Life, encounters and experiences: Mr. Federal President, here comes your update

Almost ten years have passed since I came to Germany. A few weeks after my arrival, a colleague took me – practically by the hand – to Parliament. Turkey was a big topic at the time, my colleagues in Istanbul had just been arrested. And by some coincidence I was suddenly here, clueless and naïve, shaking Frank-Walter Steinmeier's hand.

The only thing that moved were his trembling eyes, which seemed to become increasingly spherical and deeper behind his glasses. I had the feeling that he was studying me, making me feel that I was in a place where I didn't really belong. After a short pause, Steinmeier – who was still Foreign Minister at the time – said something that I still think I must have misunderstood, so strange it sounded: “Keep me updated.”

It was a casual remark that I assumed referred to political developments in Turkey. Keep me updated: Somehow close and yet distant – politics. It was clear from the start that I couldn't update it. Although I was at his house once and worked in his garden another time, I haven't seen him since.

Shortly after we met, he became Federal President - and I became a German citizen after ten years of doing this and that. Steinmeier is my president, just like Erdoğan. At least one of them will resign when their term is over.

I can't say whether Steinmeier is experiencing his "La Grazia" moment, the moment from Sorrentino's last film in which the outgoing president has to make big decisions and begins to reflect on his life and legacy. Or whether he has already mentally quit. Just like some people you meet in every workplace. The Bellevue Palace has finally been cleared out, as his thoughts might have been. Maybe as a fan he is just looking forward to Schalke 04 playing in the Bundesliga again.

Whether he's thinking about the big things or the little things, this column is prepared for both cases. I will now finally fulfill my duty and do what Steinmeier asked me to do exactly ten years ago. I will tell him about lives, encounters and experiences that would otherwise probably remain closed to the Federal President.

And I'm not just talking about trivial things: like all the Späti signs that suddenly turn pink; of the humble tortilla chips disappearing from supermarket shelves; or about the strange children who throw their garbage through open windows into strangers' homes.

This column will also be about the people who live in these apartments and the things they do to continue living there. Of those who don't have a place to live. From others who can't stand them, even hate them. About people who build houses elsewhere while they work themselves to death here, or about those who live off the state. About people who are here and there at the same time, who are at home in both places and yet nowhere.

So, Mr. Federal President, here comes your update.