When social worker Javier Irure called to tell him he would be deported, the 65-year-old Spaniard had no idea that after five decades of manual labor, he would become homeless.
“I grabbed a sheet, put what I could clothes, a few books and something else, and I said to myself, ‘I have a roof to stay, my car,” said Irure of his old Renault Clio in which he sheltered for the past three months.
Irure is one of the many indirect victims of the pandemic. He is not infected with COVID-19, but the economic slowdown caused by movement restrictions and social interaction that the authorities have put in place to control the spread of the coronavirus proved deadly to his financial stability.
Irure, who started working as an errand boy in a hotel at the age of 13, was working as a professional cleaner when the pandemic struck, leaving him without a source of income. It was not long before he was evicted from the apartment he rented.
He tried to get help from the state social services, but to no avail. He is currently receiving support from the local humanitarian aid group Aid Mutua.
“Like a pendulum swinging back and forth from window to window, of calls that never answer, of vague promises,” said Irure, referring to his efforts to get help from the official bureaucracy.
Spain has been hit particularly hard by the pandemic due to its heavy reliance on tourism and the service sector.
The country’s left-wing government has maintained a temporary licensing program to mitigate the impact, yet more than a million jobs have been lost.
While family unity in Spain has been a mainstay for many who would otherwise have gone unnoticed, efforts to keep people locked up have strained family relationships and divorce rates have soared. The fact that many houses have fallen apart has allowed more people to stand on their own two feet to do what they can.
Catholic humanitarian aid organization Caritas Española said this month that about half a million more people, 26% of whom are helping, have sought support since the pandemic started a year ago.
Caritas has opened 13 new centers with a capacity of 1,400 people dedicated to supporting the homeless since the coronavirus arrived in the country.
Juan Jiménez also has to live in his used Ford for almost a year.
Jiménez, 60, saw his life fall apart when he and his wife bought a bigger house, but mortgage payments got out of hand and their marriage collapsed. She donated the 620 euros that she has received in government support in recent months to her seven children.
“I dream of having all my kids under one roof, but it makes more sense to be here,” he said. “They made their lives and I would be a hindrance.”
Jiménez and Irure move their cars from one parking lot to another on the outskirts of the northern city of Pamplona, where they once had homes. They do this to prevent them from standing out and becoming a nuisance to residents.
“When I wake up in the morning, I wonder, ‘What am I doing here? Jiménez said from his car, which is full of clothes, blankets and bags full of everything he owns.
“We are like invisible beings. Nobody wants to look at us. Nobody wants to hear from us. We don’t exist, ”he complained.