It was January 3, 1946, in a small village in the very center of Vietnam with a strange name almost impossible to pronounce. The vestiges of the Second World War were still very visible and the conflicts of the Indochina War were already foreseen.
I had never had a family vacation, except for a week when my mother and sister and I went to surprise my father in Vilamoura where he was on a training course. I went into the hotel, saw him at the reception desk, and ran towards the street to tell my
It is three weeks since I arrived in Kenya, and I have not seen much yet so will stay here until the beginning of next year, which will be the end of the 30 days of volunteering that I am doing for the project “From Kibera With Love”.
Hello, do you still remember me?!