At the age of 19, I had to leave my home country, Iran, and after a long diversions and some time, fate brought me to Germany. I spent the first two years of my time in Germany as a political asylum seeker in a home for asylum seekers in Augsburg. My stay there was particularly difficult: I was confronted every day with questions whose answers remained hidden from me -Where does the social coldness come from that can be felt everywhere - could this have something to do with the comparatively cool climate? Why do people not notice each other on the street, but have a serious and fixed look on their faces? Even in the underground trains, everyone hides behind their newspaper and doesn't even give a small child a smile.
Why does the predominantly older generation stand on their balconies and "watch" the young people from there with a police look?
Where does the thinking "Your problem - Not my problem" come from, i.e. why is there no willingness to help each other?
Two other events from my early days here that were formative for me are the following:
A friend of mine wanted to help an old lady who had fallen down on the street. The lady called for help, but not until my friend had already grabbed her arm so she could get up: she thought he was trying to rob her handbag.
During my student days, my neighbour rang the doorbell because his salt had run out and he wanted to ask me about it. I rolled up a paper in the shape of a funnel, filled it with salt and gave it to him. The next evening, at about the same time, my doorbell rang again: my neighbour was standing in front of it with a funnel-shaped rolled-up paper and wanted to give me back my salt. All I could think of was a cynical remark about whether he had counted the grains of salt correctly.
I am aware that there are positive and negative traits in all countries and cultures, and one could probably experience a multitude of similar stories in every country. But now that I live in Germany, I have to face the above questions.
After my time in Augsburg, I took my German Abitur and studied in Darmstadt. In 1996, after graduating, I moved to Berlin in the hope of meeting more cosmopolitan people there and realising my dream of self-employment. Even as a little boy, I was fascinated by my grandparents' stories of how saffron, fabrics, dates and pistachios were brought to Europe by camel via the Silk Road. They told me about the rhythmic sounds of bells that accompanied the caravan and also about the unforgettable taste of tea in the caravanserai. My wish ever since was to discover the world as a merchant through trade and to get to know different cultures.
This image of the caravan should also be expressed in my branches here in Berlin: in our shop, every visitor is offered a Persian tea from the samovar, and the sound of the caravan's bells can be found on the bell on the top of the hood.
That's how it came about that I finally settled in Berlin with my company and am now rooted here both privately and in business. Even though I still sometimes encounter incidents like the ones mentioned at the beginning, Berlin has shown me that Germany - just like any other country - is made up of a multitude of different population groups and different individuals that often only need to be discovered with open eyes.