Each year Ali and I go there to visit the parents and friends. We walk down the streets and the beautiful textured walls of times that passed and stayed. She starts most of her sentences with "Here used to be…," as we pass the empty swimming pool, the stadium, the beach, the cinema, "peso" shops and "supermercados"… Between the truth and the other truth lie these snapshots of my version of the story. The romantic expectations, the resigned souls scorched by circumstances and the grand ideals.
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