Learning that the world is bigger.
My mother taught me to appreciate the simple, tangible things in
life. Some of my earliest memories are of cooking at home,
visiting farmers' markets, crafting, and making things by hand.
She could take a few simple ingredients and turn them into
something delicious. I liked that way of living: knowing where
things came from, making things yourself, and taking the time to
turn them into something worth sharing.
One of my chores was to visit a local farmer each week to buy
fresh milk. I'd bring along our milk can and have it filled. I was
fascinated by the cows, but just as much by the machinery around
them: the pumps, the pipes, and the way the milk moved through the
system into the bottling station. The farmer would fill my can and
always give me an extra cup of milk, still warm from the cows.
I loved the whole process. The animals, the machinery, the
transformation of something so ordinary into something we would
use at home. Looking back, I think those experiences left me with
an appreciation for the physical world and how things work. Where
things come from. How they're made. What you can do with what you
already have.
My grandfather opened up a different kind of world. I loved
spending time with him, listening to classical music and having
long conversations about philosophy and religion. He was also
something of a tutor. We studied chemistry and biology together,
translated Latin texts, and talked about how the natural world
worked and why people believed what they believed.
With him, curiosity could lead anywhere. A question about nature
might turn into a conversation about philosophy; a scientific idea
might open up an entirely different way of looking at the world. I
learned to enjoy not just finding answers, but following questions
wherever they led.
Then, just after turning fifteen, I set off for São Paulo, Brazil,
on my own.
I arrived knowing almost nothing about the country and without
speaking the language. It was a big step into the unfamiliar,
though I don't remember approaching it as some grand adventure. I
was young, curious, and ready to see what happened.
Before long, I had met a girl and found myself living with her.
Through her and the friends I made along the way, I discovered a
different way of life. I gravitated toward skaters, musicians, and
other young people who seemed to embody the openness and energy of
São Paulo. I loved the food, the friendships, and the feeling of
finding my place somewhere so different from home.
I still remember churrascarias, picanha, and bowls of feijoada
shared around the table. But what stays with me most is the
experience of belonging somewhere I had barely known existed a
short time before. I didn't speak the language when I arrived, yet
I found people to connect with, places to feel at home, and a way
of life that was entirely different from the one I had left
behind. Some of those friendships stayed with me long after I
returned to Germany.
São Paulo changed my sense of what was possible. Germany was, and
remains, part of my roots. But I began to understand that where
you come from doesn't have to determine where you go. There were
other ways to live, other ways to see the world, and other places
where life could feel like your own.
I'd already started earning my own money at around eleven,
delivering newspapers and magazines in my spare time. At sixteen,
back in Germany, I began working more seriously alongside school.
I worked at a design firm, waited tables at a café, and later
worked in insurance. Each place introduced me to different people,
different routines, and different ways of getting things done. I
liked being in those environments and figuring out how they
worked.
Looking back, I don't think I had any particular plan. I was
simply interested in what was beyond the immediate horizon,
whether that meant understanding a machine on a farm, following an
idea with my grandfather, finding my feet in Brazil, or trying out
a different kind of work.
I didn't yet know where any of it would lead. I just knew there
was a lot more to discover.
