Years ago, my grandfather showed me his photographs from a trip to Bucharest in 1953. He had participated in an international youth gathering, an event I knew nothing about at that time. Since then, a desire to learn more about this peculiar festival has taken me to many archives, libraries, museums, conferences, and bookshops, as well as private homes and cafés, where I have had the chance to talk to people who once experienced those celebrations. The road has been bumpy at times and I would not have reached the end without guidance, criticism, encouragement, and friendship from numerous people. I am very thankful to all of them.
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