So I moved to Germany when I was 16 years old on December 2011.
I was happy about it because Germany was my dream. Literally – it was my dream. As I first arrived everything looked great to me, even the smallest things that I would never notice now, back then they were special. There was nothing in the world that could make me change my idea about this country to be perfection.
The first thing I noticed about this place is that people barely ever look at you in the eyes. They mostly stare at the ground as they walk by and if they hit you, most of them will pretend it never happened and will keep going. I remember that I found this amazing. I could go naked through the streets and nobody would even care! (I mean, I wouldn’t do it, there are still too many foreigns around here)
I don’t think I still completely understand the meaning of this actions, like if they’d prefere the world to let them out so that they could do their work without thinking about the outer problems. I think they don’t like to be..seen. the truth is: they’re alone. Inside and out. I’m sure somehow they suffer like hell but they won’t show it. In many ways I realized, they’re like me.
I ended up in a school where they had a class for foreign students. I found myself surrounded by ten countries in one single room, kids speaking all different laguages, people with stories, cultures and habits that I would never have any chance to know otherwise. I can say in that little time with these little guys I’ve learn a lot of things about many places and how certains especially good things are hidden from our eyes. We hear only bad news about afghanistan or Iraq, but being with those kids (who came from those countries) I’ve learnt that there isn’t only war. There’s also love for their nature, love for their own people, love for their own culture and the good things are there, whether we see them or not.
In this class I started learning my first german words like tree – Baum, chair – Stuhl, book – Buch and so on. My ‘teacher’ was a 14-year old iranian girl named Samira, a girl I will probably never forget. We became soon friends and she was the very first person in Germany to actually understand me.
I think that being forced to leave your country, especially when you love it, is something that you always bring inside yourself. You carry it with you no matter where you go, no place will ever be home for you. Meeting someone else who had to leave their home the same way you did, a person who knows exactly how you feel, gives you a feeling which is pure relief. You don’t need words, you don’t need to explain yourself with them because they already know.
I started missing my house and my old habits soon enough. I was sure that germany was the right place for me. I used to say ‘I belong there’, ‘I will be happy as I get there’, ‘Finally I’ll be gone somewhere better’.
I didn’t know. Nothing.
I think at a point I arrived to force myself to accept the fact that I was here and here I would stay. there was no coming back. I never told anyone that I wanted to return in Italy, nor that I was starting to feel out of place. Let’s just say, Germany is no place for an italian. There are many of us here, and still I don’t understand how they survived all these years. People are too cold hearted and careless to be accepted into my heart.
I know you’re reading and thinking ‘why? what’s wrong with Germany?’ there’s A LOT wrong with it and I’ll make more posts about it. But right now, I still want to focus on my feelings, to let you in completely, so that you have an idea of who I am. this is again just a little introduction to what you’re about to read – if you want to – in the next weeks. I’ll write specific themes and name as many differences as I can between Italy and Germany starting from how I was accepted in school and how the people are here and how we are in Italy and stuff like that. I’ll think about it anyway.
Yes, since it’s 11pm and my bed is awaiting me, I guess I’ll answer. See you next time!