Stunning long, narrow Chile. People celebrate its independence on Independence Square. But when I got there, mothers were protesting. What happened in the name of the flag hasn’t been honourable, but talking about it is not considered appropriate. In many ways, the city breathes a frozen history, where each citizen goes in his or her own direction.
The mothers of children who disappeared during the dictatorship under Pinochet are still demanding information. Where are you, my son, my daughter? This image sticks to my soul. The happy, running girl gives me the necessary spark of hope for the bright future this beautiful country so deserves and is heading for.