Haben auch Sie Lust, neue Leute kennenzulernen?



Es wird Herbst. Zeit für Begegnungen, und der Elbsalon öffnet seine Tür: Dinner for ten.

Wir suchen zehn Hamburger, die neugierig auf neue Leute sind. Die gemeinsam mit uns an einem Tisch sitzen, essen, trinken, reden, lachen, sich vergnügen wollen.

Ein Salon nicht virtuell, sondern in echt.

Wann? Am 6. November.
Wo? An einem tollen Ort in Hamburg, den wir rechtzeitig bekannt geben.
Wer? Fünf Frauen und fünf Männer, eher 55 als 35, eher ungebunden als verbandelt.
Und dann? Ein Stammtisch? Neue Freunde? Neue Liebe? Wir sind offen.

Haben Sie Lust, dabei zu sein? Dann senden Sie uns eine Email mit ein paar Sätzen über sich an: info@elbsalon.de. Wir freuen uns.

Liebe Elbsalon-Leser,
herzlichen Dank für die vielen Anmeldungen zum ersten „Dinner for ten“. Wir haben unter allen, die sich bis jetzt angemeldet haben, zehn Teilnehmer ausgelost, die wir per Email benachrichtigt haben. 
Wir freuen uns auf den Abend!

Come dine with me


Last Saturday, I had guests for dinner. It is something that happens every now and then at my blue table. Young people in their twenties usually from different backgrounds, often different nationalities gather around that table, the first one my mother owned  when she herself was in her twenties. I put on that Spotify playlist, light the brass candle holders and uncork the red wine. That’s what I always do and that is what I did last Saturday as well. Actually, it was like any Saturday dinner with guests. Just that those guests did not come from Sweden or Spain or the South of Germany. They came from Syria and they did not come voluntarily.


Last year, Ebba Åkerman, a Swedish language teacher for immigrants, came up with the brilliant idea of the “Invitationsdepartmentet”, a Ministry of Dinner Invitations. She realized that refugees and immigrants are “let into the country but not into the society”. That’s why she started matching natives and immigrants who met for dinner together.

In Hamburg, we also have hundreds of refugees. They live in container camps with other refugees and contact with Germans is scarce or lacking. For the Germans, the refugee question is mostly a political topic that is discussed in media, it’s numbers, not people. In short: Hamburg, like probably any German city, is a perfect starting point for a German Ministry of Invitations.

Through friends I contacted Tina, an inspiring young woman who hangs out with the refugees and helps them with trips to the authorities. I asked her if she thought it would be a good idea and if the refugees would be up for a dinner with us. They were.

Last Saturday, I had guests for dinner. Young people in their twenties, from different backgrounds, different nationalities: two German girls, Sarah and Tina, and two Syrian guys. A PR professional, an engineer, an English graduate, an economist. We talked about Hamburg, about studying, about food, about parties, about what our parents do. We told each other of our childhood homes. We could have been a group of exchange students. When you sit down for a casual dinner, there is little difference between these guests, refugees, and other international friends if you don’t choose to focus on it.