Interests:International Development, ICTs in Development, Poverty Reduction, Politics, Languages... Expertise:Are any of us experts in anything? I don't think so..... Occupation:Postgraduate student
Mission Impossible Possible... Getting a residence visa in Argentina (don't even ask me about the one for Brazil!)
I can't believe, I finally have the resident visa for Argentina. It has been a very VERY difficult process that really was starting to make me go insane. Having not lived in Canada for five prior years to coming here, I was supposed to be exempt from a criminal record check from there. Instead, I had the Japanese one done. However, after many visits and hard times at immigration, I was forced to provide those animals with the document which took over 7 months to get from Canada. What a mess! The RCMP really needs to find out why it is one of the world's longest criminal check. I can get the same document for Argentina in 8 hours and from Japan within a month. In any case, after almost a year crossing borders in Uruguay to maintain legal status, I now can celebrate my residence. So I am finally leaving the country for a while knowing that I can come back and putting "most" of the paperwork behind me. I'll be in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil for the month of February celebrating carnival and studying Portuguese... Please don't cry for me Argentina, because you certainly made me cry for you during the visa process!
Last week I was separated from my dear beloved. It was on Thursday night, we were laying in bed together, sipping wine, chatting, watching some youtube videos and enjoying dinner. I should have known that he is sensitive and I must be careful about what I choose to eat and drink around him. As I got up from the bed, my wine slipped from my hand and splashed on his white outfit. I gasped in shocked and ran to him. He wouldn't respond, then he just completely shut down. I begged him to acknowledge me but he refused as I frantically pat dried the drops of wine that left stain marks on the white. I took him out on the balcony to cool him down and let the wind dry the dampness that I had caused. Finally, an hour later, I approached him again and this time he replied to my touch. I heard his beautiful tone that sent a shiver through my body. However, suddenly it was like he was speaking a whole new language to me. Like I want "J" but he replied "K". Everything seemed so messed up. I let him be for the night and decided to deal with him the next morning.
The next morning I woke up early with a plan. I took him out and walked until we reached the centre. I knew I could get him help here, it was really the last resort. The centre was full of many people in the same situation. I couldn't help comparing him to others around. Finally, I made it up to the second floor and spoke with Constancia, an expert in these situations. She recommended taking him for evaluation and seeing what they could do for him. Was it really that serious, I thought? I left him there, as he continued to sputter out some strange language code I had never heard before. I don't know who had the greatest shock, him or me. I waited for the entire week-end and finally on Monday I heard from them. They gave me an estimate of his treatment and told me they thought they could have him fully recovered by Tuesday. I agreed and even was able to visit him for a short time. He still looked messed up but they assured me he would be like new within 24 hours.
This morning I woke up from a telephone call from Constancia, the same woman who took on our case. She told me he was completely recovered and I could come and pick him up. I was shocked at the speed. I went back to the centre, so excited to see him. Typical in Argentina, Constancia asked me to pay for the treatment before I could take him home. I went downstairs, paid the bill in full, and when I returned to the 2nd floor, there he was, beside Constancia, looking better than ever. After almost five nights of being apart, I wanted to turn him on right there in the centre, and I sure did. He was incredible, fully responsive to my touch and fully functional in all ways of speaking if you get my drift I took him back on foot so we could enjoy the windy morning along our usual street, Arenales, unable to wait to get him home and turn him on again.
Mac, I love you! I am going to be so careful from now on. Please never scare me like that again!
Have I given up on Xanga blog life? Who actually reads this now? Anybody? I started my blog out for myself and I think I must be the only one that has any interest in reading it. A blog is like a public diary but in the end we are always writing our blog for ourselves. Individualism, self-expression, memories... it all comes down to getting down ideas and happenings in a written form that will show us that we are indeed living. I guess my life was much more exciting when I was travelling around the world on a ship with loads of photos and stories. I am an uncle now... my nephew Luciano, although my sister prefers to call him Aiden, was recently born and seems to be a big arrival in the Hyma family. I hope that he can see the world and do things that I haven't been able to do until now. Well if he lives an average life in some rural place in Canada without an idea of what is happening outside it is okay too... Don't worry Luchie, a cada p奫aro le gusta su nido.
