Subj: Netherlands: Old junkies never die, they go into a retirement home



Source: The Independent (UK)



Pubdate: 27 Nov 1998



Author: Katherine Butler





Old junkies never die, they go into a retirement home



CHRISTMAS WILL come early this year for

Carlos Prade. In a few weeks' time, Rotterdam's

newest residential home for retired people will be

ready and Carlos will be moving in. Peering

through a pair of funky blue tinted glasses, Carlos

admits he is weary now. He wants to take it easy,

let someone else take the strain. 



Although a fresh-faced 59, he suffers from aches

and pains, his hands are shaking and he speaks in

a whisper. His grip on reality appears tenuous. He

shuffles off mid-conversation and then suddenly

says: "I want to go to England. To see Elizabeth."

Then he breaks into a song. 



In the home, a converted town house, Carlos will

have his own room and bathroom. There will be

television, a communal kitchen for anyone

capable of cooking. Round-the- clock medical

care is guaranteed as well as trained staff to look

after his "psycho-social needs". There will not be

any official supply of dope heroin or cocaine. But

Carlos has no worries on that score. He is about

to become the first resident of the world's first old

folks home for drug addicts. 



The Netherlands has the healthiest drug addicts in

the world. So healthy that they are turning into

pensioners and the authorities have a geriatric

drug policy dilemma on their hands. 



The average age of drug users in the country has

risen to 36, the highest in the world. Thanks to a

policy based on health rather than criminalisation,

that is increasing by 10 months each year. In

Rotterdam alone at least 100 people have made it

to the age bracket of 55 to 70. 



But substance abuse takes its toll and, although

they are living longer, Dutch junkies are old

before their time. "At 55 or 60 they are displaying

symptoms of people 20 years older. Senility is

common. They forget things and feel threatened,"

explained Harry Kuiper of the Boumanhuis

Foundation, one of the biggest drug addiction

agencies in the Netherlands. 



Most old people fret about keeping warm and

getting to the shops and the pension office. But

geriatric junkies have the added stress of having

to hold their own in the drug scene which, even in

an ultra-tolerant society where consumption is not

prosecuted, is run by criminals. Procuring

narcotics, knowing when you are being fobbed

off with inferior stuff and finding enough money to

keep the dealers happy is not that easy when you

have difficulty walking unaided. 



Now, in response to a novel proposal from the

Rotterdam Junkiebond, the drug addicts' union,

the municipal health authority has agreed to

finance an old folks home, devoted exclusively to

drug users, for a one-year pilot scheme. 



"This will be a totally new development not just

for the Netherlands and Europe, but for the

world," said Mr Kuiper, a keen supporter of the

plan. 



It is not on, he says, to integrate the junkies with

ordinary senior citizens because they might have

difficulty finding acceptance. "Most elderly people

would tolerate a person taking a drink or smoking

a cigarette, but just one gram of heroin in an old

people's home and they would want you out." 



Nora Storm, whose idea it was, has already given

the residence a name. "Coconuts. One of the old

men chose it," she said. "He's on coke and he's

nuts". 



A formidable woman in her fifties, Ms Storm is

the Junkiebond president and has turned her own

home over to accommodation for junkies of all

ages. She runs a tight ship. Drugs are allowed in

the rooms but you must show that you are making

an effort to limit consumption and you must find a

job and pay your way. 



The inauguration of Coconuts means she can at

last stop worrying about the grand-daddies as she

calls them. "They can't cope. Their brains are

going and they leave on the gas sometimes. And

they are lonely. The music is not the same these

days. They also have the problem that their

grandchildren won't visit them." 



Initially, the plan is to restrict the home to seven

residents. Out of their pensions they will pay

about UKP180 a month rent. There will be no

pressure to kick the habit. So where will the

drugs come from? "It won't be a problem," is all

Nora will say. She foresees a growing demand

for such homes and insists that it should be up to

the national health service to take over the cost

and running of them. Mr Kuiper agrees. "This is

not an indulgence or an amusement," he said.

"These people need special care." 



The broad-minded Netherlands approach to drug

use is legendary but a national home plan for old

junkies may be a bridge too far. Rotterdam's

health authority is pioneering a controversial

scheme to distribute free heroin to serious addicts

but, even here, the location of the house is being

kept secret. "Neighbours think it will attract

traffickers to the area. But we certainly don't want

it to be in an isolated part of town, cut off from

the community," said Mr Kuiper. 



Local newspapers have been running stories

about how drugs will be delivered each day by

the home's in house dealer. A claim flatly denied

by all involved. "There will be no buying or selling.

Not in the house," Mr Kuiper said. 



"In the end," he sighed, "it all comes down to an

acceptance of drug use. At the heart of this

debate is the question of whether we can accept

elderly people using heroin, even in small

amounts. I'm not sure everyone can. This might

be too much, even for Holland." 



 - Katherine Butler