Children have ten weeks summer holiday in Syria. It is then very hot in the city. Because there are no playgrounds and it’s too dangerous to play football on the street, you have to sit in for the whole time. That is why many children go to a village in their long summer holiday. Everyone who lives in the city has family or acquaintances in a village. We always went by bus from our city of Aleppo to my grandpa and grandmother in Kobani, my father’s parents. In my youth it was two hours by bus, later in the war the same ride took ten hours. We were allowed to do everything we wanted, we had nature around us and grandpa and grandma spoiled us with candies. Not only my brother and I were in the summer at grandma and grandmother, my cousins and my cousins were there too and often the neighbor children also stayed. In the beginning we were shy because we had not seen each other for a long time, but soon we were a group and we went to argue with the children in another street. Sometimes we went to the forest to eat fruit, we played in the lake or went to family visit. Nobody could swim by the way, so we only played on the side of the lake. Through the whole house of our grandparents, children were sleeping on the ground. During the holidays Grandpa and Grandma were the boss. We listened to them, even if our mother was there. Sometimes grandma and grandma used something that my mother took the blood under the nails. She did not speak to her in-laws, but in the background she made wild gestures. It was therefore not always easy for the mothers, but at the end of the holiday they were rewarded. Before we went home, we always got a lot of food from the village. We arrived at home with bags of yogurt, olives and honey. The house in Kobani was destroyed by the war, the family who lived there fled to Turkey. New memories will no longer be created.