Last weekend I went to Ciudad Juárez to join the march for Peace, organized to demand the end of violence in Mexico, especially in Ciudad Juárez, called by some news sources the most dangerous city in the world.
With about a hundred other El Pasons, I walked across the international bridge to join the march.
What amazed me most about this gathering of thousands was how many regular people came out with pictures and the names of their dead.
It’s as if they were there, not for political purposes, not for symbolic reasons, but because they wanted to remember their loved ones, wanted to shout their names, wanted someone to know, wanted justice, wanted somebody to do something.
I took a lot of photos that day, but the ones that struck me the most were those of the family members and friends of the dead.
