Filix finishing his last Kebap in Germany There are some things about my time here in Germany that I know I will never forget. More importantly, there are people I will never forget. Take Filix for example. Of the 20 some Spanish people here, he is the one I have been closest to. Even in when I was in the worst mood, he always could make me laugh. Do you remember the seagulls from the movie Finding Nemo? The ones that always said, “Mine? Mine?” Well Filix remembers them. But instead of saying “Mine?” he would always say “Kebap?” Kebap is actually known here as Dönner Kebap. It’s the traditional Turkish sandwich that we all eat here in Germany. It’s cheap, it’s huge, and the Kebap places are open all night, kind of like Denny’s back in the U.S. But the Kebap places are usually very small and our group can usually fill and overflow a Dönner shop. Well, Filix loves Kebap. Everywhere we went, “Kebap?” Even in Copenhagen, when we were lost and looking for our hostel, he saw a sign that said Steakhouse, but it was not the kind of steakhouse that I was used to, and when Filix saw the menu photos outside the place, he said, “Steakhouse gib’s Kebap?” which means “the Steakhouse has Kebap?” I just laughed. It was typical Filix.
On Monday, Filix left Paderborn and flew back to Madrid. That’s it, he’s gone. I promised that at some point, I would come visit him, but I think it will be a long time before I get that chance. On Saturday, we had a party for him, Pepe and Alberto, who will be leaving in the next few weeks. We all had a great time and signed some posters for them to take home. On Sunday, a few of us met at Carlos’ place to see Filix one more time before he left. It was odd. Most of this year, we have to keep our group quiet enough not to crack the plaster ceiling. They are very loud. On Sunday, with 20 people stuffed in a tiny kitchen, looking at pictures on a computer, I noticed that if there hadn’t been music playing, the room would have been silent. It was as if on this one day, there was nothing left to say. Except for Filix, who looked at me and said only one word, “Kebap?”
Filix is just the first of many people here that I will have to say good-bye to. It seems strange to think that I will never see most of them again. Even if I stayed here, the people I’ve grown to love will still leave. As a group, we had one small place, in one short moment, to laugh and sing and dance together as the world went along without us for an entire year. And I think we all have come to realize that there will never be another chance for us to be all together again. Never. It’s as if the edges are crumbling away and on August second, I will be standing here, the last piece, having seen each one of them come and go. Ready to go home, but not ready leave them behind. So I will sit in silence. I will marvel at their absence, as if it isn’t real yet. I will eat my Kebap and I will think of Filix.
