On Wednesday it was the Afghan men – young, able bodied men – the ones some people seem to be afraid of. They were very sweet to me. It had taken them 20 days to get to Europe. Now that they were here they were determined to get to Germany. I don’t know if they know that the door is closing fast on Afghans. That in the realm of those who seek asylum they are second class citizens. They joked. One of them, his last name was Alman. Like Allegmagne. So, clearly Germany was in their future. They teased each other. Alman was a little plumb, his friend was not. He asked me what I thought of Alman. Was he fit? Of course I said. What about me he asked and nodded because he knew the answer already. “Body builder,” he said and flexed his muscles.  

They wanted to know how old I was, how many children I had, did I have a husband. They were astonished to know how old I was, that I had no children and no husband. We had a laugh.  

They talked about the reasons why they fled. The Taliban was one reason. The quest for a better life another. The body builder was a student of computer science. Twenty one years old. Alman was studying English classics. An older friend was traveling with them. He had at least two sons one with the bluest eyes – so surprising. The other with the toothiest grin.  

We took photographs together – they wanted to send them to friends and I figured that since I’m asking to take photos of them why should I not let them take photos of me as strange as it was to have them fired off across the ether via WhatsApp. The body builder wanted to hold my hand but I thought no… #askingfortrouble.  

When I made a move to go, he asked me if I would remember his face. I looked up at him and I thought to myself, man you have no idea. He had a gorgeous face and a lovely demeanour. To the girls of Germany beware. There is a group of young, abled bodied Afghan men heading your way. Watch your hearts.  

February 2016