It’s not a goodbye, it’s a see you later - My stay at elbēn has come to an end

But it still hurts. Goodbyes always hurt, and this one with a power of unforeseen strength. Staying in elbēn is dangerous, trust me, because it binds your heart, convinces your brain and addicts your stomach. It practically has your entire being tied up in a Gordian knot. During my six weeks at elbēn I have learned remarkably much; about myself, about Germany and Syria and quite a bit German. All while I was having tons of fun. elbēn is not just a workplace, it’s a family. A space for trust, growth and encounters inside and outside of work. It’s funny bistro shifts, picnicking, volleyball and so much more. It’s the feeling. The synergy between the (twenty) two hearts. In more than one occasion of elbēn events, I closed my eyes and thought ‘What on Earth did I deserve to be here and experience this?’ It’s far beyond my comprehension. Me of all people in the world. To be flooded by waves of openness and tsunamis of love. I wish for every future workawayer that they will feel as welcomed and accepted as I did. When I came here to elbēn I had no masterplan and not much planned in terms of what I would or could do here. We paved the way as we went. But I ended up spreading the knowledge of manakish in food trucks and the bistro, I translated the homepage into English (with the generous help of another workawayer), I’ve assisted live streams of concerts and I have written texts for the homepage. But one of the most interesting parts was working on the project of creating an elbēn-manifesto. I had the chance to interview a lot of the team members about elbēn, and it always struck me how much their eyes lit up with passion, affection and gratitude. Probably as much as my eyes do if you would ask me. My stay here in elbēn has been like an hourglass; you try to count the endless sand grains of warmth that pass by while you see that it leads towards an empty half. The time is up. But there is nothing more you would want than to flip the hourglass and start all over. The Gordian knot is impossible to untie. Because there is nothing as nostalgic and melancholic as playing your last round of kicker (table soccer), giving your last hug and eating your last mhamara manakish. But last is a relative word, right?