“We live in bags” | The Press

Guylaine Faust is 64 years old. She worked in restaurants all her life. She is currently a cook in the cafeteria of a secondary school. And since July, she has also been homeless.

No one around him knows about it. To her brothers, to her 96-year-old father, she said nothing. No more than to his colleagues. “It’s not something you announce with joy and cheerfulness, so I’d rather not talk about it. I’m old enough to fend for myself. »

M^me Faust is one of a growing number of Quebec seniors who are literally thrown onto the street by the housing crisis. According to the latest count, published in 2023, 36% of people experiencing homelessness in Quebec were over 50 years old in 2022. They were 32% in 2018.

“There are more and more people, increasingly older, who find themselves homeless for the first time. We have seen more of it since the pandemic. It was disastrous for the people who were isolated,” observes Alex-Ann Leclerc Mangana, worker at Pas de la rue, an organization dedicated to people over 55 who find themselves in precarious situations.

Guylaine Faust sips coffee in a small lounge at the Refuge de Laval, where she has lived since November. Her situation has been critical for a longer time, “it’s been misery since the pandemic,” she summarizes.

On March 13, 2020, she lost her job in a restaurant in Longueuil, marking the end of a career in catering that she had started at the age of 15 at her uncle’s pizzeria, in Crabtree, in Lanaudière.

During the health crisis, she received PCU, then social assistance. Last year, she shared a $1,500-a-month five and a half with a couple of friends. The couple separated and Guylaine had to leave in July.

All summer and part of the fall, she wandered from shelter to shelter in Montreal. Until one evening in November, when she couldn’t find a place. She slept in the car of a 75-year-old woman, also newly homeless. “We froze,” she said. The next day, she landed in Laval.

Guylaine Faust is not the type to give up. A month ago, she found a job at Georges-Vanier high school, not too far from the shelter. Every morning, she gets up before the sun, empties the room that was assigned to her the day before, and takes the bus. It was only upon her return that she received confirmation that she would have a place for the night. She changes rooms every day. “We live in bags. »

The 60-year-old works 30 hours a week and earns $16 an hour. She only receives $222 per month in pensions, since her former employers rarely declared their employees. Despite her new job, which she loves, she still can’t find an apartment within her price range.

“There isn’t,” she said simply. Even the rooms to rent often exceed one’s budget. And then, she’s not keen on the idea of ​​moving in with a stranger. However, she remains hopeful. “On a good day, I’ll find something, then I’ll move.” That’s all. »

Crowd of elderly people

The case of Guylaine Faust is far from being unique at the Laval Refuge, says coordinator Mathieu Frappier.

“It’s the crack of the housing crisis that has arrived,” he relates. When I see the RPAs closing, I know where all these people are going to go. They will meet here! » On the day of our interview with Guylaine, “4 or 5” elderly people were staying at the 45-place resource, he specifies.

Deputy general director of CAP St-Barnabé, a shelter in eastern Montreal, Marjolaine Despars also notes the aging of her clientele. Last Friday, around ten people over the age of 75 occupied the shelter’s 350 beds, including an 83-year-old man. “The lack of housing combined with the aging of the population is the perfect combo to lead to a crisis,” notes M^me Leave.

To better serve the increasing number of users using walkers or canes, CAP St-Barnabé tries to install them as close as possible to the showers. “But it’s clearly not an optimal location. Even less for those who have significant health problems,” recognizes M.^me Leave.

The hard life of a shelter

Arriving from Algeria more than 30 years ago, Ferhat Aberkan, 60, has worked all his life in Quebec in the restaurant industry. “I never stopped working. I’ve paid taxes my whole life! »

In 2020, he suffered a work accident which seriously injured his back. He received sums from the CNESST for two years, but thereafter lived only on his modest retirement income. For 20 years, he lived in a four and a half room apartment in Plateau-Mont-Royal. He paid $727 a month.

In 2021, his owner contacted him: he wanted to make major renovations to his home. He initially refuses, but in 2023, he finally agrees to terminate his lease. The landlord allows him to stay, without paying rent for eight months, until December 2023.

“But at this time, I can’t find accommodation. It’s impossible to find something for the price I can pay! ” 1^er December 2023, at the end of his resources, he ended up at the homeless shelter set up at the Hôtel-Dieu during the pandemic.

Because Ferhat Aberkan is a thousand miles from the traditional clientele of shelters, and what he sees there upsets him. “There are a lot of drugs there. Every evening there are battles, violence, the police arrive. A week after I arrived, in the morning, there were a lot of police… one of the men in a room was dead. It really got to me. »

Mr. Aberkan was able to count on the help of people from the Pas de la rue organization. First step: a request to social assistance, which recognized that the man had a severe employment constraint and granted him $500 per month. With this new financial contribution, he plans to find accommodation. “I’m really hoping to find something for March. Really, I can’t take it anymore. »

“A significant state of distress”

Audrey Prud’homme, speaker at Pas de la rue, helped Mr. Aberkan in his efforts. She sees more and more seniors struggling with housing issues.

When seniors cannot find housing, “they find themselves in a significant state of distress. They don’t sleep well, they don’t eat anymore. They only have that in mind. It’s extremely painful not to know where we’re going to sleep tomorrow,” underlines her colleague Roselyne Morier. Finding themselves in a shelter, “it’s quite a shock, they experience a lot of distress, they face aggression, mental health problems… it can be quite traumatic,” she adds.

Despite himself, Mario Chartrand joined the ranks of these homeless seniors last January. The 62-year-old man left the HLM he occupied in Montreal for different reasons. Presence of cockroaches and bedbugs, considerable congestion… Unable to find affordable accommodation, he ended up at the Cap St-Barnabé refuge in Hochelaga-Maisonneuve. He has lived there since 1^er FEBRUARY.

Suffering from arthritis and osteoporosis, Mr. Chartrand does not hide it: living in a shelter is difficult. “My body hurts. This is not obvious. But I have no other options at the moment,” he says.

Every evening, he swallows a cocktail of medications, including sleeping pills, to be able to sleep in the dormitory of 60 people where he occupies a bed. “That’s a nasty choir, lucky I’m taking sleeping pills!” “, he said.

Mr. Chartrand was a cook in the past and also gave shows. He didn’t have an easy life. Ten years ago, a fire threw him onto the street from one of the homes he occupied with his partner. He lived in hotels. Bedrooms. Then a HLM.

Living on social assistance, his plan is to stay at the shelter “for a while” longer, just to put money aside to find housing.

“My wildest dream is a big three and a half, not expensive. »