From Europe, I am of Europe. When asked where I come from I will normally answer London, an international city where it is possible to be from anywhere. But really I have found as much of my identity on the Berlin S-Bahn and a small Romanian farm, at the bottom of a glass in Belgium and in Secession Vienna, in both a Belgrade apartment and a cavernous supermarché in the French Jura. Of course, above all else, it is the people I have interacted with, these strangers with different languages that still I have recognised, that have impacted me most.
A Californian girl once told me, somewhere between Prague and Dresden, that her favourite thing about Europe so far was the washing lines.
