Stidham built the custom shelving that organizes items in his van, including his clothes, food, stove, water and climbing gear. Photo by Sakeus Bankson
Western senior Matt Camardo’s house is as cozy as any college student’s—more so than most, actually. It has windows in all the walls, a skylight and warm lighting to complement the temperature.
His kitchen’s large blue countertop matches a table that sits four—five if guests want to get cozy—and has a sink larger than the one in his girlfriend’s place. A fridge hums under his two-burner stove, where the aroma of chai tea blends with the smell of the cake he is baking for his guests.
As they sit around talking, Camardo lazily surfs the Web on his laptop and Led Zeppelin pours out of an expensive stereo system. When everyone leaves, he will head upstairs and crawl into his full-size bed and down sleeping bag.
This may seem completely normal. That is, until you step out the sliding front door of Camardo’s house and look back.
Camardo lives in a blue 1973 Volkswagen van.
He is one of a number of students who have chosen to take up residence in vehicles rather than pay rent or deal with the stress of roommates, landlords or substandard houses and apartments.
While there are difficulties, Camardo said he not only survives living in a van, he thrives in a lifestyle full of freedom and free of stress and materialism.
“People always say ‘I want to do that.’ I hear that all the time. ‘I’ve always wanted to live in a van. It seems like the greatest thing. I’ve really considered it’— I’ve heard that from all kinds of people,” Camardo said. “I’m trying to tell everybody, ‘Buy a VW and move in.’”
Camardo’s van is definitely not a palace. He has been living in it since September 2008 and admits it can be tough at times.
It has no bathroom or shower, and when it gets cold he has to put food in the fridge to keep it from freezing. He has to move every couple of days, and parking can be hard to find.
Getting “upstairs” to his bed requires standing on the counter and squirming through a gap between the spice rack and the wall. And, Carmado said, one of the most important necessities is a pee bottle.
But when people ask him about what they see as a romantic lifestyle—and they frequently do—he is eager to recommend it.
Camardo’s own decision to go mobile was inspired by a series of poor living arrangements. He had worked as a commercial fisherman and thought about living out of a boat as an alternative. But the wait for moorage in Bellingham would be years, he said, and the next best thing seemed to be a van.
Even for Camardo, who is known in Western’s Recreation Department as “Savage” Matt, the idea was a bold move—spending all his earnings and selling almost everything he owned. The deciding factor came from a strange place.
Sean Stidham adds honey to his tea as Matt Camardo relaxes and enjoys a piece of van-made cake. Photo by Sakeus Bankson
“I watched Napoleon Dynamite again and Uncle Rico had that pimp van, that huge Dodge,” Camardo said. “After I watched that again it was the final step. I was like, ‘I’m buying a van.’”
Camardo began a daily search of Craigslist until he found exactly what he was looking for—a 1973 Volkswagen Hightop Safaré camper van—in Dallas, Texas.
On another leap of faith, Camardo and his girlfriend flew down to Dallas planning to drive it back—and after hopping behind the wheel, it was love at first mile.
Saving money is one of the most obvious benefits of the lifestyle, Camardo said. When he bought it, his van cost him $5,000, compared to the $6,000 he spent on rent at his previous house. He said he plans to save $4,000 this year, after installing a larger battery and a large solar panel on the roof to power his appliances.
Between those savings and the financial aid he receives, Camardo not only goes to school for free, but has enough money left over to cover gas and food, which frees him from having to work and allows him to focus on school.
“My parents kind of frown on it. People think it’s kind of low-life to live in a van,” Camardo said. “But it is definitely helping further myself and I’m not going to be a burden to society. I’m going to be a benefit to it.”
As for staying clean and going to the bathroom, Camardo tries not to use friends’ houses. Most mornings he goes to the rec center and takes a shower after working out.
Going to the bathroom is a little trickier and depends on the van-goer. Urinating requires far less effort from the guys—hence the importance of the pee bottle. Urinating is one of the main difficulties Camardo has seen for women living in vans.
As for the “other” bathroom business, Camardo has no problem going in his van and will readily and graphically demonstrate the system he has worked out for it. Others, however, fervently avoid it and use public bathrooms.
Parking is frustrating, Camardo said, but is mostly just an annoyance. He moves every few days and tries to avoid being conspicuous while parked on busy streets and neighborhoods—if he is too obvious, people often get suspicious and ask him to leave, he said.
He has only been talked to twice by the police, but both times they were friendly and just asked him a few questions.
But sleeping on a busy street can be a scary thing—even Camardo, who is 6 feett 2 inches and has a bone piercing through his nose, said he feels vulnerable. Mostly, though, he said he worries about not making other people uncomfortable.
“When I park on 21st I try to keep a low profile, just have a smaller presence,” Camardo said. “I can understand if girls are walking by and see some creeper dude in a van at 11 o’clock at night, when it’s really a college student trying to do homework.”
Despite the initial assumption most people have, Camardo said, the cold is not the biggest problem with living in a van.
Although it may cause pipes and mayonnaise to freeze, cold temperatures actually keep the inside dry by freezing all the condensation, and can be handled with a warm jacket and sleeping bag.
More than anything else, Camardo said, rain is the worst part of van life.
“In such a small space, nothing dries out. Things start to mildew and mold and mud tracks everywhere and condensation builds up on the inside and it’s always damp,” he said. “Last year it rained for 31 days and it sucked.”
How long Camardo is going to live in the Safaré depends both on what he is doing when he graduates as well as where he is with his girlfriend, as it would be rough on both of them trying to live together in such a tight space.
Either way, he plans on being in it at least until after he graduates—wherever he gets a job, he can just drive there—and said he will hang on to it whatever happens.
“I love living in a van, man. I absolutely love it,” Camardo said. “Everywhere is home.”
Before switching the stereo to Pearl Jam and taking a bite of cake, Camardo said living in a van is as much about having someplace to stay as having the ability to go.
“It’s like the human search for home. When you leave your parents’ house you have to find home somehow, somewhere,” he said. “I think it’s something based deep in humanity. It gives you freedom, the ability to be at home everywhere you go. I’m at home everywhere.”
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