Pussycat Nina sits on the windowsill as Jaap Uitterdijk (68) lights his second cigarette. In the background, streetcar 19 passes by. Nina thinks everything is fine. She is stuffed.
"I do miss the fact that a cat never jumps on your lap anymore." Having tea with an extraordinary Amsterdammer, who had his biography written down by former volunteer Aart Kraak. They both know each other through De Regenboog Groep.
Aart Kraak (54) was a volunteer at De Regenboog Groep for many years and such a special volunteer that we had spoken to him before.
Another 5 years ago, he interviewed Jaap Uitterdijk for De Zoolmaat magazine (also of De Regenboog Groep). He was allowed only 500 words. That became a challenge, because he had copy for a whole book. That book has since arrived, a hefty biography about an extraordinary Amsterdammer, entitled Not unused return.
Golden Times
Jaap Uitterdijk (68) was born in the Protestant part of Andijk. He grew up in a large family where everything revolved around the store. Jaap's world changed completely when he came out with his homosexuality in a newspaper article in 1968. The next day, on Sunday(!), he was fired from the bank where he worked. Rejected for his homosexuality, even within the family, Jaap decided to work at the Holland America Line, where he celebrated his 21st birthday with gallons of booze. "The booze flowed frequently on board!" he recounts. For fear of becoming an alcoholic, he waved goodbye and moved to Amsterdam, where he had the time of his life.
Puss Nina can't talk about it, because she wasn't alive at the time, but for a moment it seems as if Jaap is giving his stuffed cat a wink, as if to say:But Nina, those were golden times, the seventies and eighties in Amsterdam! Jap was also doing well in business. Jaap became very rich. He stood at the cradle of the Evangelical Pink Celebrations and was a dual councilor for the VVD in Oud West. A psychosis turned his world upside down. Jaap almost lost everything.
Tree-long buddy
.Through De Regenboog he got a buddy: "Then we went out to dinner together, so cozy." He also chaired the client council of De Regenboog Groep for a while. "Amsterdam is lucky to have a club like De Regenboog," he says from his easy chair by the window. Jaap is a happy person, despite his diabetes. Six months ago, his lower right leg was amputated. Fortunately, he has his mobility scooter. And lucky he has Aart, his faithful ghostwriter.
Aart (left): "Now we don't see each other for the book, but we remain friends."
"I spent a lot of days here," says Aart. The tree-length buddy just has to get used to not having to take notes today. "Always when I was here, I would sit on the couch with my laptop on my lap and let Jaap tell the story. Then I went to a cottage near the Vinkeveen lakes for two weeks and turned all those notes into this book. What fascinates me most about Jaap are the many lives he has had. From accountant in Andijk to VVD councilor in Amsterdam Oud West. And everything in between. Now we no longer see each other for the book, but we remain friends, as I have remained friends with all my old buddies. We should have a sandwich again soon, don't you think Jaap?"
The bell rings.
As Aart gets up to open the front door, he unhappily bumps his head against the chandelier, dropping a few pebbles on the table.
"It was your drug dealer," he laughs a moment later, handing Jaap the paper bag of medicine.
"I swallow myself to death," Jaap says and fishes three boxes out of the bag. "All for my diabetes."
Aart grabs the boxes and places them next to the pebbles.
Stones
.Then a brief silence. Jaap takes a sip of tea. His hands shake a little. He begins to talk about the moments in his life when he hallucinated, like that one night when he called the animal ambulance. A brick had gone through his window. His three cats he had taken to safety. They were covered in blood with their paws. Nina he had locked in the bathroom, the other two cats in the bedroom. Not much later, animal ambulance workers were in the living room, where they found Jaap distraught. One of the gentlemen stroked the windows with his hand. Then he looked at the ground. There was no glass anywhere. Nor was there any stone. Jaap was hallucinating. He suffers from it more often, he says, and takes another sip of his tea. How this came to be, Aart Kraak makes beautifully understandable in the biography he wrote about this extraordinary Amsterdammer.
Not Unused Returns can be ordered from Bol.com.
By Nicolline van der Spek / Photography Merlin Michon
Like Aart, becoming a buddy at De Regenboog?
Cover of t book Not unused return