The Refugee we deny ourselves to be
It was really a joke that I have had with a friend of mine in our way back from the university. But my storming mind does not want to let it go, so here I am, writing what it has to say. In my first days here in Germany I've met a guy from Ethiopia at the train station of Rosenheim. We've chatted for about half an hour before each us went for his destination. I was lucky enough to get a true story form this friend. He came all the way from his country to reach finally this place. From his country travelling by car, and other local mean he has managed to reach the Libyan coast. After several weeks waiting for his chance to be boarded, he was finally boarded in a very small boat (I think you all know the story), he has reached Italy, precisely in Sicily, after a long stay there he made it to Germany, here he said, he's having a decent life. But wherever he goes, there's one big scar on his face, that he does not know how to get rid of it. Surprised by