Kwai: Javad, what was it like when you arrived in Germany?

Ganjkhanloo: When we arrived in Germany, we were taken to a large police station. From there, they moved us to the central refugee camp in Nuremberg. I stayed there for seven days, and then I was transferred to a temporary camp. I stayed there for four or five months. That’s where I began attending Julia’s language class.

Naturally, every person has certain fears in their lives. I was afraid that Julia wouldn’t accept me. I wasn’t in the best of conditions when I first arrived in Germany, in terms of money, language skills, and my social situation—all this made me afraid.

When I arrived in Germany, I didn’t want to stay. I wanted to end up in Norway. But when I arrived, I knew I’d arrived in the land of Nietzsche and Beethoven, and that made me happy. I’m an atheist, and sometimes I say my god is Friedrich Nietzsche.

Kwai: What did you have with you when you entered Germany?

Ganjkhanloo: I didn’t have a passport. I didn’t have anything. When I arrived, I only had travel documents from Austria and the other countries I’d traveled through. I’d enter a country and wait to receive the document before I could enter the next country.

Kwai: Were there moments in the asylum-seeking that were frustrating for you?

Ganjkhanloo: I was in a situation where I had to leave Iran as quickly as possible. The first place I arrived was Turkey. The most difficult part of my journey was crossing from Turkey to Greece on a small boat. About 50 people got on board a six-meter boat. I left Iran for self-preservation, but in those waters, I put myself in danger once again in order to try and reach safety.

During the rest of my journey, Greece and Serbia were places where I ran into hardship. I felt afraid and unsafe. I had to stay in Greece for five days. I stayed in the cold and slept in the forest. Then, in Serbia, I had to stand in the cold for 13 hours. Eventually, I arrived in Germany.

Kwai: What was frustrating for you, Julia?

Pichl: I can’t count how many moments there were. It started off with him being transferred to another camp. We were together for two weeks and we were both so happy, and then he got transferred to somewhere in Bavaria. I struggled a lot because of the long distance. He was in that camp for three months without getting a chance to further his language studies. He was getting so skinny in the camps because the food was so [bad]—they would give him fish every night in a can. He wouldn’t sleep very well. He was under a lot of stress. The first time he got there, he didn’t have an ID. I thought he could come back and visit me immediately, but then it took him four weeks to get a piece of paper with his name on it. Before he had that he couldn’t leave, so I went there instead.

Now he’s looking for a language course and a job and he’s had to do everything himself. And because he was far away, I couldn’t go and help him with it. His interview [to determine immigration status] is soon. We’re both very nervous about it. If it goes [well], he has a German passport. It’s crazy because everything depends on this interview. He was asking me questions that were frustrating for me, because I had no clue about them. If he takes my advice and it [is bad] then I’ll blame myself for it. He wants my opinion and I don’t want to give my opinion because it’s such an important process. I don’t know about law, lawyers, what to say and who to call.