Hi, I’m
Otto.

Everything was new. Even the quiet.

Otto arrived with a small bag, his favourite green scarf, and a list of places he wanted to explore. During the day, the new city felt full of possibility. In the evening, he would make tea and realise there was nobody nearby to tell about it.

He missed the easy things: a familiar face at the door, an invitation that didn’t need planning, someone who knew how he liked his tea. He called home. He went for walks. Still, a busy street could feel lonely.

He nearly stayed home.

One Saturday, Otto spotted an invitation to a little neighbourhood walk. He read it three times. What if everyone already knew each other? What if he had nothing to say?

He went anyway. At the meeting point, someone waved. Another person admitted it was their first time too. They walked by the river, compared terrible directions, and stopped for something warm. Otto didn’t need a brilliant story. He only needed to be there.

Then someone asked, “Next week?”

The next walk felt easier. He remembered a name. Someone remembered his scarf. A coffee became a shared meal; a shared meal became a small circle that kept making plans.

It wasn’t perfect or instant. Some days he still missed home. But now there were people to ask how his day had gone, and people whose days he wanted to hear about. The new city was slowly becoming his city.

There’s room for your first hello, too.

Otto is our reminder that belonging often starts with something ordinary: showing up, listening, and making a little room for someone else. Your circle doesn’t have to look like his. It just needs somewhere to begin.