“Desaparecidos “is a project based on my feelings about the illegal detention and kidnapping that I suffered -when I was a teenager- together with my father and the time that followed. Those were the times of the dictatorship in Argentina. This work belongs to the project “Chess in times of peace”, because only in times of peace are revisions possible, even of the tragic.
When was life ever truly ours? When are we ever truly we are? ( Octavio Paz, 1957)
In those adolescent days, within that small town in the province of Buenos Aires, my main dramas were those of teenage love. Nevertheless, it became the time to witness the horror of reality, without space nor time to talk about it. The sense of space and time were not there. There was only that monotone, threatening, incommunicable present time repeated day after day.
I was never a hero nor was I a militant or involved in anything forbidden.
When they released us, there was only silence and inquiring glances, coming both from the people who continued to relate with my family as if the kidnapping had not happened at all, and from those neighbors who suddenly approached us with a silent, solidarity look. My parents and I became more resilient and that was thanks to those silent supports and the words written in the looks of those people.
Other relatives, friends and neighbors quickly drifted from us and immediately stopped having a relationship with my family.
The world was still spinning, but the repressors kept passing next to my house. I would meet them walking around the corner, when I came home from school, and they would wave and smile at me from the Green Ford Falcon (*).
My parents and I had nowhere else to go. But we were still alive, and played our roles to live a normal life. For my family’s situation, in that town and in that time, that camouflage was the escape.
My parents and I had nowhere else to go. But we were still alive, and played our roles to live a normal life. For my family’s situation, in that town and in that time, that was the escape.