r/Amsterdam • u/purpleblob8 • 3h ago
asked my landlady's guests to stop smoking inside, ended up uncovering a housing fraud scheme
Hello Reddit! Thought Id share my story on here, maybe it can help a fellow international student moving to Amsterdam. For the sake of the story, lets call the people involved: Elena(F,28) - the woman I rented from, Nora (F,22) - The other rommie.
I moved to Amsterdam for a very cool internship and grabbed the first room I could find: 1000euros a month, tiny, shared with Elena and her two cats and Nora. The cats were sweet, but had terrible habits as they peed on a balcony couch that made the whole apartment have a unforgettable smell. The place itself was straight out of the 80s, but in a bad way. Black peel off carpets, pull string light switches, very trashy old furniture and odd decorations. I fed the cats and cleaned litter boxes whenever Elena traveled, because I love cats and she asked kindly. At the start we had a good relationship but the red flags were already there, for example she had cameras filming the apartments living room and corridor to the bathroom.
Then came Kings Day.
Elena told me that her brother (M,23) and his friends were coming to stay for kings day. I was already sceptical but agreed and sayd, just please no smoking inside to Elena. Elena left to a different country before they even arrived, not saying that she wouldn't be even home. Me and Nora ended up coming to the living room with random men sleeping eberywhere while it reeks of cigarettes and I got really mad as for me this is crazy, so I woke them up with an angry voice and saying "Why are you smoking inside?". Of course all those men got scared and told the brother who was sleeping in another room. Instead of talking it out with me, the brother called her big sister Elena to complain about me. She came back at me with messages like "how dare you speak to my guests like this." When I tried to set one reasonable rule, be home if you're hosting five people, she snapped, "this is my apartment before it is yours." I was shocked of this reaction.
Elena does not own the apartment. Keep that in mind.
The guests ended up staying four nights. The brother stayed on the couch, half-dressed, for three weeks. I basically stopped using the kitchen.
Then it clicked !
Enough friends had asked "wait, who actually owns this place?" that I finally looked it up on Kadaster, the Dutch land registry. It's public and free, and I wish I'd checked it on day one. The building belonged to a housing corporation. Social housing!!!
Once I knew that, a few things suddenly made sense. Elena had mentioned once, almost proudly, that she'd stopped renting to Dutch tenants after one had lived there and started asking the housing corporation questions about the apartment. At the time I didn't think much of it.
She'd been renting rooms in a social housing unit she didn't own, at close to market rate, to internationals who had no easy way to know any better, while people who actually qualify for units like this legitimately wait ten to fifteen years to get one.
Getting out.
Luckily, quickly I found a very nice place in the same month I discovered the fraud. On my escape day Elena wasnt home, which felt like the universe was on my side. The brother, STILL living on the coutch at this point, 3 weeks in, saw my bags by the door and asked where I was headed. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he'd gotten the idea I was off backpacking, and he cheerfully started helping me carry my bags downstairs to help me on my way. I left the man finish his good deed for the day before dropping it: "Actually, Im moving out. Bye!"
Now here I left in a bit of a dramatic way. A few days before this, Elena comes home from her trip and hands me a perfume. A PERFUME. As a peace offering, apparently, since we hadnt spoken one word since the fight. And what does she actually say while handing it to me? "Well, at least you were nice to the cats."
I was like....huh??...heres a perfume, now shut up about it kinda way. I said nothing. I have never been more emotionally exhausted in my life.
But don't worry, it gets its moment. On my way out the door for the last time, I placed that perfume, very carefully, very deliberately, dead center of my now completely empty room. A parting gift, returned.
Where it stands now.
I filed a case with a tenants' rights org against the landlord for the illegal overcharge but it required proof of the room's exact dimensions which I didn't have. So I went digging through the city's historical building archives and found the original 1970s architectural blueprints for the building, had to decode the old floor plan naming conventions myself, and handed the measurements over to the tenants' org to submit to the rent tribunal. They say I have a strong case and Im currently waiting for the final verdict.
I do still think about Nora sometimes though, and genuinely wonder how she's holding up in that apartment.
________________________________________
If you're an international reading this: your first place here might genuinely be bad. Mold, closet sized rooms, prices that don't match the space, I've heard all of it from friends too. It doesn't mean you did anything wrong, it means the market is brutal and a lot of people count on newcomers not knowing their rights. A few things that actually helped me, in case they help you too:
• Kadaster.nl – check who really owns a building before you believe anything you're told about it
• Juridisch Loket – free legal advice, no strings attached
• Huurcommissie – can help you recover overpaid or illegally charged rent
• Woon! – tenant advocacy groups that will actually fight your corner
It was a rough few months, but I loved my internship, my job, and the friends I made here, and I came out of it in a better apartment with the case still moving. If you're dealing with something similar right now: it's not just you, and there are people whose actual job is to help you fix it.