I experience for the first time in my life a real winter. Yes, last year I was also in the Netherlands, but when I was in the refugee shelter Dome in Arnhem. I had no obligations and did not run errands, so I did not leave the building on cold days. You see the Dutch running on the street, even if it is three degrees. I tend to pull them off the streets and turn to me for the heat, but they seem to want it for yourself. Furthermore, there is little on the street. I did not understand when I was just here, but now I do. I came last running in the Dutch language lesson and then my teacher asked: “Anwar is it going better with you?” I thought, huh? Did not go well with me then? And suddenly I remembered that I had reported sick a week earlier. When it was so cold that I did not go to school. I really could not go out the house. I now know how it feels to your fingers as you ride in the cold. They do such terrible pain that you they can hardly move. What a terrible feeling. The only experience with cold that I had in Syria, was when my mother asked me to pick something from the fridge. Here the country is a fridge. With freezer compartment. The country is the refrigerator, the Dutch are the freezer compartments that keep those in the fridge. They continue to sit in their own box and do not come out. And therefore Dutch are obviously very old. 90 years, 100 years, it’s nothing special here. Everything remains well once much more good in a freezer.