The other day I helped out in the “Welcome Hall” by the central station for the first time, just a bit more than three hours, which I will continue to do weekly over the summer. It is a giant tent, organised to be a resting place for people arriving from Ukraine, to sit, have something to eat and drink, and get their bearings before moving on.

Berlin is currently “full”, except of course for people who have relatives or friends in Berlin with whom they can stay, but presumably they are being met and we do not see them in the tent. Those who pass through the tent are waiting for connecting trains to other destinations in Germany, or are going on a shuttle bus to Tegel for registration and processing. No bureaucracy takes place in the tent.

There are long tables and benches in the middle, and along the edges there is a welcome stand, interpreters, catering – sandwiches, soup, fruit, candy, water, juice, tea and coffee -, health services, and a children’s corner. Sometimes, unaccompanied children arrive, and they have to wait there until an adult can take care of them.

It is a surreal experience to watch the more or less steady stream of people of all ages (except very few men between the ages of 18 and 60 (or is it 70?)). Many young women with small children, many elderly couples, small groups of teenagers travelling together. Some have been en route for several days and nights. All having left everything behind or even lost everything except what fits in a suitcase and a travel bag. All looking remarkably stoic.

On several occasions what might be a couple of grandparents, suddenly getting up and greeting a handful of what looked like for example teenage grandchildren who had arrived from somewhere else in Ukraine, all looking relieved that this reunion had now worked out.

Whatever their personal stories, impossible to fully imagine what it must be like for them.