I had just divorced and was looking for short-term accommodation in Brussels. One day, my daughter saw an advertisement on the Josefa Foundation's website...
They were looking for a Dutch-speaking tenant who, in exchange for rent, could provide Dutch language services. I had no idea what the Josefa Foundation was. In March, I had a meeting with Gilbert Granjon, the founder of Josefa. After some hesitation, I sent in my application. On 1 April 2016, I moved into the Josefa House.
At first it was quite an adjustment period. I was the only Dutch-speaking person in a predominantly francophone environment. It was a real discovery. How were people supposed to relate to each other? Who does what? What in the end is Josefa actually? How do you live in a former convent, with people of different origins? A Hungarian, several refugees from Syria and Iraq, Gilbert and his wife, from France, other Belgians... and then the close network of donors, friends, volunteers and passers-by who come to visit. Weekly suppers on Monday. And then, all these other activities...: a book reading, a concert, a group activity, cooking and cleaning together, playing cards, celebrating a birthday... My eyes opened up little by little.
Broadening one’s field of vision
Step by step, I became familiar with a way of life that I did not know. What I received in exchange was worth it. Very reserved at first, I gradually opened up. I contributed to the Dutch-language version of the website and the newsletters. I became acquainted with the vision of the Josefa Foundation. My view of people broadened. I felt more and more involved. It wasn’t always easy, however. Sometimes the conversation would flow naturally; at other times, there were tensions. Living with others under the same roof is first and foremost a learning experience and this entails a lot of ups and downs.
It is also about listening. Am I willing to hear the story of others? Hussein recounts his exile journey from Iraq to Belgium, which lasted several weeks. Hassam and Waleed came to Josefa after many struggles, and initially had to leave behind their wives and children in Syria. There is a sister, Christine, who is going to Iraq. There are so many stories… And I, a convinced atheist, who had renounced all religious affiliation during my adolescence, was confronted with all this religious diversity surrounding me at Josefa.
Mirror
What I have learned most from Josefa is that every person is a mirror. A mirror that gives me the opportunity to learn something about myself. Perhaps I see empathy, warmth, compassion. But perhaps I also see a dark side that I do not like and want to repel. Rejection, selfishness, anger, bitterness, pretension, sadness... How do I act in the presence of the other? What impact does he or she have on me? How do I deal with it? In a positive or negative way? What does the other teach me about myself? Am I ready to leave my own limited comfort zone? Or do I cling to my way of thinking and my beliefs?
Do I open or close my heart to this woman or man in front of me? This other, refugee, migrant, worker of a faraway country? This intellectual, this father, mother, child, bachelor?
Am I able to see a man like me in every face, every story? A migrant who is on his way to an unknown destiny, which I myself do not yet know...
9 months
I lived at the Josefa House for nine months. It was a great and rewarding pregnancy. I created new friendships. I feel grateful for the experience. My stay at Josefa has broadened my view of the world, has made my life more intense, rich and has opened my heart. It has made me stronger to face life with more love and confidence. I thank Gilbert, Annabelle, Matyas, Waleed, Hassam, Lina, Hussein, Ziad, Jessica, Guillaume, Laetitia, Patricia and all the others for this life journey that we shared together.
Jan
