One day after an immigrant told he would never be able to “fit” back home, I found a key in the street near a second hand furniture market. I went to find out if that key could go back home. I tested more than 40 keyholes, and it didn’t “fit”. I took it home. Then I gave it to a friend that, for a long time, had tried to get the CZ citizenship and was in the legal process to deal with the denial of it. Few days after she got citizenship. She gave it back to me and I forgot it in my coat for some weeks. Then I re-found it the day I went to Immigration Police Office, when I went to pick my permanent residency, and nervously put my hands into my pockets. Today the key is with a woman from Azerbaijan that is trying to get a long residency permit after living in Prague for six years. I mapped the imagined territory of each one of us. Putting together the country where we were born and the other in which we have made a life. It was a personalized imagined country, the “place” to which each one of us belongs.
2018- Copenhagen, Prague