La Pura Vida

La ESMA

Mmmm...hot jasmine green tea with milk and an apple (surprise addition to the fruit basket!). Very glad to be here in my pajamas after the last 12 hours out, a few of those in public transportation, most recently the crazed subway station.

We spent the first half of the day at the Escuela de Mecánica de la Armada.

Though now a memorial space, this expansive area (many buildings) was previously a school for the Navy. It was also one of the largest clandestine centers for the disappeared during the 1976-1983 regime (still not completely sure of the relation between these two – I know that there was one, since for example some Navy members assisted with the repression to climb ranks...). There is talk of turning it into an official museum, but while this is being debated only former victims, family members, and those conducting human rights investigations with special permission may enter. I felt privileged to be there...and especially so since I could walk into the torture rooms but just as quickly walk back out into the fresh air...clearly not the case for many.

The most striking room for me was called “Capucha” – a sarcastic name which comes from the strip of cloth used to cover the eyes of all detained there. A sign declared it “el sector de concentracion de los secuestrados luego de haber sido torturados en el sotono” – place where the prisoners were taken after being tortured in the basement level (which we also saw...couldn’t process that I was standing in a torture chamber, next to the military-named “Walk of Happiness” which went alongside the different chambers.)... The Capucha looked like a large cold gray/metal attic. On all sides there were previously walls segmenting the “cells” – coffin sized enclosed spaces; we could see the remaining nails in the ceiling. Here people were kept for days, weeks, months, while they waited for their fate to be determined (moved to another location to work, killed/”disappeared)... They lived in their tiny spaces with eyes covered all day except for brief bathroom breaks, which were often further sites of abuse.

Written testimony – Ana Maria Marti, Maria Alicia Pirles, Sara Ostinsky, 1979

“It was in the capucha where one realized that contact with the exterior world no longer existed. In the prison you had nothing to protect or defend yourself, the solitude was everything. This sensation of a lack of protection, isolation and fear is very difficult to describe. It would be however be the closest thing to hell.”

Strategies of resistance...
-Strong one – pregnant women survived crazy circumstances for desire to have children before dying... Births, which took place in a room down the hall, were a source of joy for other prisoners as well (although the babies were usually quickly taken away and replaced, often with families of military or friends who couldn’t have children. This has created incredibly complicated circumstances for countless children who are just now learning about their true identity. Many however still do not and probably will never know roots.). When baby cries were heard people rejoiced for new life in the midst of such disparity.
-People memorized every detail about their surroundings using senses other than vision. Often this helped with later investigations, although the military did cover up staircases and change architecture to throw people off track.
-Some worked math problems in their head all day to keep from going insane
-Many had small conversations with those nearby, especially during showers. Our guide told us that these small interactions gave people the will to continue living (though not always – many suicides were attempted but the guards didn’t allow people to stop eating etc – wanted to send message that THEY were the ones in charge of life and death). In these moments, in addition to brief raw human contact, they could tell neighbors who they were so that if one person got out and not the other the family could be advised that this person had been in ESMA.
-Jokes... many accounts of humor surfacing in these dire surroundings.

Homework time now... but what history. Can’t believe how people were treated in this space. As I try to make sense of it my mind often returns to the psychology experiments where “normal” people quickly turned to mandating oppression. However, this clearly doesn’t justify what occurred. What goes on in people’s minds??... More processing to come.

In lighter news, ate peanut butter today when we made lunch at Brenda's house (salad/eggs/pancakes/Indian curry/hash browns...interesting mezcla)! What a treat - the strong reminder of home made me feel close to tears but in a good way. :)

posted by Colleen @ 7:47 PM