On the Road With Bush and Chávez
When I was a little boy in San Félix de Guayana, a Venezuelan village on the banks of the Orinoco, the doctors who worked in the poorest communities were from the United States. My father, an honest lawyer who was unemployed his entire life, felt a genuine sense of pride in the United States, and in time, he transmitted this pride to me. One of the first books he ever gave me, covered in an olive-green dust jacket and stamped with gold-foil letters, was an illustrated biography of John F. Kennedy, his personal hero.
All of this feels like nostalgia now.… Seguir leyendo »