Now I am just immersed in my masters living a pretty average life in Buenos Aires. I don't know what else to write about other than papers and daily life. However today I want to write about one of the most important things I have found in Buenos Aires since I arrived. When you end up all over the place, friends become the most prized possession you value. Here in Buenos Aires, I am so lucky to have found the one and only, Rashi. Do you ever feel like you are in an environment where you can't seem to show who you are or you don't have the opportunity to really reach your potential? Sounds awfully cheesy but it happens at times and if you can find someone to understand you and appreciate you as you are, you must consider yourself lucky to have avoided a complete oblivion of self-depreciation. Rashi is my saviour of Buenos Aires. Yes, I have had a few saviours in certain prior situations... (Hello Kana on Peaceboat, Yuki in Amami, Georgie in Kagoshima...) and I know how lucky I am to have met this remarkable woman here. My closest friend and my number one confidante, there are few pleasures I look forward to as much as meeting Rashi for a glass of wine and a chat about any topic that comes up. In many ways we both seemed to have certain expectations of how our lives would pan out in Buenos Aires but however it develops, we know we have each other to put things in perspective and I am absolutely certain that in the end, we will be remembering these days together with absolute fondness when we move on to the next stages in life. When I am with Rashi, I am able to brush of identity issues of nationality and regional views and move right into the things that really matter. A Dutch Indian born in Oman with an affinity for Latin America, she knows far more about globalisation than any text can provide. With Rashi I can simply leave the unsaid to remain unsaid and she will without a doubt already know what I meant. Surrounded by others that try to create a uniformity of a type that seems appropriate for the situation, I always know I can count on Rashi to truly know what's going on in my head. How lucky I am to end up in Argentina with a comrade like her!
Ohhh, I don't really have too much to tell! Yoonho left a few weeks ago and I have been thrown once again into the end of the semester madness.
But I did go on a wonderful trip to the north of Argentina to enjoy some hot springs, warm weather and gorgeous scenery. Most impressive was the trip to a city called Salta. What a jewel surrounded by desert and hills with it's colonial architecture...
I am sharing a video in the tram which was one of the most memorable events...
Primero mataremos a todos los subversivos, luego mataremos a sus colaboradores, despu廥... a sus simpatizantes, enseguida... a aquellos que permanecen indiferentes y finalmente mataremos a los t璥idos. -General Ib廨ico Saint-Jean, gobernador de Buenos Aires, mayo de 1976
First we will kill all the subversives; then we will kill their collaborators; thenheir sympathizers. Thenhose who remain indifferent; and finally we will kill the timid. -General Iberico Saint-Jean, governor ofBuenos Aires, May 1976
In 1976, the ousting of Juan Peron's widow, Isabel Mart璯ez de Per鏮, gave way to the military dictatorship under Jorge Rafael Videla. From this time until 1983, the "Dirty War" of Argentina claimed the lives of around 30,000 people. Death squads worked the streets grabbing people the in middle of their daily lives, dragging them to dark underground torture centres where victims were brutally tortured and usually killed in an attempt to extract any information relating to left-wing involvement or connections. Men, women, pregnant women and children were all subjected to this treatment on the basis of suspicion. This "Dirty War" could also have become known as the silent war as the country, like Chile under Pinochet and Uruguay under Bordaberry, people were systematically "disappeared" from the streets and never heard from again. Although the US government had knowledge of this widespread genocide in the region, it supported the standing dictatorships in effort to supress left-wing movements which were scene as communist threats to democracy and regional stability. However, the vast majority of the world had little or no knowledge of the gruesome events happening and people within Argentina were silenced in this "National Re-organisation Process".
The mothers of disappeared citizens began to mobilise in an effort to find their children. Despite the widespread terror across the country of acting against the dictatorship, the mothers marched together to the Plaza de Mayo (the centre of Buenos Aires where the heart of the government and most institutions of Argentina are found) and demanded to know the whereabouts of their missing children. They publically challenged the government when no others would begging any sort of international press to inform the world about what was happening in Argentina.
Here is a video of an even in the seventies when the mothers confronted the international press in the plaza. I have translated if underneath.
They don't tell us if they are alive or dead. Why don't they tell us? We're just looking for that. Why don't they answer? Just that and we'll go away.
...because of what the government is saying, it's not what it's saying, lies, it's lying, it's lying. It has been like this for two years...
My daugther was five months pregnant when they took her. My grandson should have been born in August of last year. I still haven't been able to find out anything about him.
We only want to know where are our children, alive or dead. What anguish because we don't even know if they are sick, if they are cold, if they are hungry. We don't know anything and you can see our desperation, sir, because we don't know who to turn to... Consulate, consulates, embassies, ministries, churches, all of them have closed us out, everywhere has closed the doors on us. Because of this we beg you, we BEG you, you are our last hope, please help us, help us please, you are our last hope...
The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo continue marching in the plaza every Thursday at 3:30, even almost 25 years after the end of the dictatorship. It's moving to spend a Thursday afternoon at the plaza watching the mothers, now quite old but just as strong, walking around with photos of their children around their chests. I would love to share some images and videos of the movement today but somehow they also mysteriously "disappeared"...
I took him back on foot so we could enjoy the windy morning along our usual street, Arenales, unable to wait to get him home and turn him on again. 
