In November, I was selected to participate in the EnFoco Sur 2025 festival, held in Cañete, Chile, under the theme 'Latin America: Women's Footprints.' I traveled with María Rosa, 69, a woman who has worked as a domestic helper her entire life. She is a recognized figure in the protests of retirees: firm, outspoken, and several times repressed by the Police and Gendarmerie. Her story was selected for the festival. She was able to cross the mountains thanks to a solidarity campaign I launched on social networks, where dozens of people collaborated for her to be present at this international exhibition. María Rosa took her walking stick — the same one she plants every Wednesday in front of the Congress — and the Argentine flag that has accompanied her since she decided that silence was not an option. For her, the trip meant much more than leaving the country for the first time. In another country, on another territory, her struggle found an echo. She was named, celebrated, and heard. Her voice — small but firm — had a profound impact. Her way of feeling — naive, luminous, honest — ended up illuminating the festival. She was recognized for her story, her sensitivity, and her cultural commitment. Her way of feeling — naive, luminous, honest — ended up illuminating the festival. María Rosa was moved by everything: a simple breakfast, a rainbow, a tiny flower by the side of the road, a Chilean photographer who approached to ask why she marches. It was about being seen with respect, being able to tell how she lives on a minimal pension, how she stretches the month, why she continues to march, and what she expects from the country that saw her work her whole life. The struggle of Argentine retirees ceased to be a distant image and became a living story. I presented part of 'Juventud Acumulada,' a project I have been building for over a year, accompanying the Wednesday marches in front of the Congress. We returned with new images and new questions. As in any struggle, the path is made by walking. And, above all, with the certainty that memory, when it crosses a border, leaves a mark that does not erase. Photos: lau.melonioph.