The streets of Santiago. Streets that the sun overheats and where so much generous blood has been shed. Streets that have seen everything human lived, fear and courage, the pierced body of Frank and the irrepressible Vilma.
 
Streets where the Revolution is also a spiritual condition, a joy with a name. Santiago that is Santiago, still Santiago, with Fidel in its streets.
 
As in life, five years after his death, Fidel maintains that extraordinary capacity to sweep aside any hackneyed formula; to conjure up spontaneous affection, the closeness that is usually reserved for the most beloved.
 
Just as when he first met the people, the tributes paid him now have the warmth of the spontaneous, the loyalty reserved only for leaders who always keep their word, who give their all for a collective dream.
 
Almost all chronicles about the pilgrimage through the streets of Santiago that took place on Saturday, remembering the Comandante en jefe, on the fifth anniversary of his burial, refer to the obvious sincerity of the participants. Streets that could well have been those of the whole of Cuba, because Fidel is rooted in the nation, absolved by its history and alive in it.
 
After the march, when the streets of Santiago, of the island, are once again filled with daily activity, Fidel remains present, reminding us that the Revolution is not a matter of dates, but a country that is constructed every day, with work, thought and lots of courage.