I had just closed my leather suitcase, with the thick strap, ruffled my hair with my hands to give them a hairdo, closed the door behind me without knowing how long I would be away or if I would ever come back.
The wind of change was blowing out of my little village. Students from all over the world were protesting against the decisions of those who wanted to keep the power games unaltered as they always had been.
My heart was pounding. I wanted to be there, I wanted to be there where the story was being written. I wanted to see those places with my own eyes, to hear the speeches, to personally watch the leaders of the movement, the great thinkers. I wanted to talk to them. Continue reading “The Spring of ’68”