The housing I chose to stay in while abroad is called SSH, a student housing organization in the Netherlands that offers housing for international students, most of whom are on exchange. The entire housing complex holds over 300 students. When I first arrived, it felt a bit scary. There are no communal spaces besides the kitchens, just rooms down a long corridor. Not exactly the warmest place to call home.

My kitchen? Honestly, I used to hate it. It’s small, cramped, and kind of ugly. Sharing it with 21 other people meant it was always a mess: dirty dishes, old beer cans, and a lack of care. My first few weeks here were dreadful.

But slowly, things changed. We’re a group of people from all over the world—US, Brazil, Czechia, Portugal, Lebanon, Morocco, Ireland, Taiwan, Georgia, Australia, and more. The more we met in the kitchen, the more we began to enjoy our time tother. Now, we joke that it’s a communist kitchen because there’s no “mine” or “yours,” We’re always borrowing each other’s spices, pans, and random kitchen gadgets. But I would rather call it communal sharing because it comes from a place of love and care.

What really makes this kitchen special isn’t the space, it’s the people. We started doing international dinners, where everyone cooks something from their country and we come together to share. It’s become one of the highlights of my time here. Now, its just become “family dinner,” because that’s what it feels like. Every time we cook, there’s laughter, games, and sharing whatever we’ve made. The kitchen has become a hub for all social gatherings—every night, if I feel like socializing, all I need to do is walk to the kitchen and I know something will be going on in there: charades, dance parties, studying, deep intellectual conversations, storytelling, birthdays, you name it.

This kitchen taught me that a space doesn’t have to be perfect to feel like home. Sure, it’s kind of ugly and definitely still chaotic, but it’s become the center of our little community. We’ve made so many memories in this kitchen, and it’s crazy to think how much it’s shaped my time here. I never thought I would be saying this when I first arrived four months ago, but I am quite sad to say goodbye to this housing, not because I’ll miss the clogged drains and sticky floors from who-knows-what, but because of the people. We have such different experiences and understandings of the world, but we’re more similar than I ever thought. It’s sad to think that I’ll have to say goodbye in a little over a month, but it’s quite endearing to know that whatever corner of the world I go, I’ll have a friend nearby. I will never forget the connections I’ve made, and I’ll surely never forget kitchen #12—or, written in Dutch, Keuken 12.