When visiting what remains of Club Atletico, I was surprised by how little remained. One would assume that the destruction of what was once a detention center was intentional, but this was a coincidence. Similar to what happened at la perla, survivors have come together and have provided testimony of the horrors that occurred there. After the end of the dictatorship, the community in Buenos Aires came together to ensure that what happened at Club Atletico was not forgotten. I think that it is harder for me to grasp that this was a clandestine detention center because of how little of it remains, but I really admire the actions taken to ensure that no one forgets what happened here. Excavation is still happening at Club Atletico, so much like the other detention center we visited, a significant amount of evidence has not been discovered. For me, this memory site highlighted how these operations were done in plain sight. Although it is stated in Nunca Mas that even families with influence were scared to say anything to protect their family members, I could not imagine living in these neighborhoods or passing by these buildings while aware of what was happening and not saying anything. I could also not imagine being threatened by a government that was torturing and surveying its citizens. I think that Club Atletico being in such a public area should serve as a reminder of the people who were lost. 

Earlier this week we visited the D2 Detention Center near the Plaza de San Martin. It had formerly operated as a police station prior to the military dictatorship, and a detention center to illegally detain thousands during the dictatorship. The detention center has since been turned into a memorial site to preserve history, and remember those whose lives had been taken away from them by the military dictatorship; whether that be the lives of those who had been disappeared, or the children of the disappeared who have yet to be found. Fernando himself was one of the thousands of kidnapped individuals who had been illegally detained in D2, and was gracious enough to come along and recount his experiences.

Before we even entered the building, Fernando had us stand outside in order to take in our surroundings. We noticed that the center was just outside the plaza, adjacent to the main cathedral, and even visible from the bishop’s home; in other words, D2 was in a very central location in the city where anyone passing by would be able to identify the building. But despite this, we were told that many citizens denied even knowing what was going on in D2 despite it being common knowledge, in fear of speaking out against the military dictatorship.

Not ten steps inside the detention center stood a half-broken wall. We all tried to guess what this might have been, why it was built, and why it was broken down only halfway. After we all threw out our guesses, we were told that this wall was built towards the end of the dictatorship as more survivors began to step forward about their experiences in D2. The wall was built in an attempt to elude any allegations and discredit any survivor who tried to testify. But as more reports began to pour in about the horrible crimes in D2, the wall was broken down to reveal the detention center behind it.

Stepping inside D2 was an extremely somber experience. As Fernando led us through each room in D2, he explained what each room had been used for; one room where detainees were led in when they first arrived, another to hold and “soften them up”, and the bathrooms in the back specifically know as a place where women were commonly taken to be sexually exploited. But as we walked through D2 now, the rooms in which horrible acts of violence had occurred had been dedicated to those who endured the violence. Photos of los desaparecidos filled the walls of D2, and notes and letters from loved ones were left in their honor.

My favorite of these memorial rooms was one where a hundred or so light fixtures hung from the ceiling, but only some had bulbs lit in them and others were empty. The lightbulbs represented each child of los desaparecidos that had been found.

I watched Fernando confidently walk through the rooms of the very building he was detained in, and something about this made me very emotional. I saw moments of him in the D2 library holding banned books and teaching the next generation the history he lived through, and in that moment nothing rang truer than “memoria, verdad, y justica”.

I happened to take one picture by chance on our way out of D2, but it spoke volumes to me after taking a closer look. Fernando is walking out of the detention center, through the broken wall, past a police officer, and into the daylight.

A memorial needs to be visually impactful to get the visitors attention.  It doesn’t need to be colorful or pretty, a half opened door or other device can draw the viewer.  It needs to be informative.  The more you can say without words, the better.  It needs to be personal.  The color action shots of the victims doing every day activities made them seem more like you and ms, more deserving of being remembered. The memorials need to be frequent to keep the memory alive.  The memorials done by their friends at local businesses dramatically add to the state sponsored ones to keep the atrocities from being forgotten.

Argentina’s turbulent history during the military dictatorship left deep scars on the nation’s collective memory. A visit to La Perla, a notorious site of torture and murder during the Dirty War in Argentina, shed light on the deep impact of the suffering there and the resilience following the human rights violations.

The body has memory

I translate this quote as the following:

“The body has memory, traces, marks that are there, that appear if called upon. Even if we do not think of them, the body reacts by bringing them forth. Memory surrounds, permeates, from the inside and outside.”

