Open doors

“Let me know when you’re in town. You can stay with us.”
“The key is with the neighbor, I’ll come in a few days. The house is yours. Make yourself at home!"
“Do you already have somewhere to stay? I have a big house.”
“Would you like to have my key? I'm not there, but it's a good location and you'll like it.”
“Have you been to Byron Bay?” Come over! It's wonderful up here! I have a free room.”

This is something that defines Australia for me. I think I have the answer to my question about what excites me so much about this region, grabs me and doesn't let me go, doesn't want to let go.

The coast, waves, beaches, cliffs (of course!),

the expanse (= freedom, of course),

the horizon and the clouds (breathtaking!),

but above all the open doors.

A bed, a house, an apartment, here and there, invitations, just like that.

Just like that,

without payment,

without hassle,

without much back and forth.

Many people I meet or get to know are very mobile themselves, are mostly enthusiastic “house sitters” themselves - looking after the house, similar to babysitting - are on the go a lot or were when they were young.

Traveling and being on the move is something that most people are familiar with. Their children and grandchildren often live thousands of kilometers away, often on another continent. Moving, buying and selling houses, changing jobs, traveling, being somewhere else for several months; This is not unusual, on the contrary, it is the norm.

Many people, some of whom I have never met before, offer to stay with me, are happy and take their time, want to show me something in the area, cook or bake something, get up early for me or go to bed late , because I arrive or leave very early or very late. Many are great storytellers.

At first I thought over the last few months that it had something to do with my own research. Ultimately, I want to learn something about diaspora life, often about their family(s), their parents, grandparents. Even though I'm a stranger and we don't know each other - different origins, mother tongue, generation - I often know a lot about their ancestors, sometimes I even know more from my research than they do.

The best way to get to know people is to spend time with them, to experience everyday life; and that's often how the other side thinks too - I think. But it occurs to me - also based on my digital browsing through my old travel diaries - that I also experienced such invitations over 15 years ago and three hours by plane further east: in New Zealand. It seems to be common in the region - larger in area than Europe.

In any case, doors here in Australia (like back in New Zealand) are often never really locked - especially in "smaller places" like Adelaide with just over 1.3 million people.

I love these open doors! And if I've learned one thing, it's that I want to be the same: openness, curiosity, interest, warmth and stories from my own travels overseas, far away; Just change your perspective, upside down, turn the world upside down and turn it. The world looks somehow different from over there - or down there - and sometimes easier. My conversation partners often see it the same way.

Almost everyone here at the end - or, as you might say, at the beginning - of the world has stories of travel. Even though we weren't in the same place and often certainly not at the same time, it's this glow, a real glow in the eyes. Those eyes that people in love have and make you shine too. Stories from here and there, beautiful, funny, sometimes sad; Despite this or precisely because of it: the eyes shine, are directed forward, on the outside! I like that and this flood of positivity. The time of these conversations passes, just passes quickly, slowly, intensely; no desire, no time, no interest in looking at the cell phone, “just” really good entertainment.

What also impresses me is that there doesn't seem to be any expectation that this connection should - or should - be continued on a daily or very regular basis. It's more like: “How great that we spoke!” A great warmth and often afterwards I want to hug not only the person but the world. “ Let's put it this way: This is a start! I look forward to the next conversation with you. Sometime."

Afterwards I sometimes feel knocked out and completely charged at the same time. If batteries could overflow, this would be it. Your own level filled to the limit with... Yes, with what? Maybe joy of life.

And then sometimes, sometimes you realize that you even have a mutual acquaintance somewhere completely different in the world. That's somehow “magic”, magic - I know, (too) esoteric! Nevertheless and what I mean: I meet someone to go hiking, simply contacted via social media to go hiking. She is from Prague. After hours along the most beautiful Australian coast,

up and down hills,

She tells me that her grandmother survived the Theresienstadt ghetto and was Jewish. I tell her where my office is currently. - The security service of the Jewish community recommends not to simply reveal this to strangers…. - So my new Czech hiking acquaintance talks about her grandmother, about her relatives in Australia, I listen with interest, ask questions every now and then; I would like to mention that I have a colleague in London and she has written a book about Theresienstadt. “I thought it was really great! The perspectives brought together are really strong!” I enthuse. [small advertisement: The Last Ghetto: An Everyday History of Theresienstadt ]

“You mean Anna?”

"Crazy, yes!"

We take a selfie,

send it to London.

“Crazy,” we say.

Not just once!

Maybe it's true that we only know every person in the world from a few corners. I suspect, no I now have experience, that there is something to it. Exactly a month before, in January: I met with a fellow Böll Foundation scholarship holder who is currently in Brisbane for a long-term internship. Hiking the Blue Mountains

he tells us about his involvement in the volunteer fire department. “Funny,” we say and exchange ideas about what the youth fire department was like in his village in southwest Germany and what it was like in my village in the northeast. We have to climb over some trees and underneath some of them. With a backpack on our backs and 35 degrees, we feel like we're doing breathing apparatus drills. Coincidence?

The story isn't over yet:

He talks about another German who lives in Sydney,

for studying,

also associated with the Böll Foundation.

At some point I think I've heard this story(s) before.

“Can you write to her and ask if her roommate in Sydney is called Anastasia?”

A short time later an answer: “Yes, um, why?”

Her roommate is the daughter of my current landlord in Sydney. We meet almost every Friday for Shabbat dinner at our house.

Just to say: Over 5.3 million people live in Sydney. - Oh, and Estelle's family originally comes from Łódź in Poland, where I studied in 2011/12; then worked for a long time on the Łódź/Litzmannstadt ghetto from different perspectives. Of course we know the same people. Coincidence, just.