Dia Feriado "Holiday"

I've been wanting to blog about a recent holiday that was celebrated on March 24- a day set aside for remembering the Golpe de Estado (coup) of 1976, when the military dictatorship took over.

I have two main informants here in Argentina- Gaby y Laura. They are the people I ask questions about all things Argentine- the culture, customs, where to buy something, the history the politics (I also learn Spanish from Gaby y Laura). The day after the holiday, Laura brought in some information about La Dictadura to read and discuss during our lesson. I learned many interesting things- as we were discussing, it eventually became Laura narrating to me what things were like (though she was born just before all of this occurred). I'm going to talk about what she told me (keeping in mind that she gave me general ideas and not precise details)

Isabel Perón was the second wife of Juan Perón (his first wife being Eva/ "Evita" of course) was elected president of Argentina after Juan died. During her presidency many economic, social, and political problems arose; Laura told me there were military/political factions fighting- killing each other, bombing and kidnapping, things were in chaos.

Proceso de Reorganización Nacional- El Proceso

When the military dictatorship took over they called their reforms the National Reorganization Process- what is referred to as El Proceso.

Laura told me that during this time (1976-1983) approximately 30,000 Argentines disappeared- they were kidnapped, tortured, and murdered. A few main provinces such as Buenos Aires, Córdoba and Santiago del Estero(?) were affected by El Proceso- provinces with lots of students, political scientists, and journalists. I was told that students, journalists, political scientists- anyone who expressed sentiments or ideas opposed or not in-line with those of La Dictadura, were taken, killed, or tortured.

This sign was posted before the holiday on a building directly behind the mall- very close to where we work.

It signifies: 33 years since the coup, neither forgotten, neither pardoned.

On the 23rd of March, I was walking through the Plaza San Martín and I saw people painting these in preparation for the holiday:




The night of the 24th, there was a large march/parade with all kinds of people carrying banners and flags (FYI- pretty sure the rainbow flag here is a symbol of Andean culture, it was common to see it up north). Some of the banners had messages against violence, abuse- many were for derechos humanos (human rights).




In the Plaza San Martín, some celebrated by sitting in a circle and sharing a joint (no! we weren't "some")


There was choripan...


There were couples gettin' friendly (we always take pictures because we're still not used to the fact that PDA's are totally acceptable- you see people seriously making out on side of the street all the time).



Many children were taken during El Proceso- they were kidnapped and often times given to families of military members or to families with connections to the military. Pregnant women were tortured and their babies taken.

Madres de Plaza de Mayo

When El Proceso ended, a group of women calling themselves the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo organized and would protest in the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires- I've posted some picures from my Buenos Aires trip:

They would march outside this building (like the White House of Argentina except it's the Pink House-  literally, it's the Casa Rosada where the President resides).  The Mothers are a group dedicated to finding children and other loved ones that disappeared during the dictatorship and reuniting them with their families.

My Spanish teacher Laura told me the story of a little girl that was playing in her house while her family's maid was sweeping the floor with the TV on. There was a news special with a woman being interviewed in the Plaza de Mayo.  The woman was holding up a picture of her lost granddaughter that had been kidnapped during the dictatorship (the girl's mother was killed); the maid watching the TV stopped in shock and started crying because it was the same little girl inside the house playing!  She reported to the newspaper and helped reunite this little girl with her real family.

Laura told me that there were many cases like this, and many cases where children didn't want to leave their "military" families or have anything to do with their real families.  Imagine growing up and then finding out your "family" kidnapped you from your real parents that were probably tortured and murdered. 

Alta Cordoba y La Plaza San Martin

Amanda and I started our first official day by rolling out of bed at 11:00 AM- so much for waking up early.  We walked around Barrio Alta Cordoba- the neighborhood we are staying in; we found a nice fruit/vegetable/meat shop. I guess it is like the the South American version of the Southeast Asia wet market- though not as chaotic.  We saw a sign that said that we weren't supposed to touch any of the merchandise; we watched as people would grab a ticket and wait for someone to help them.  They would point to and ask for what they wanted and then take a ticket up to the counter to pay.  The durazanos (peaches) and las uvas (grapes) were fantastic. We also stopped at a panderia and bought a nice pastry for breakfast. 

We then walked to the Plaza San Martin to look around.  I'll be honest, I don't remember a lot about who San Martin is (though I've read of him in my travel books), I think he's an important military figure that lead during the fight for Argentina's independance from Spain (It's 2:00 AM and I'm too lazy to google it).  I'm sure we'll go back to La Plaza de San Martin and we'll learn about the history in more depth.

