Jail cells and torture chambers became classrooms....

Last week was filled of events connecting back to my investigation over the Argentine dictatorship in result to the fact that 24^th  of March is a national holiday in memory of “El Golpe de El Estado”. Throughout the week at school videos were shown in the auditorium during lunch; each depicting a different child’s story that was born during the dictatorships kidnapped and placed in an illegitimate family. On Wednesday the students of Manuel Belgrano surrounded the balcony’s, gathered on the floors, and flooded the stairways as we paid honor the loss of classmates due the dictatorship.  An alumni of the school got up and spoke about his two friends that where disappeared from the school when the headmaster turned in names of students to the military; alleged terrorist that in fractured upon the state, otherwise known as 16 year-old children. The 10 photographs, black and white, dating back to the 1970´s hung below argentines celest blue flag, depicting the faces of the students. As the alumni told his story his tears quickly changed to anger “!Hijas de Putas!” (son of bicths!) in reference to the military. Hi anger could be easily justified but I found it inappropriate. That morning I had also passed a sign that read never forget nor forgive. What happened was horrible a clear violation of human rights. But these types of actions never result in peace. If Immaculee Llibagaza after being locked in a closet sized bathroom with 9 other women for 3 months during the Rwandan genocide was able to come out and face the man that slaughtered her family with forgiveness, what was the difference in this case? Not that I’m asking the same but anger will not bring vengeance. Off that subject for now… The 24^th I met with my friend to visit a detention center that was being opened into a museum. We boarded the busses in the morning that drove us to the outskirts of the city. In the morning only family members were allowed to enter. Students danced murga (a popular resistance dance originating from Bolivia spoken earlier about in my blog) Inside there was a photo exhibit and art work of children. After the detention center was closed it was turned into a school. Jail cells and torture chambers became classrooms. On the wall in the back where children played for recess was lined with hooks of where they would chain prisoners. On the same wall laid a hundred of small bullet holes. Families gathered with photos of their loved ones and family members. Around noon we headed back to Cordoba; we ate empanadas for lunch and got together with some other friends. At 6 we met up by the Cañada for the march. Tons of people gathered. NGO´s, families, university students. I gathered with my classmates. For about every five blocks we would crouch down repeating the names of the students followed by “presente!” At the end we would all run tearing through the streets to catch up with the parade. The parade ended with the city gathering in the Plaza de San Martin the masses were incredible. It was a once in a life time experience to participate in.