What would home be for me in Brazil? The cave? The favela? The streets? The orphanage? I’m quite certain that the folks at the orphanage no longer think I belong there. My home, right now anyway, is in Sweden. Who knows, maybe in ten years my home will be in the US or Australia or Norway. My home is where I’m happy, where I feel safe, where my friends and family are. My home is where I work and where I feel at home.
