Madres de la Plaza de Mayo

Every Thursday, at 3:30 p.m. on the dot, a group of grandmotherly women, wrapped in white head scarves, take to the Plaza de Mayo in front of the Casa Rosada (the Argentine equivalent of the White House) to demonstrate as they have for over three decades now.  During the Dirty War in Argentina, 1976-1983, thousands of people disappeared.  It is a misnomer, it wasn't a war so much as a highly corrupt and violent series of military dictators that ruled with an iron fist and a quick hand to jail people.  The issue is, once they were jailed, they were rarely heard from again.  To this day there is little to no evidence of where they went, what happened to them, or sadly even, where their remains are.  Since April 30th, 1977, the mothers of the disappeared have gathered in the plaza to beg for information.

We gathered with them last week, and watched their solemn and steady procession.  We heard as names of some of the disappeared were announced for one and all to listen.  It was powerful, and shaking to the core.

After the procession, I had the opportunity to talk with some of the mothers.  I met one of the original fourteen.  She has been coming to the Plaza every Thursday since that first day, always with photos of her daughter and son-in-law, and a blank sheet for the grandchild she will never know.  Her daughter gave birth in a concentration camp, but she has found no further record of the child, or of the parents.  To see first hand the emotion in this mother's eyes was so moving and profound.  Often people throw around statistics of this many casualties in a war, or that many disappeared.  Statistics don't show you the personal horror that these women face and have faced for thirty-three years.  I admire their strength and their determination to return rain or shine and let their message ring true.  True love never fails.