AGING DUTCH JUNKIES GO TO SPECIAL HOME

`Look at this bathroom - it's fantastic! There's even a special low seat in
the shower for when I grow really old,' Carmel exclaimed before turning
toward the window to prepare her heroin.

Carmel, silver-haired and fragile at 53, took her first pills and
amphetamines at 17. She became gradually trapped in the drugs spiral and
began a life on the streets that lasted for years.

Now she sits on a neatly made single bed and injects her drugs while talking
of her past, a handful of postcards of chubby angels and flowers pinned on
the wall above her head. She is one of seven residents in Rotterdam's first
home for elderly drug addicts, which opened its doors in the Dutch port city
in September.

Known for tolerance of drug use, the liberal Netherlands faces a new hurdle
as an increasing number of hard drug addicts survive to a pensionable age.
While selling hard drugs such as heroin and cocaine is unlawful and dealers
are prosecuted, addicts are treated as patients with a chronic health
problem.

Hard drugs users are growing older, and their habit takes its toll. They
often face in their 40s the same problems people normally experience only in
their early 70s.

`They are forgetful, neglect themselves, suffer from insomnia, live in
isolation. They need a place where they can settle down and take their drugs
quietly,' said Trudy de Bruin, administrator of the Boumanhuis home for
elderly addicts.

Their health improves and their use of drugs stabilizes when they no longer
need to go to the street for a fix," de Bruin said.

The home is officially approved and partly funded by the Rotterdam
municipality and health authority. Residents, whose average age is 53,
receive medical care and a daily dose of the heroin substitute methadone.

Screened for good behaviour before being admitted, they are not pressured to
kick their habit. Drug use is accepted - the staff even provide drugs on
request - although house rules stipulate it is allowed only in private
rooms.

`We concluded a few years ago that drying out isn't always the best
solution. Drug use has been part of these people's lives for 20-25 years and
they don't harm anybody,' De Bruin said.

Tenants pay rent and, if they want drugs, they have to pay for them. If they
need more money than they do temporary work, mostly cleaning. In the home,
they do the shopping, cleaning and cooking. Counsellors are on call to
provide help and advice.

Senior junkies opt to live in the Boumanhuis so they no longer have to cope
alone in the outside world. They value the presence of a social worker 24
hours a day. Security and the possibility to use drugs without being
persecuted is also crucial.

`My life used to be like a roller-coaster. In here I'm doing better. I'm no
longer alone, there's always somebody around and knowing that really helps,'
said Carmel.

Life in the home appears calm and quiet, with tenants back in their rooms
in the evening long before the 11 p.m. deadline.

`In the house we lead quiet, ordinary lives, verging on boring sometimes.
People often just want to sit in their room, watch television, read a
newspaper....They discover it's cozy to have a home,' de Bruin explained.

In her room, Carmel, who spends most of her days reading, watching TV,
drawing, writing or knitting, proudly shows off a turquoise dress she has
made.

`I need to go on for a few more inches. It should not be too revealing:
there are five men in the house,' she said, smiling.

A man cleans the sink of the already spotless kitchen while team leader Roy
talks to another addict and grey-haired Fred, 49, plays computer games. `The
Boumanhuis saved my life,' Carmel observes.