Photographs commemorating women who were killed at La Perla

This evocative quote, hung on a flag commemorating the many women whose lives were taken at La Perla, encapsulates the idea that the body itself carries the weight of traumatic memory. Even when forgotten or suppressed, it lives on in the body. The quote reflects the profound connection between memory and the physical self, highlighting the deep impact of trauma on individuals. For me, this quote evoked the salience of epigenetics. Broadly, epigenetics is the study of changes in gene expression that can occur without alterations in the underlying DNA sequence. It explains how environmental factors– such as traumatic experiences– can impact gene expression and, subsequently, influence physical and mental health outcomes. 

“Many stars no longer exist. But their light keeps reaching us.”

The notion that the body carries memory and that it reacts by bringing forth these memories aligns with the idea that trauma can leave lasting imprints on an individual’s epigenome. These epigenetic changes can occur not only in the individual who experienced the trauma directly but also in their germ cells, which are responsible for passing genetic information to future generations. The quote’s emphasis on the body’s memory and the notion that memory surrounds and permeates from the inside and outside coalesces with the idea that trauma can leave an indelible mark on future generations. Put simply, women who endure trauma can physiologically pass this experience of trauma onto their offspring.

Mary R. Harvey (2007) explores the sources and expressions of resilience among trauma survivors. While not specific to Argentina, the concepts that Harvey presents offer insight into the strength and adaptability of individuals who have faced immense adversity such as the women in La Perla. The article examines the individual characteristics, social support systems, coping mechanisms, and personal beliefs that contribute to resilience. It reveals how trauma survivors can harness their inner strength and create a sense of purpose and meaning.

Resilience as explored by Harvey offers a glimmer of hope. It demonstrates the inherent strength of people; it explains people’s capacity to heal, rebuild, and transcend the oppressive legacy of intergenerational trauma. The resilience exhibited by survivors of atrocities, including those who survived the horrors of La Perla, exemplifies the indomitable spirit of humans.

Reconciling Harvey’s article with the above quote and the experiences of those in La Perla, for me, evokes the multidimensionality of trauma and resilience. It invites us to reflect on the interplay between memory, trauma, inherited experiences, and the human capacity to overcome and thrive. As we as students work to strive for a better future, it is vital for us to acknowledge both the suffering and the resilience of survivors.

window from a cell in the D2 detention center

Stepping foot inside of the D2 Detention Center was a profound immersion into Argentina’s military dictatorship. The walls bore witness to the stories of countless individuals who suffered within the confines. It’s impossible not to feel a sense of history pressing down upon those who visit; for me this elicited emotions of sorrow, reflection, and grief.

Each space within D2 tells a story, unraveling the horror and despair experienced by those who were held captive. One space that moved me very deeply was a room in which families of those who were disappeared brought photo albums to preserve their memory as well as to write messages to their loved ones. Below is one entry in a family photo book.

Here is my best translation of this entry:

“Sometimes I would like to be a bird. I wonder what it would be like to see you from afar. Unfold my wings to the wind and cut the clouds in a passionate sky; sometimes I would like to be a bird, but not just any one, a bird of freedom.

You ask, what is a bird of freedom? It is that which is a pleasure to see, that illuminates the soul, restores life and stirs the heart. It is that which fills the stomach with butterflies and the mind with good thoughts. The bird of freedom flies by itself, proud of its fluttering, it only allows itself to be reached by the brave in spirit, by those who earn a living. Sometimes I would like to be a bird, a bird of freedom and fly close to you. Always close to you.”

Hearing the stories of the disappeared was honestly heartbreaking, but visiting the D2 detention center made them even more heart-wrenching. For me, the most impactful part of the memory site was seeing the photos of the disappeared with their family and friends and the items they held near and dear to them. This showed me the significance of Ausencias Argentina. It also ensured that the victims of the government’s terror could be seen in their everyday lives with those they loved. The memory sites have kept the names of the disappeared known to ensure that no one has forgotten the how irreversible the damage done was. This made me think back to ‘A Single Numberless Death’ because these memorials have been into place to sure that everyone is remembered and this is signified by the fact that the memorials are so personal. 

Today we went to the D2 detention center, a former police station that was used to hold disappeared people before transferring them to prison or a death camp. The explanation of the events that transpired during these gross violations of human rights during the dictatorship detailed in Nunca Mas gave me a greater understanding of what took place, but visiting the detention center made it feel more real. It was a powerful experience but a moment was particularly touching for me was seeing some of the clothes of the disappeared women displayed in the center. Clothing can tell a lot about a person’s life and personality, and is often underappreciated as a mode of self-expression. I tend to use clothes to express myself, and I feel like just by my clothes a person could learn a lot about me. In this case, it served to humanize the victims and to allow me to picture them in my mind more so than even photos alone. The use of clothing should be considered as a mode of storytelling for similar sites in the future, allowing for people to have a deeper understanding of who is impacted by human rights violations.