Backdoors

Precious Plastic Version 4 brought people from all around the world together: from week long visits to living for an entire year, the houses we lived in were our beating hearts. We lived in Woensel West, a fading suburb in the north of Eindhoven; among the Turkish families, in between the Dutch households, surrounded by construction.

As residents started leaving, Precious Plastic moved in. House by house. We built new rooms to create space, lifted bricks to reveal soil for our gardens, we built what we needed with what we could find. Every morning we’d ride to the workspace and each night we’d come back: to cook together, discuss big topics, play cards or have everlasting house parties.

We formed our own families but were connected to each other: we were joined by the back alleys, the small roads that were like veins from one Precious Plastic family to another. One house had the washing machine, but another had the internet. We gathered at one house for movie nights, and we were guided to the another house for the late night parties by the music heard from the alleyways.

We were connected to each other by the back doors.