‘What is a village without a supermarket?’ they say in the countryside

When Gerhard Venhuizen (70) walks his dog, he sometimes doesn’t meet anyone. He has lived all his life in Ulrum, a village in the province of Groningen with about 1,500 inhabitants. He used to see other residents on their way to the supermarket or visitors to the nursing home during such a stroll in the shopping street. But those facilities disappeared. Venhuizen: “It is now a bit of a sleeping village. You don’t do anything about it.”

Suzan Christiaanse (38) conducted research at the University of Groningen into the loss of facilities in rural areas and what that does to residents. She received her PhD at the beginning of this month. She examined data on general practitioners, primary schools, supermarkets, food specialty stores, libraries, sports halls and clubs, restaurants, cafes, hairdressers and beauticians in the Northern Netherlands over a twenty-year period, from 1995 to 2015. Only the number of hairdressers and beauticians grew. Everything else decreased.

Her research shows that the closure of such facilities can cause or exacerbate a general sense of loss among residents. Take the supermarket: when Christiaanse first came to Ulrum in May 2015, the local Spar was still open for a month. The impending closure of the only supermarket in the village led to unrest. An older woman burst into tears when Christiaanse came to the door with her questionnaire.

“People find that threat the worst. Then comes acceptance. The intermediate phase can be very long and turbulent. Everything around you changes and you have no control over it,” says Christiaanse in a café in Winsum, about fifteen kilometers away. The only café in Ulrum is closed on this day.

‘Now you always have to go to Leens’

Of the 312 residents who completed the questionnaire, 85 percent rated the supermarket closure as negative, while only 72 percent shopped there at least once a week. “A local supermarket means more than its primary function,” says Christiaanse. “Closure is seen as a loss for others or for the entire community rather than as a personal loss. A village should have a supermarket, residents said. Because what is a village without a supermarket?”

The supermarket is also what Gerhard Venhuizen misses the most. “The convenience of being able to walk there. Now you always have to go to Leens.” That village, about two and a half kilometers away, is not far at all, Christiaanse notes. “Less than five minutes by car. You can also cycle it. But people mind if there is no longer a meeting place. The super is a neutral and informal place. You meet everyone there.”

A shopping bus now visits the village twice a week. Caithy de Vries-Steigstra (31) gets as many as possible. “Otherwise the bus will disappear too.” She is with son Fábián (1) in the buggy on the way to the playgroup to pick up son Vinny (3). It is pleasant to live in Ulrum. “People take care of each other here.” The most important thing for her is that the playgroup and the school remain open. “If they close, you have to go to the next village by car.”

Not everyone minds living in a village without facilities, says Christiaanse. “Some people think it’s fine if a village has nothing else. But there are also many people who choose to live in a lively place with a school and a shop. If they close, they will be very sorry.”

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‘Downward spiral’

A village without facilities is not necessarily an unliveable village. “Previous studies show that they can still be experienced as very liveable, because residents are satisfied with the home, the neighborhood and the accessibility of work. But if we keep repeating that it is not livable, then that is a self-fulfilling prophecy,” says Christiaanse.

She advises to stop talking about ‘a downward spiral’, where the population shrinks, facilities disappear and the quality of life decreases. “If statements are repeated often enough, they can eventually be perceived as true by policymakers, journalists, politicians, researchers and residents.”

resident of UlrumOedse Tol My wife leaves here alone between six planks

In Ulrum, the post office, the police station, the doctor’s practice, the pharmacy, two of the three primary schools, the greengrocer, the library, a clothing store and the bicycle repair shop closed in twenty years.

Oedse Tol (77) has seen it all happen. In front of the entrance to the bicycle shed of his residential complex, he lists what else has disappeared since his arrival in 1986. One of the four petrol pumps remains, and one of the three choirs as well. The shooting club is gone. He has to go to Leens for a doctor and pharmacy. What if he no longer drives a car? His wife does not have a driver’s license. “If you get something, you are dependent on others.”

Swimming pool in Finsterwolde

Sometimes he takes neighbors to the doctor by car. If his bicycle is broken, a neighbor fixes it. “We have to help each other here,” says Tol. He thinks it’s a shame that the facilities are disappearing, but that’s no reason to leave Ulrum. “Two daughters live in the village. My wife is a real Ulrummer, she only leaves here between six planks.”

Facilities are also disappearing in cities, but in a village things are different. Christiaanse: “It is not necessarily a rural phenomenon, it has a different effect. There are so many alternatives in the city. People who live in the city don’t always understand that.”

She thinks a good example of this is the Hardenberg swimming pool in Finsterwolde, which was supposed to close but remained open after resistance from residents and an adopted motion by former MP Henk Nijboer. “Employees heard that they could work in the swimming pool in the next village. But the emotions people feel about the loss of facilities are not always rational.”

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