By: Katia Camejo
Havana, Cuba. - How could anyone imagine that the same path would unite two beings so distant? Their origins, their ways of behaving, their dreams, could hardly match them.
Others were the signs for the meeting ground: fearlessness, cast-iron solidarity and altruism as a flag.
From Patagonia to Rio Grande, from the largest Antillean Island to North America ... climbing seemed the way.
Life took them back and forth. It took away their youth and earmarked them for great crossroads. It placed them before death and death died of hatred for not knowing what to do with them.
The most genuine and Cuban smile conquered the strong lineage of the southern guerrilla man. What nobody managed in the campaign, a thousand jokes and a fellow rifle evolved into friendship of legends.
What is duty? Ask them. And homeland, is it the piece of land where you are born? And a combat weapon, can it be a toy? They would never say always.
And the children, are they the ones that we brought to the world? Are they those we find beautiful with their fine clothes, shoes and schools? They may all be; those we raise in our arms to smile with them. The ones we left at home to save others.
Knight errands, Quixotes of this people, twinned by the mountains without chairs, the pain of the poor and a great helmsman.
United and close, they are not wandering souls ... they are the everyday sun, the scarves of my child, poets of life, and songs of the future...
Translated by Pedro A. Fanego.
