One Genfest, many bridges
“I went to Budapest because my aunt suggested it and I trusted her. She was special, and had always been there for me throughout my most difficult years. My problems flared up when I started high school. This new phase of my life was very demanding. I started to experience the problems of adolescence, some of my friends were going off track and I didn’t feel understood by my family. Maybe I tried to grow up too quickly. I got to know a boy who I felt was my only real friend. And even so, inside I seemed to be always on the brink of anguish. I became more and more isolated, except for the rare moments when someone would listen to my silences and, without posing many questions, simply share in something of what I was going through. By the time the school year ended, I had very few friends and was always arguing with my family. I was also losing weight. I had been trying to hide my eating disorder but it was taking hold of me more and more. It was making my life joyless, draining it of all colour, light and love. I had turned inwards and imposed a state of near total solitude on myself. This was the moment when my aunt, who is a member of the Focolare Movement, invited me to go with her to Loppiano, the Focolare town in Tuscany. I thought to myself, “three days staying who knows where, without school or studying, far from the confines of my normal life; three days in which I can just concentrate on hiding food! Why not?” Actually, it proved to be a kind of caress which reached through my defences. Everywhere we went, I was included and welcomed with respect and delicacy. Someone, after listening to me for a long time, told me about Chiara Lubich. Afterwards I realised that I had somehow stopped thinking about myself and my problems, and – most amazingly – I’d stopped thinking about food! I felt free. As I travelled back home, I ardently wished I could always live like this, like being part of one big family. But the complexities of daily life soon threatened to bring me down again. 
In fact, I hid behind my books while continuing to fill my head with calculations and ways to deceive those around me. I lost even more weight. My family didn’t know what to do with me. But I knew someone was praying for me. I began to go to Sunday Mass, with the excuse of taking a walk or just to get out of the house. I had always believed in God but for the first time I began to consider the possibility that Jesus could understand me and welcome me without condemning me. However, during the next two years at school, things continued to get worse. I became more and more intolerant of my family and other people. I did not respond well to the psychological therapy I was receiving. I continued to weave a web of lies and go my own way. The only time I felt any relief was during the summer holidays when I went far away from home with friends. But the summer was short and I couldn’t go on just feeling fine one month in the year. So at the end of the summer of 2012, my aunt made a new suggestion: to go to the Genfest in Budapest. I agreed and set off with five other young people from my city, including a girl from my class. It was an emotional roller-coaster for me. All those thousands of young people expressing themselves as one. It really was a bridge, not only between countries and cultures, but also a bridge between me and a new life I could embrace. I saw this sea of faces – 12,000 of them – of people ready with me to share in the beginning of a new life. I was part of the “flashmob” on the bridge over the River Danube, each of us writing a personal message on a scarf to exchange with someone from another country. I took part in the peace march. I even took part in the lunch queues. I felt part of an experience of unity, I could go anywhere because anywhere I would be at home. This time when I went back I was with my classmate and together we got in touch with the Focolare community in our home town. By now I knew that I wanted to walk the path of Jesus. It wasn’t going to be easy, my problem with food had very deep roots and the tensions within my family would not just disappear. But I felt I too was a bearer of a new light. Living the words of the Gospel one by one, I found I could begin to take control of my life. Giving of myself wholeheartedly to others, I began to discover how God loves me immensely and has a great plan on my life.”
Genfest 2000: a wave of “Light”
“Eighteen years have passed but the effect of that event still moves all of us who were there. I arrived in Rome on December 1999, a few months before. For me it was the start of a new period during which I worked as a graphic technician at the international Gen Centre, in preparation for the Genfest. I would never have imagined what surprises were in store for me that year! One day in February while I was strumming on my guitar, I thought of Chiara “Luce” Badano, a gen like us, who died 10 years earlier, and in her last moments of life had offered her pain for the success of the Genfest. I still can’t explain how I got the inspiration to compose a song dedicated precisely to her: “Run, run, tell me there’s nothing to fear. Run, run, shine, shine since your light is now in me.” I couldn’t but entitle the song: “Luz”, light. The next day in Loppiano, there was a series of meetings with the group in charge of the music. We had to choose four official songs for the Genfest. A bit nervous, I proposed also that song, and sang it in front of everyone. “Light” was chosen and since then, up to this day, it has been translated into various languages, and has become the symbol of an experience which many young people have made their own, following the example of Chiara Badano, who in 2010 had been proclaimed blessed. After some time her parents, Maria Teresa and Ruggero, upon hugging me said, “You found the best way to make her known, since one who sings, prays twice!” 
