My new home

So what really makes a home? I don't think people realize that it is the little things that really matter. like a candle that smells like the fresh baked cookies mom used to bake, or just a few extra lamps to make the room look warm and cozy instead of stark and washed out.  I have been living in my 60 person accommodation for one week now. There are color coded hallways based mostly on the nationalities we requested, and each hall has its own bathroom stalls and kitchen. I am living in the yellow hall, and living next to Canadians, a UK guy, and a German guy. So unfortunately, my kitchen smells like beer and dirty dishes. Therefore I do not call that "my" kitchen. Instead, I walk a few extra steps to the orange corridor, or what I like to call the "Spanish quarters." Everyone living in this hall can speak Spanish, some from Spain, some from USA, and even some from France. It's quite impressive. So I prefer this kitchen because everyone is neat, hospitable, and knows how to cook some seriously yummy food. On our first night of arrival, with no food and completely exhausted, our neighbor Gloria cooked Jimena and I our first meal. With only knowing us for about 30 minutes, her incredible hospitality and kindness confirmed that I made the right choice living in Vilhemsro.

eggs, tomatoes, zucchini, a Swedish cracker with fresh butter and mozzarella cheese.