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I believe that we all need to discover who we are. Not the parts that have been shaped by our experiences and scars, but the pieces that come from stories, places, tastes and smells. The things that resonate deep within ourselves that make us feel at home regardless of wherever we physically are. Both of my parents were European immigrants that came to Canada in their teens. I wanted to see the streets they walked on and places they lived myself. In the summer of 2013 I told my parents the plan. My father went online and showed me where he grew up, he also printed maps for me to take on the trip. By the time I arrived alone in Zagreb from Munich on an overnight train I had been travelling for just over two weeks. Bjelovar was only a short distance from Zagreb, yet the train would take almost two hours. After some time I opened the bag I brought to check the map and eat some lunch. In my haste I had neglected to pack the maps my father printed for me. Anxiety flooded over me, how could I be so careless? There was a woman sitting across from me and we made eye contact. She smiled and I offered her a piece of gum. She heard my accent and we started to talk. Her name was Elma and she asked me what I was doing so I told her about my father and the map back in Zagreb. She asked my father’s last name and when I told her she freaked out, “Botincan? Your last name is Botincan? My boyfriend’s last name is the same” She promised to help in any way she could. When we arrived in Bjelovar we went to see the town map, and I tried to remember details of what my father told me. One piece I could remember was that the street name was comprised with two words and one started with a “k”. The town map only had one two-named street that started with an “O” and “K”. They both walked me as far as they could before going home and wished me luck. I walked a few blocks and turned down the street name I thought to have remembered, but didn’t recognize the homes. After experiencing some major doubt I walked around a bend and stopped. Overwhelming emotion poured over me, and uncontrollable tears streamed down my cheeks. The moment left me oblivious to the man with his children in the yard that walked up to me and tried to console me. The Srdić’s insisted on inviting me into their home and they spent the night showing me the town and relics that still stood, like the theatre, that were used during the time my father lived there. It was one of the most beautiful days of my life.