Classroom after classroom at the army-run school in Pakistan tells the same brutal story. A pair of glasses on the floor here, children's pencils and pens there, a page from a schoolbook lying torn and crumpled.
In June of 1960, my father was a 14-year-old Cuban boy with a round-trip airline ticket from Havana to Madrid, Spain. He spent the summer with family in Spain while Cuba fell deeper and deeper into Fidel Castro's revolution. He didn't realize the extent to which his life back home was quickly crumbling and that the winds of revolution were about to change his life forever.