Dear Anglarium,

it’s been 3 years since I first set foot into your four walls. It was the beginning of an era of laughter, tears, but foremost I found a second home with you. Your four walls became a place of security, community, relief when the lectures, seminars, and upcoming exams were dragging me down and I needed an hour of silence or just had to chit-chat with friends, while some random playlist with songs I never heard before was playing in the background. And while the coffee sucked (let’s be honest), it was cheap. Who could have asked for more?

You’ve always been dear to your visitors, nay, inhabitants. You grew on us all. First you looked like the epitome of chaos and disruption but then you showed your soft, warm, cuddly self – you’re a space of connectedness, where everyone leaves a trace of themselves. Be that the indefinable stain on the sofa, the dirty coffee cups in the sink or some other random spot, or the DIY decorations on the windows.

In the middle of this large building (alright, technically on the first floor) you were our safe haven, our sacred space where we felt we were a part of the tower of knowledge and stress (let’s be real) but still in our own little bubble, disconnected yet included at the same time. We are the ones that are freaskishly into the people that share our interests, yet not the biggest extroverts, I reckon. You were like us and that is what made you the perfect place.

You existed in different constellations, spots and colours with different old, ruggy sofas. Different generations cherished your supportive environment, thrived off of your positive energy, where there was always an ear listening to our problems, whether these were related to academic issues or just real life situations.

Spaces like the Anglarium are rare, yet they are necessary. They are spaces that build communities that last for years as we could see when we invited some of the “Founders” of the Aglarium a couple of months ago. We all agreed that the Anglarium was more than just a room where we could study and relax. It was a second home. In the past 20+ years the Anglarium was a space for free thinkers, creative minds, lost souls. You welcomed us all.

Some of us, and I’m including myself here, only really learned what uni life was all about when we walked into your open arms. Prior to that, uni was only a place to learn but now it became a place that had a life too. It breathed life into our studies, the classes and lectures that sometimes felt so out of tune and place. We need places like the Anglarium because university should not only support communities to discuss problems, successes and to find solutions, granted these discussions are vital, but most importantly, these spaces help us to keep moving on. There’s always the Anglarium to look foward to whether that’s between lectures or because of our beloved movie screenings, board game nights, relaxed get-togethers.

The Anglarium gave the PhilTurm a homely, comfortable space where we could forget our duties. It’s unfortunate that we had to move but what’s more unfortunate is that all the free thinkers, creative minds and lost souls are now supposed to share one (rather small) room when there used to be so many different open spaces. However, we are used to creative chaos and despite this we are following the spirit of the Anglarium and open our arms and hearts to the new people we will meet. Even if it just won’t be the same, let’s be real.

I’ll miss you, Anglarium. And so will everyone of us who cherished your soul. Cause that’s what you were – the good soul to all of us wanderers of the PhilTurm.

-Maria

Maria was listening to sounds of a construction site (new record out now!) while writing this article.