Our visit to Parque de la Memoria was a beautiful conclusion to our study of human rights in Argentina. As Fernando told us upon arrival, the park represents the duality of memory such that just as we must look back, so too must we look forward. The names of thousands of disappeared etched on walls in the park stand in contrast to families and students having picnics and taking a walk. 

statue at parque de la memoria

Located on the beautiful coastline of Rio de la Plata, we were able to look out to the water where many were disappeared and murdered via “transfers” – a euphemism for being drugged and thrown out of an airplane into the water. Such method of murder leaves no trace. The names of the disappeared are listed on long, sprawling walls in the park, with many slates blank and yet to be filled in. Large, unique sculptures are scattered throughout the park.

statue of a child in rio de la plata looking out to sea in memory of those who were disappeared

Throwing flowers into the water to commemorate and honor the disappeared

In remembrance of those who were disappeared, and in quiet reflection of our viaje, we placed the flowers that Fernando brought into Rio de la Plata. It was quiet, somber, and sobering.  

For me, trying to imagine grieving a disappeared loved one feels like a profound and enduring hunger. There is a need to be satiated that will never be met. Small actions like offering flowers or visiting names perhaps chip away at the famine, but never satisfy it. I feel privileged to have experienced this trip and motivated to amplify the voices of the disappeared and their families. Every story is worth telling and every loss worth grieving. Each story gives way to similar loss, grieving, and erasure that has happened and will continue to happen in our home country. However small my individual impact may be, hearing these testimonies and stories has animated me to do my part in preventing future cyclical violence in the U.S.