When people ask whether I feel more Spanish or German, I usually answer that it does not really matter, because I am a European. The truth is that I don’t know. My parents were migrants from Madrid, the amazing summer frying pan of Spain, to Kassel, the coldest and probably most quiet town in Germany. We lived in some kind of friendly ghetto together with Turks, Polish, Portuguese, Italian and other Spanish migrants. Then I studied in Germany and Ireland. Now I live in Brussels and the other part of my family, coming from my wife, is Slovak. So, I really don’t know what I feel most like or where I belong to. That sounds bleak, but is actually a lot of fun. I don’t belong to one place, but I certainly know, where I like sharing all the little pieces of my belonging and with whom.
Brussels is a place where I found a lot of like-minded people. And writingbrussels is even a group with like-minded people that write. I created the group in 2011 and am happy with its ongoing vibe. My stories are about, well, identity and belonging. And about the freedom to choose both.