Dirk Voltz and his partner took in 24 refugees into their Berlin apartment since July. He shared a Facebook status about the experience that is different to what he thought it would have been. He expressed his disappointment.

In bad times, one should consider their own balance sheet. Mine looks like this: Since July my partner and I have hosted approximately 24 people from Syria, Afghanistan, and Iraq in our place in Berlin.

Our knives are still in the kitchen, precisely where I left them on the board. Before our guests from Syria and Iraq arrived.

We never needed a key for our bedroom, except for one time a dear guest from Afghanistan needed it to play with our cats. Our four fat, old cats had as much fun as the young man.

But back to the knives: All that was stabbed with them in the weeks we hosted refugees in our home were onions, garlic and a looooot of meat.

Mario and I are still alive.

Perhaps, even more intensively than before. Whether we´ll ever return to a “normal,” we do not know. How can I care about the luxury chatter from yesterday?

He said that the real disappointment came in the form of ordinary text messages, death threats on the street, or insulting letters at the front door. He wrote:

Instead of tackling the crisis, we act as if there is no tomorrow. Wake up finally!

As if one could stop this migration of people. As if we could personally influence which war will break out. As if we all don’t have a responsibility in the world’s happenings.

It may be that Islam does not belong to Germany. It’s also possible that the devil is part of every religion.

Maybe I have to fight for my rights as a homosexual in ten years, more intensely than I have to do it now. It’s also possible that I realize at some point, I made mistakes. Everything is possible, nothing has to happen for sure!

Who knows? I mean, who knows what will be someday? Certainly I know that what happened this past summer and this fall have changed our lives. You can be there for other people. Or you can be scared. And if that happens, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for those who live in fear.