Learning that the world is bigger.
My mother shaped one of the earliest ways I learned to see the
world. Some of my earliest memories are rooted in the rhythms of
everyday life: cooking meals at home, visiting farmers’ markets,
crafting, and making things by hand.
She would take the simple ingredients we brought home and turn
them into something delicious. There was something very tangible
about that way of living. Knowing where things came from. Making
things yourself. Taking the time to turn them into something to
share.
One of my chores was to visit a local farmer each week to buy
fresh milk. We had a milk can that I would bring along and refill.
I was fascinated by the cows, but I was just as fascinated 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 milk can and always give me an extra cup of milk,
still warm from the cows.
I loved the whole process. Seeing the animals. Watching the
machinery at work. Understanding how something as familiar as milk
made its way from the farm to our home.
Looking back, I think those experiences gave me a deep
appreciation for the simple, physical side of life. Knowing where
things come from. Reusing what you already have. Making things
yourself. Paying attention to the process.
My grandfather shaped another side of that curiosity. 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 to me. We studied chemistry and biology
together, translated Latin texts, and talked about philosophy,
religion, and how the natural world worked.
Those conversations opened up a world of questions: how nature
worked, why people believed what they believed, and how ideas
could lead somewhere completely unexpected.
Then, just after turning 15, I left Germany for a year in São
Paulo as a student. I arrived knowing almost nothing about Brazil
and without speaking the language. It didn't take long to feel at
home. I found friends, including skaters, musicians, and other
young people who seemed to embody the openness and energy of the
city. I never felt like an outsider.
I loved the everyday life of being there: the friendships, the
food, the feeling of simply belonging somewhere. I still remember
churrascarias, picanha, and bowls of feijoada shared around the
table. Some of the friendships I made that year stayed with me
long after I returned to Germany.
More than anything, 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 define
where you go.
At 16, I started working alongside school. I worked at a design
firm, waited tables at a café, and later worked in insurance. I
liked being in different environments, meeting different people,
and seeing how different kinds of work were done.
Looking back, those years taught me to step outside the familiar
and learn by doing.