That Genfest, the first organized entirely by us youth, was a real challenge, an experience of maturity and unity among us. When the time came to choose a logo, I proposed the motion of a wave which would continue through time. And another gift was that also that logo was chosen! All was ready on 17 August. Early that morning we were already onstage for the sound check and the last details. Before the start, 25,000 people were queueing to enter the Stadium. Three, two, one… with a percussion of various rhythms and a subtle and unceasing sound, like a heartbeat, finally what we had prepared for months began. It was a varied programme to demonstrate to the youth worldwide that unity is possible. At around 6.30 pm it was my turn, with a song I had composed in Costa Rica four years earlier (“A smile is enough”). 
The story of Chiara “Luce” Badano was presented as an example of holiness at the mere age of 18, while images of her luminous and smiling face was projected on the big screen, creating an absolute silence in the audience. We seemed to be living a moment of eternity. Immediately after, the first chords of “Luz” resounded. Lastly, the most expected moment was the proposal of Chiara Lubich: “The idea of a more united world, for which many young people are battling, will not be just a utopia, but will become with time, an immense reality. And the future is above all in your hands.” Then came the launching of “Project Africa.” But it didn’t end there. We still were waiting for the big meeting of the World Youth Day with John Paul II, on 19 and 20 August in the nearby field of Tor Vergata. It was another historical day with two million young people, despite the heat of the day and cold of the night which didn’t wipe out their joy of being together. Also unforgettable was the Pope’s exhortation: “Do not be afraid of being the saints of the Third Millennium.” Before returning to Costa Rica, in December that year I had the chance to greet Chiara Lubich in person and give her a memoir of that magical experience lived that year: a tiny booklet. But the gifts didn’t end there for me: after many years I met Tina, an Austrian girl, who like me had participated in that Genfest. She has now become my wife!”.
Sandro Rojas Badilla
Listen to: “Basta un sorriso” Listen to: “Luz” Photo: Sandro Rojas Badilla
Genfest 2018: Transforming Society
https://vimeo.com/257451488 Choose subtitles: English, Spanish and Italian
I too was at Genfest 1990
Chiara Favotti
During adolescence, going with the Gen and the young people from the united world project, and the any experiences we shared, opened my heart far beyond the walls I knew. It made me hope and think big, of a truly united world. It wasn’t a fantasy, but a new way of thinking, of moving in a new direction, taking little steps, but made of real and authentic brotherhood. I took part in the 1990 Genfest with them. It was an unforgettable experience. For the first time, there was an explosion of happiness, young people from east and west looked in each other’s eyes and squeezed each other’s hands as television cameras broadcasted the scene in the Paleur Stadium to millions of television viewers around the world. We were given a mandate: to bring love back into the world. “Friendship and kindness aren’t enough,” said Chiara Lubich. “Philanthropy isn’t enough, neither are solidarity or non-violence. We have to change from being people focused on their own small interests, to being small daily heroes who are at the loving service of their brothers and sisters in every neighbor.” The next year I left for Moscow. The iron wall that separated East and West may have fallen, but at a great price, pulverizing ideals and an entire social system. There were no winners, nor losers, only the disillusioned, suffering and widespread poverty. It was clear to me: It’s not enough to bring down a wall to create a free and just society. Now, those words that I heard at the Genfest are the only way forward for me: “Only in harmony with each other and forgiveness toward each other can you build a real future.”
Chiara Favotti