There was an amazing cathedral in the plaza

We initially didn't think photos inside were allowed, but then we saw a bunch of Argentines taking pictures so we figured it was okay.  The inside was absolutely amazing; I've been inside dozens of Hindu and Buddhist temples but I can't recall ever going inside a cathedral- especially one so old. It dates back to the late 1700's or 1800's, I don't know because it's 2:00 AM.  (My blog is my journal, I'm determined to keep one because I regret not doing so while I lived in Malaysia; I'm making myself write as much as I can). 

We also walked around the square and towards some other cathedrals and monuments.   I saw what looked to me like an Argentine mullet.

A view of one of the side-streets:

We briefly walked through the Jesuit Block...more to come later. 

A cool picture:

Around 7:00 we stopped for a drink; I've found that you must specify that you want hielo (ice) with your drink. I loved how the ice was served in a bucket with tongs, I'm not being facetious either, I really did think it was great.

We did some more grocery shopping... I didn't buy these but thought Christina would like to see a picture.

We headed home with a banana y dulce de leche ice cream cone; dulce de leche is a very popular flavor- tastes like a caramelized milk. 

It was a great day over all.  I had forgotten how challenging it can be to do simple tasks like buying groceries, navigating where you need to go, or even figuring out how the key to your apartment works- this is the kind of stuff that is really exciting and new at first, but then builds and builds to become a really stressful part of culture shock.  They did tell us all of this kind of stuff would happen last semester in our prep-class but I figured that I'd lived abroad before and knew what to expect- in a way I did.  It didn't get through to me until now that mom and dad were there to figure out where to buy groceries, navigate us around, and everything else while I tagged along.  I'll figure it out though... one day at a time.  

"We're There!"

Okay, I couldn't resist adding this picture... you know, when Harry and Lloyd finally make it to Aspen after riding on a ridiculous scooter and Lloyd says, "We're There!"?

After 35 hours (yes you read that correctly) we finally made it to Cordoba, Argentina.  It used to take us 35 hours (or more) to get to Penang, Malaysia which is way further.  We had a 6-hour layover at JFK in New York last night....why we flew to New York instead of Miami or Atlanta or even LA, I don't know.  I hate to say it, but I have to say it- JFK is a complete dump- it's even dumpier than LAX.  Below is a picture taken at Aeroparque Jorge Newberry in Buenos Aires...it clearly is not a dump!  We thought we'd be able to get a "New York hotdog" or "New York pizza"- something unique to New York, but no, it was all junk you could get at the Provo Town Center Mall.

The security guard immediately came over and told us no pictures after the shot above was taken. Maybe they thought we were staking the place out for a heist or something?

So we backed up a bit to sneak another picture.

Our flight from Buenos Aires to Cordoba was delayed an hour... I took this shot while we were waiting to board- turns out we never did board this plane because our flight was cancelled right as we should have been boarding.  We mad-dashed to the information desk, had new boarding passes issued, and then took a little bus out onto the jetway to board a different plane (from the rear end of the plane which is a first for me).

I haven't snapped any photos of the city yet because it was dark when we arrived;  I was also having a "What The Hell Did I Just Get Myself Into?" moment.  For those who have traveled: is there really a better way to phrase it?  

The professor we are working with in Cordoba- Alicia Sersic- was nice and picked us up from the airport.  She had us over for dinner and we met her husband Andrea, and her two kids (I can't remember their names).  They had made three different types of Empanadas- one was a carne or beef, one was cheese and onion, and the other was another type of spiced beef- they were all really good. They had a type of "salsa" they put on it...it was good but not spicy like my Mexican mamma has taught me to appreciate.  I have to admit that I was freaked out a bit- Amanda has been practicing Spanish and I have not (I have no excuses).  She was able to ask questions and reply while I kind of just sat there and listened.  I could understand just about everything that was talked about which I guess is a good sign- they didn't speak Spanish the whole time so I wasn't left out. I should take a crash-course or hire a tutor or something.  

Where We Are Staying:

Dr. Sersic and Dr. Andrea have converted the top floor of their home into a Hostel- there are two entrances so we can come and go as we please without bothering them.  We are the first guests and have the whole place to ourselves!

Here is the living room/common room.  There is a TV/DVD player and a really beautiful fireplace we'll never use.  

The bathroom... the best part is that we have a bidet (I figured no one really wants to see that though).

Our Room: it's already a mess.  I don't stand a chance.

Dining room/entrance

Kitchen: fully equipped with a gas stove, oven, microwave, fridge, pots/pans, and dishes.

There is a really beautiful terrace as well... Dr. Sersic's daughter is an artist and painted some murials.  (Don't mind Amanda, she's loopy from the jet lag).

It cooled off nicely and wasn't too humid. This is going to be a perfect spot to play my new guitar- as soon as I buy it.  

It's 3:30 in the morning but my body is still on Utah time.  We're going to make ourselves get up early tomorrow- we are going to figure out the bus system and do some shopping.