Reijo has no fixed abode

Helsingin Sanomat spent 24 hours with one of Helsinki's homeless, Reijo Rinne

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By Merituuli Ahola
     
      A burly security guard at the Sörnäinen Metro station approaches 54-year-old Reijo Rinne and barks: "What are you loitering here for?"
     
At 7 a.m. commuters are going to work. Reijo is standing at the top of an escalator leading to the platforms of the underground station. He is wearing a dark green coat, straight trousers and a black cap, revealing a bit of tousled hair around the edges.
      In his wallet Reijo has a 30-day Helsinki public transport pass. It brings security: Reijo cannot be removed from a tram or the Metro, since he has a valid ticket.
      Reijo is homeless. He used to be a truck driver, but has not had work in years. He has his eye on a small apartment, but his pension of EUR 800 a month is not enough for the rent guarantee.
     
Reijo's life took a nosedive in 1994 when he got divorced. He left behind 19 years of marriage, a wife, and three children.
      Reijo started to drink and spent all of his money on alcohol. "I would have sold the shirt off my back for booze", he recalls. He could not pay his rent and was evicted from his apartment.
      Reijo rented a small room in a Salvation Army dormitory in Kallio, where he has been residing for the past few years.
     
Life in the dormitory became difficult. Reijo has type-2 diabetes and has to inject insulin twice a day. Needles are a valuable commodity in the dormitory; Reijo would have got 20 euros for a jar of used hypodermics. He refused to sell his needles and left to live on the street last summer.
      If Reijo could get three wishes, he would want to be healthy and to have an apartment. Only later does he reveal that his third wish would be to get his wife back.
      Reijo has been sober for five years already. He is so adamant about keeping away from drinkers that he does not even attend the Salvation Army day centre's morning sauna. "It's just a bunch of winos that go there."
      Reijo heads for the South Harbour. The Silja Line terminal is warm, and best of all, there is a free toilet.
     
It is noon and Reijo is hungry. Not famished, but hungry anyway. He heads for the Kallio neighbourhood. On Toinen Linja there is a meeting place called Elokolo, where the Finnish Association for Healthy Lifestyles offers free porridge. Reijo comes here every day, and often the porridge is his only warm meal of the day.
      On Monday there are a handful of people sitting at the round tables of Elokolo. Everyone is silent. On the TV there is a quiz show hosted by Susanna Tervaniemi, and after that, an infomercial.
      In the corner of the room a grey-haired lady, Kati Sinenmaa, is reading the daily paper. Kati is something of a homeless celebrity. Several newspaper articles have been written about her, and now even a television documentary. Kati moved into the forest a few years ago.
      Reijo gets invited to the premiere of Kati's documentary that same evening in Katajanokka. Reijo is excited. He has not been to the movies for 20 years.
      After browsing through the newspapers and magazines in Elokolo, Reijo glues address labels onto the new Asukki magazine. Then he heads for the library. It is warm and quiet, and there are lots of war novels to read.
     
At five in the afternoon Reijo runs into another homeless man, Pepe. Pepe has a long beard and a lively disposition. Pepe is displeased because someone has broken into his lodgings and taken his tranquilisers.
      Pepe wants to move to Tallinn, where living is less expensive, and Finnish social security benefits go further.
      Reijo thinks Pepe's plan makes sense. He listens intently, until the men begin to argue. The argument is about whether or not female visitors need to be reported to the personnel at the dormitory during the night. Pepe thinks they do, Reijo thinks they do not.
      An hour later the spat has calmed down, and the men are sitting in the auditorium of the Finnish Film Archive. Kati is on the screen. After the film there are small Karelian pies and olives available in the lobby. There is also wine, but Reijo drinks only mineral water.
     
At half past nine a loose and somewhat menacing group has gathered on Vaasankatu. Kalkkers, a night café for the homeless, opens in half an hour, but one needs to arrive early to get in. Only the first 15 are admitted. The rest have to seek shelter for the night elsewhere.
      If he cannot get into Kalkkers, Reijo sleeps in a stairway. Someone has suggested that committing a crime might be a good idea. You could get into jail for the winter.
      When the door of the night café opens at ten p.m., the crowd starts pushing and jostling to get inside. The line is long, and many are left outside. Reijo gets in.
      The night café is crowded. A middle-aged man sits next to Reijo. He has used drugs for 34 years and lives off dealing amphetamine. He is proud about not having been sent to prison for six years. He has spent a third of his life behind bars. His longest sentence was for manslaughter, attempted manslaughter, and aggravated assault.
     
At midnight the police come to take those left outside to jail for the night. The ones dozing by the tables are asked if they want to join them. The cells would offer a proper bed and breakfast in the morning. Nobody wants to leave the café.
      At two a.m. Pekka sits down next to Reijo. Pekka is a former policeman. He has tried to arrange an apartment for himself for a long time. Now he has one in sight, but he cannot afford the rental deposit. This has made Pekka bitter. His anger is directed at the Social Services Department.
      At three a.m. an argument erupts between Reijo and Pekka. Reijo locks himself into the toilet to shave and brush his teeth. Pekka leaves the café.
      Reijo cannot get any sleep all night.
      There is still a queue outside the café at 5 a.m. Neighbours have been throwing bottles at the people waiting outside. The employees ask some of the homeless to give up their spot inside. "The Metro will start running soon." The ones freezing outside should get into the warm café, even if it is only for an hour.
     
Reijo gives up his place and heads out. There is not a single car on Helsinginkatu.
      Reijo gets some coffee at the railway station. Kalkkers has closed, as has the night shelter on Hitsaajankatu. You can tell this from the bearded men with plastic shopping bags gathering at the railway station.
      Reijo sits on a long bench next to the main entrance. There are four grubby men sleeping on the bench. At seven a.m. Reijo falls asleep. He has decided to stay on the bench until he gets removed by the guards.
     
Helsingin Sanomat / First published in print 17.10.2005

More on this subject:
 An amazing turn of events

Previously in HS International Edition:
  Cold Snap: Enemy #1 of the street-people (8.3.2005)

MERITUULI AHOLA / Helsingin Sanomat
merituuli.ahola@hs.fi