Letters from Somewhere No.075
This won’t last much longer. Perhaps we are already on our farewell tour. I keep telling myself that, whispering it at first, as if trying to protect myself. But eventually, it grows louder,…
Letters from Somewhere No.074
I take off my headphones, searching for a moment of silence. But there is none. It's quiet, but never silent - footsteps, voices, a constant throbbing fill the room. An oppressive restlessness takes…
Letters from Somewhere No.073
You often only realize in retrospect how extraordinary a phase was. Sometimes during it. I knew it straight away. Not immediately when we arrived, but after a few hours and definitely in the first…
Letters from Somewhere No.072
The dirty sidewalks, crumbling facades, and penetrating stench of the city remain an annoyance even after more than three weeks. Too often, I stumble over carelessly discarded trash, avoid dark…
Letters from Somewhere No.071
The valleys lie beneath a thick blanket of fog, with peaks jutting out like water lilies floating on a quiet pond. The setting sun bathes the sky in a spectacular display of pink hues. Leaning…
Letters from Somewhere No.070
I don't know what I expected, probably more than I was offered. Somehow I assumed that we are in the West and the West is rich. That's what I was always told. At school and in the media. And although…
Letters from Somewhere No.069
Something must have happened. A tectonic plate has shifted inside me, but it hasn't triggered a quake. It is calm. All I can feel is a deep sense of contentment. The past four weeks have been written…
Letters from Somewhere No.068
There are exactly three reasons why we leave the accommodation. When we go shopping, take out the garbage or go on a hike. I've forgotten one, the platform near the house. But I usually go there…
Letters from Somewhere No.067
The pendulum swings far in both directions. Sometimes I am flooded with the greatest happiness and then crushed by deep depression. The center is a place I rarely find. I start most days with a…
Letters from Somewhere No.066
Will the sea remain in me? Or the rough rocks? Or a clear memory of it? The sound of the sea, like last night? I no longer know whether I can rely on my memory, it is never as clear as the moment…