I have housing!

What a lucky duck I am

I’ve always considered myself a lucky person. I mean, I’ve been through some shit. Lost people dear to me, had some health issues, and had a rough time coming to peace with myself. But through all that, I had these moment of awe when good things happened in the most unlikely ways.

On a long walk in the countryside near Harfsen, in the east

Most recently, I got super duper lucky with housing here in the Netherlands. I’ve heard the stories of applying to 130 homes before getting a lease, paying real estate agent exorbitant fees to facilitate the process, and bouncing around in temporary housing for months until something comes up. There are 400,000 more people looking for housing than there are houses in this country. It’s a problem throughout Europe, but especially acute in this densely populated nation.

Before this trip to Amsterdam, I found a site listing co-living places looking for a resident. I applied to a few openings with a chatty introduction to myself. I got a response from one listing, saying it was too bad I was still in the US because they were doing interviews this weekend, but they’d keep me posted.

The nearby town of Lochem, glowing in the late afternoon light.

In the meantime I registered and paid for several home search sites and looked everyday, applying to dozens with a similar introductory email. I wasn’t very hopeful because most owners won’t rent if you don’t have current income, so I thought it would be a long shot. Luckily—there’s that word again—I had connected with a cousin of a friend who lives in the east of the country, and he’d offered to house me until I found something permanent. So the pressure was off, to some degree.

And then, soon after I arrived in Amsterdam, the same co-living group reached out and said they hadn’t found the right person and could I stop by for an interview. Yes! So I did, and long story short, I have a place to live! This is not just lucky. This is super duper incredible.

The Proosdij in Deventer is the oldest stone house in the Netherlands, from 1130.

Tomorrow I will stop by to see them, talk details, and meet others in the building, which was recently constructed especially for adults in co-living apartments. It has a tiny car park and a massive fietsenstalling (bicycle parking area) and is right next to a metro station. I won’t spill any details on my future housemates, except to say that they’re my age, and lovely, kind people.

Another view from my walk

So yes, I’m lucky, in so many ways. Much of my luck is pure luck—born to white, educated parents with financial resources in the US. And some of my luck is what some people have called “when preparation meets opportunity.” I think that to some degree, you make your own luck. And the rest is serendipity.

And for all of it, I’m grateful. So far, things have fallen into place quite nicely. It feels like I’m on the right track.