Esteban Diaz’s Diary

I spent my childhood with all of my family in a very humble neighborhood in Buenos Aires. There I had the opportunity to meet a communist for the first time, my father, although at the time I didn’t know exactly what that meant.

—He spoke of how beautiful the world would be if there weren’t borders and in place you would find bouquets of flowers; a world without racism or xenophobia.

I’m an Argentinean. I was born in a province called Tucuman, in the north of the country, but I grew up in Buenos Aires, the capital. When I was 17, I learned that there was a new project in Cuba that was giving out scholarships to study medicine.