So here we are

28/06/1978

So, three days ago, Argentina won this year’s copa mondial in futbol against the Netherlands. 3 – 1 was the score from what I heard. I was reminded of the event mainly from the sheer amount of cars commuting to Buenos Aires from downtown Santa Rosa on Sunday afternoon while I was in town with some friends while we all collectively put off our work. Pablo and Esteban, other classmates of mine, were planning on trying to hop on a bus into the city on the same day. They invited me along for the journey but I promised mama to stay home that day. I wasn’t feeling that enthusiastic about trying to go in any case, as the idea only succeeded in stressing me out whenever it was brought up. The coup has made mother and father far more paranoid lately, and based off of what I hear at school these days I feel inclined to understand their worries. Buenos Aires seems to have lost its past warmth, rhythm and excitement and lately, to be perfectly honest, the city seems more daunting to me than ever before.

Given that I achieve the necessary grades, I sure do wonder how I’ll fare there when I move to the city for university. Even though that is fast approaching, I’ll save those thoughts for the near future…

I don’t buy this whole joyous celebration around the win, the so called “pride” everyone is feeling. I certainly have been feeling less and less pride for Argentina lately – shame more than anything else. You’ve surely been hearing of these accusations being lobbed at our “leaders” by the foreign press in the run up to the final. Of them disappearing our fellow Argentines, our women and youth and hard working citizens. Several of my classmates’ older brothers and sisters seemed to have succumbed to this fate and, while it pains me to say this, too much evidence points to the fact that these accusations are most likely founded and therefore true in order for me to brush them aside. I feel like I might have an idea as to what is happening to them all but I dare not say it out loud. The parallels, however, between some of my recent historical studies and our current situation are apparent to an almost frightening degree. Maybe, just maybe, history does repeat itself at times…

All I wish for is for us and papa to be left alone. I overheard him speaking to my mother in the kitchen last night, in a hushed but nervous and rapid manner. I rarely hear him speak that way, but in light of what seems to have happened at his estancia I can only begin to understand. It appears some police officers stopped by, unannounced, and made a scene – asked the owners and workers (including father) many serious questions, broke some furniture and vases in the main house and even seriously injured a new worker who is only in his twenties and under my father’s guidance on their way out. An officer nearly broke his leg when he smacked him with a truncheon, claiming he was looking at him with “mocking” eyes.

I’m beginning to think that I might hide or burn some of these notes I am writing after I’ve read them out to you. You can never be too safe in Argentina these days, you know. I truly am grateful that I do have some sort of platform to let all these thoughts out. Otherwise, I feel that I would implode…

 

1 thought on “So here we are

  1. ssvolk says:

    Hi, Nacho. I feel equally grim in Buenos Aires and only half-heartedly went out drinking with some pibes to “celebrate” the Copa victory. I think the part that galled me the most was having to watch as Videla come down to fondle the trophy. Me da asco! Are you still thinking of coming to Buenos Aires? What will you study? How will you get by? Tell me what’s happening in Santa Rosa.

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