Kelsey Cappetta, '12

Their Search Will Never End

     My spring vacation was unlike any other. It did not take me to a beach in Florida nor a cruise through the Bahamas, but rather led me to two of South America’s most unique countries: Argentina and Uruguay. Over the course of nine days, my Latin American Film class and I have explored another continent in order to bring to life all that we have learned throughout the semester. It is one thing to learn about the past inside a classroom; it is another thing to experience it firsthand. I went down to South America with the notion that we would visit various memorial sites in order to remember the past; little did I know that “la historia todavía está abierta.”

     This study tour has truly brought to life the course material that we have studied in a variety of different ways. For example, one part of our course focuses on learning the definitions of cinematographic terminology and then identifying and anazlying these techniques in films from the Argentinean dictatorship. In Buenos Aires, we saw two more recent films, El estudiante and Alicia y John, and I realized just how different the films we have seen in class are in comparison to more recent productions. However, watching these two films was just a small part of the trip in comparison to actually going to visit and see the sites personally.

     Our first day trip brought us to ESMA (Escuela Superior de Mecánica de la Armada), and “overwhelming” is the only word I can use to describe what I felt about it. I went into the trip believing that there were 30,000 detenidos-desaparecidos in Argentina, but little did I know that this type of torture had occurred all over South America. I found the location of the site itself to be even more shocking: ESMA was right in the middle of the city. Our tour guide told us that the detainees would hear the shouts and chants from the soccer stadium that was just ten miles away – it is hard to fathom that a world of torture could be so close to the outside world. I did not understand these implications until I was there in person. Also, when I was at Garage Olimpo, it seemed to be a regular spot in town, and I felt taken aback by this. The site was surrounded by a neighborhood, and because of this, I have to believe that the vecinos could hear what was going on inside, and it was the terror and fear of the unknown that kept them from asking questions. Thanks to these two sites, I realized that the detenidos-desaparecidos were not the only victims of this era: the entire society was a victim. Therefore, just like the monuments in the Parque de la Memoria, we must remember the victims now and forever. However, I have to ask, how are we able to do this today if people are still afraid?

     Throughout the week, I realized that the sites we saw were not museums and that our tour guides were not trying to educate us on the past but rather inform us about the present. This allowed for us to think and reflect in our own way, and in our own time, without the pressure of someone telling us how we should feel. This, for me, was the most challenging part of the trip. I had so many emotions that I did not know how to control them all. From sad, to angry, to frustrated, to amazed, each site brought something new to the table. However, the common theme revolved around the idea of identity: those running the centros clandestinos tried to erase the identities of the detenidos-desaparecidos and replace them with numbers so that they became, literally, no-bodies. In spite of this, no one could be erased. The victims still maintain their identities today because their loved ones will always continue to search for them and keep their memory present.

Graffiti art near Garage Olimpo (Buenos Aires, Argentina)
Reprinted by permission of Omayra Batista © 2012 Omayra Batista