Today's class was really boring. I felt like I was coming down with a cold and didn't feel well to begin with. Then we had class with Fernanda, in our classroom with the echo, with her voice that is kind of grating and her accent that is difficult to understand, and her manner that is something like a feather in the wind, she will blow whatever way the wind takes her. I was irritated when I got there because I made an honest attempt to do the homework she assigned on Tuesday. It was an exercise that said, "change to the past" (in Spanish - al pasado) - well, what the hell is the past? If we're talking about indicative, there is the preterit and imperfect, and if it's subjunctive, there are more possibilities, so, first the directions didn't help me. Then I looked at the handouts she gave us on Tuesday to see if I could get any clues. Not helpful at all. I thought that learning doesn't have to involve detective work. It seems that there is the assumption that we can just do this stuff, which, if that is the case, why are we doing it? I called Mike and he said what he thought we were supposed to do, though he wasn't sure. I ended up doing what turned out to be a rote exercise and a total waste of my time.
So I got to class early hoping to talk to Fernanda about how I'm feeling in the class. Nobody came. I started reading my short story for Marcela's class tomorrow. When Fernanda came in we chatted a bit and she went off on something, then Anna arrived. The thing I'm finding hard is getting an opportunity to say what I really want to say. I didn't want to just jump right in and say, "listen Fernanda, I'm feeling like this class isn't really helping me with what I need", but instead had to make small talk, but small talk here is not small, it can go on forever. So once Anna got there, my opportunity was lost, and then Mike arrived, and then Cynthia and then the class started, well, something started, but I'm not sure it was a class.
We went from one topic to another until finally Fernanda gave us another article from a magazine about an organization that is working to help discontented youth return to school. It was an interesting article. She gave it to us and then the conversation continued. I can't even tell you what they were talking about. I wanted some structure, because I am not doing well with this "whatever way the wind blows" kind of conversation. So I tried to tune everyone out and began to read the article. It was interesting and I understood it, so I continued reading, and the rest of them continued talking about whatever.
Finally, when I finished, Fernanda asked me a question about it and when I began to answer, either she, or someone else in the class, cut me off and I fell into silence again. It is very frustrating.
She then gave us some time to begin reading, we read for about 3 minutes until Anna asked a question about something, and then Fernanda started again on a long explanation in response to Anna's question.
Finally, someone asked for a break.
We've learned that if we take our breaks before the other classes, we can get into the cafeteria without having to wait in a long line, and also find a place to sit.
Before the break, I asked Fernanda if we could go to the Plaza de Mayo because the mothers of the disappeared were having a demonstration, as they do every Thursday at 3:30. Since our class ends at 4, we'd have to leave early to catch them. She said it was ok.
After our break, I went up to the room early, hoping to get to talk to Fernanda again (Mike stayed in the cafeteria to give me some time to talk), but she wasn't in the room and when she returned, everyone else was there too.
But I said we wanted to go and see the Madres. Mike wasn't coming and Cynthia had an appointment at 4 and couldn't go, so it was me and Anna. Then Anna asked Fernanda if she wanted to go.
I'm going to cut to the chase instead of going on about how long it took us to get there (with me worried that we were going to miss it).
We arrived at the Plaza de Mayo around 3:50. Today was a cold day. The sky was gray and full of dark clouds, the wind blew in gusts and the plaza was filled with hundreds of pigeons that I hadn't noticed when we were there before. We could see the madres as we approached the plaza carrying a large blue banner and blue flags that were flapping in the wind. As we approached, with the dark sky and the cold wind blowing, the scene took on a surreal appearance. The mothers were old, grandmothers, small, frail, wearing white handkerchiefs on their heads. There were not many of them. They were joined by others marching behind them, who also held blue flags but were not wearing the white handkerchiefs. Some people held pictures of their loved ones who had disappeared. They walked in silence around the small obelisk that commemorates the first founding of Buenos Aires on May 25. People ran in front of the madres trying to get photos.
There was a somber, reverent feeling in the air. Every now and then the pigeons would soar overhead in a group, the wind would gust, but otherwise, there was total silence except for the sounds of the city buzzing around us.
A group of school children appeared by me and surrounded me. Their teacher explained to them what was happening. That these mothers came here every Thursday to protest and demand that the government take action to find out what happened to their loved ones who disappeared. "Look", the teacher said, "can you see them holding the photos?"
I wondered what would happen when the last of the madres was gone. Would someone else continue the call for justice that they have been making in silence for 30 years?
Fernanda and Anna had stopped at the entrance to the plaza and were talking, but I wanted to get in closer to the action, so I left them behind. I went to join them and Anna told me that Fernanda pointed out one man who was holding a photo of someone who had just disappeared this past September right before he was set to testify on what he knew about the disappearances under the military junta. The disappearances, the denial, continues. And the mothers continue to march.
I was glad we left class today to see them. I've posted some videos that I found. One is an interview of the madres from a long time ago (I don't know when it is from, but they are a lot younger than the ones I saw today). The other is a poem written in homage to them.
Today I want to dedicate my blog to the mothers in solidarity with their fight for justice.
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