My mother always insisted that our family was cursed, as if we were born in a Márquez story. My great-grandfather arrived to Ohio in the '30ies with a group of Hungarians, or as they were called, with the 'Hunkies'. He became an industrial worker in a factory then he started a family and he no longer wanted to go home. Here, he could aspire to somewhat more than in Europe. They were poor in the US too, but not pauper. He could never purchase a house, he moved from rented apartments to rented apartments until he died. My grandfather did not want to live like this, without any stable points in life, he wanted to find his absolute zero point to which he could return no matter what happened. Finally, this wish manifested in the form of a trailer, so what he longed for came true in part. My mother was born here, they have been straying around with the moving sardine can – as she called it – until she became 17 years old and they managed to save enough money to buy a house.