fee, are occupied during the winter months. Additional stragglers settle for free spots on wooden chairs and tables. But Stannett says the homeless shouldn't have to resort to trams or tables. There's plenty of unused space in sport halls, churches and empty offices. 'Make it happen' "It's just a matter if someone has the will to make it happen," he says. Each night his own branch is filled with 120 floor patrons. Those are the lucky ones. Jiri Szabo, 23, is less fortunate. Szabo has been homeless for three years. He avoids shelters because he says they require cash he doesn't have. Szabo begs on Charles Bridge. At 9 p.m. with the temperature at -6°C (21°F), he's been at it for three hours. At midnight he'll leave to ride a night tram. On the bridge, Szabo kneels on cardboard, which shields him from layers of ice and snow. He is in a fetal position. His flattened hands touch one another as if he's deep in prayer or meditation. A foot away is a Pringles potato chip carton holding his nightly earnings: 43 Kc ($1.22). "I need money for food, and you can't beg inside," he says. Trams and bruises Unlike many of the homeless, Szabo owns an ID card. But he's been unable to find work since being released three years ago from prison, where he served as a cook for the prisoners. He now hopes to find employment at a restaurant. There, he hopes to cook his favorite dish, svickova -- sirloin in a special cream sauce. "When it's freezing, you can't dream. You just think about what you will eat tomorrow," he says in between frantic shivers. Pavel K. seems a bit warmer. Unlike Szabo, he has a furry winter hat. When first approached, on a side street near Old Town Square, he says it's too cold to talk. But he soon changes his mind. "I can beg for 20 minutes, then I have to walk around for a half hour to keep warm." He has not showered in four days. He avoids the shelters because of the crowds. He, too, prefers the trams. His goal is to rejoin his family. Last year, his ex-wife demanded he leave after he failed to find a job. "The simple view is to blame the homeless," says Miroslav Svara, director of Nadeje's center. "But the unemployment rate is growing, and it brings about broken marriages, more crime, and losing your apartment. A person gets stressed, and this brings about addictions." More than 40 percent of Nadeje's 1998 visitors were drug or alcohol addicts. Then there are the veterans, like Jaroslav Papousek. He's 72 and has been homeless for 10 years. He loiters in Hlavni nadrazi train station. Unable to stand up straight, he says begging brings in about 800 Kc a day, most of which is lost at night, when he's beaten and robbed. Scabs on his face prove his point. "I get beat up 20 times a week. But I was born in Prague and I want to die in Prague. What can I do?" He could walk a few blocks to the Nadeje shelter, as Jan Kolar did last year. And soon Kolar will have twins. "My priority is to get a job as a bodyguard," he says. "Then I can focus on my kids." Adam Ellick's e-mail address is news@praguepost.cz
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