Local integration: Searching for the right recipe

In the World Kitchen newcomers and long-time residents cook together once a month. For Gillebeert it’s a very special place because of the warmth, curiosity, and chatting. And the ease with which things she often struggles with at work are successful here. “We know how integration works,” she says while cooking on this evening. “It’s just that right now we aren’t implementing it consistently everywhere in Germany.” There’s a lack of resources, patience, and political momentum. That makes places like this all the more necessary. 

The room is a colorful chaos, but you soon realize that a quiet man standing on the sidelines is actually at the center of it all. “Ahmet, where can we find more chairs?” “Ahmet, we need a band-aid.” 37-year-old Ahmet Disci co-founded World Kitchen in late 2024. “In Turkey, they say: If you’re hungry, you can’t think straight,” he says. 

Disci came to Germany in 2023. “I still regularly wonder why I ended up here.” The career soldier had to flee after 13 years of service in the Turkish Army because he was being investigated by the public prosecutor’s office for allegedly suspicious contacts to NGOs. He spent six months in jail. A language course brought him to Ingelheim; his wife and son followed later. Together with his friend Ibrahim, he wanted to create a place where people could socialize and, at the same time, learn German better. “I’ve benefited from the support I received in Germany,” he says. “I want to give something back.”

A brief lull in the kitchen. All the ingredients are in the pot. Ferouz and Nawal are preparing the salad with lemons and herbs. A fresh scent fills the air.

Dominique Gillebeert is from Belgium, studied moral philosophy in Germany and Finland, and wrote her PhD on “Philosophizing with Children.” What she learnt was that content shouldn’t be communicated with a sledgehammer approach, but rather by “creating an environment for exchange”. And of course, this also applies to dealing with adults or in Ingelheim’s integration work. “It’s about bringing people with shared interests together,” she says, “Cooking, sewing, social media – all that opens doors.”

In 2009, Dominique took over as head of the newly established Migration and Integration Office in Ingelheim. “We serve as the first point of contact for all residents – those who’ve been here a long time and recent arrivals  – and coordinate the integration work.” This town of 34,000 has a broad spectrum of projects ranging from the IngelHEIMAT Friendship Festival to intercultural tours of the town. Since Dominique has a departmental head’s job in local government, she can ensure that integration, diversity, and participation are considered in all areas. This is one reason why Ingelheim was honored with the European Commission’s Impact of Diversity Award. “We see ourselves as enablers,” she says. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. What’s important is that we try.”

The harmonious, almost family-like atmosphere at Café Dia is in sharp contrast to the current debate on immigration, integration, and urban security in Germany. “The exclusively negative narrative is quite stressful,” Dominique says. “We’re taking backward steps from what we worked so hard to achieve.” The 46-year-old has multiple perspectives on the topic of integration. Besides her daily work on the ground, she’s also active in the Municipal Quality Circle on Integration Policy which brings together 34 municipalities from across Germany.

That’s why she’s very aware of the current challenges: “When it comes to reforms, practical municipal experience is often not taken into account,” she says. In February 2026, the Federal Office for Migration and Refugees stopped admitting people to voluntary integration courses, which has impacted 130,000 people, including Ukrainians, those with temporary residence permits, and EU citizens. “They didn’t consider what that means for us on the ground,” she says.

But what bothers her most, Dominique says, is the polarized thinking in the integration debate. “I have no problem with the fact that some people are critical of migration,” she says. “But we need an honest culture of debate.” Instead, she notes, we’re seeing highly emotional disputes about who’s to blame, people being placed under general suspicion and symbolic political action. “Only if we speak honestly and openly will we find long-term strategies that are up to the complex challenge.”

That’s why last year, she took part in the Changemaker Program, an initiative within the Robert Bosch Stiftung’s The Integrators project, which focuses on building methodological skills and resilience among leaders working in the field of local integration. “It was extremely valuable to keep seeing different perspectives and to learn from and support each other,” she says. In the workshops, she gained many insights into how to structure her office “so we can meet the needs of our diverse clientele, while also ensuring our local government colleagues are still with us.” 

The stories from colleagues in the federal state of Saxony-Anhalt in eastern Germany about the tense atmosphere there made the challenges in Ingelheim seem more manageable: “The program was a real source of energy.” She is sure we need to look up from our everyday routines more often: “The challenges are real. But thanks to the commitment of many people, we’re accomplishing a great deal. That’s something we need to realize, especially right now.”

By 6 p.m., the plates are empty but the guests and cooks are still sitting around. The mandi rice dish has been completely devoured. Then the date paste dessert is passed around.

Ahmet Disci is sitting at the table next to the door and engaged in lively conversation with a 59-year-old woman. Petra Zimmer was his first contact in Ingelheim and they formed a so-called language tandem, where committed local residents are paired with immigrants to practice German regularly in everyday life, often during long walks. “She spoke so clearly – that was important to me,” Ahmet says. He has passed his B1, B2, and C1 exams, “every single one,” Petra says and sounds genuinely proud.