“Untitled”
by Angelica Quicksey
Claremont McKenna College
Buenos Aires natural rhythm is interrupted by the death of Mariano Ferreyre, a 23 year old student at the University of Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires best expresses itself in sound. In my mind, the melodic refrains of Buenos Aires cultural export, the tango, the jarring protest songs of the Plaza de Mayo – where “Las Madres” marched for decades recalling children kidnapped during the dictatorship – and the honks and crashes that accompany the city’s often violent traffic form a distinct audio profile of the city. That is why the events of this past October are particularly well-characterized by the sounds that accompanied them, both their origins and their effects.
The standard hum of Buenos Aires had remained unchanged until the second week of the month when disparate labor and student protests began to pick up around the city. As the protests grew, the hum became a rumble. Then, one mild Wednesday afternoon, that rumble was punctuated by gun shots. The shots, fired during a strike of the city’s transportation unions, elicited first a growing murmur then a roar which manifested itself in protestors filling the streets with shouts, songs, chants, hundreds of orchestrated footsteps and drum beats.
As an American student studying in Buenos Aires for the semester, these distinct noises generated interest, excitement, exhilaration, but also tension and a tinge of fear. I had walked by a protest seemingly every day the past five months and while exciting at first, they soon became a part of the ordinary rhythm of the city. When my class was canceled due to a student strike at the University of Buenos Aires (UBA) in September, I rejoiced. Then, when the strike continued week after week, and my course credit came into question, I simply became irritated.
But the movements that began in October were different; the days following the 20th of the month were particularly hectic and difficult. That Wednesday morning, recently-fired, subcontracted railway employees tried to block one of Argentina’s train lines. A group of armed, rival workers from the Train Transport Union arrived at the scene of the protest and soon opened fire on the other group. The attack injured three workers, and killed Mariano Ferreyre, a 23 year old UBA student.
That afternoon, I was making my way to class in another part of Buenos Aires, oblivious to the morning’s events at the railway and the swift changes already being wrought in the city. Walking to the subway, I passed a group of protesters carrying signs bearing Mariano’s name but brushed them off as yet another group of malcontents. When I arrived to find the subway closed, I simply walked to the next line determined to attend my first UBA class in a month and a half. Finding that line closed as well, I continued walking and arrived just in time for the lecture to begin.
It was the other American girl in my class who informed me of that day’s events. She whispered the news at a break in the lecture like harmless gossip, saying they would probably cancel class again, as if it were a snow day. Halfway through class a group of students interrupted, handing out fliers to attend a march the following day to support Mariano’s friends and family and to call for justice. When class ended, I walked home in silence.
The following day, I attempted to visit the bank on the corner of Corrientes and Callao before the planned protest began. However, as I reached the Citibank doors, already closed and shuttered in preparation, the first column of protesters advanced down Callao toward the intersection. At their head marched a group of young men, heads swathed in bandanas and scarves which hid their faces from view.
More masked protesters began to arrive, along with bare-faced representatives from Argentina’s multitude of worker’s organizations. I had not planned on staying, but as the crowd grew, my desire to leave diminished.
After about an hour, the crowd had grown beyond the intersection, spilling for blocks along each street. Chants (Mariano Ferreyre Presente!), protest songs, and the beating of drums rose from the crowd. Fireworks, that sounded like gunshots and made me jump every time they went off, punctuated the mounting noise.
Though I remained at the intersection, the surging crowd had pushed the front of the march ahead a few blocks. I decided to move forward, out of the mass that had packed the intersection. As I walked, I passed the Movimiento Proyecto Sur (MPS), the Convergencia de Izquierda (CI), the Partido Obrero (PO), the PTS, the TPR, and the dozens of other parties and organizations that came to show their banners and their support. Continuing past each group, I soon reached the front of the demonstration.
There I found Mariano’s friends and family gathered, weeping for their lost son, brother, friend, classmate. Here, at the front of the movement, a woman wept into the shoulder of a young man who also had tears in his eyes. Their cries and their tears resonated far more than the clamor created by the crowd behind them and the loud calls for justice seemed weak before their quieter expressions of grief.
When the gathering finally began its mile-long walk to the Plaza de Mayo, I did not accompany them. Instead I stayed behind and listened to them go.
Later, when the rhythm of Buenos Aires had returned to normal, I silently traveled to the Plaza de Mayo to leave a flower for Mariano. I did not know him, but his death interrupted the comfortable rhythm of my own life. This young man, a classmate, died for a cause he believed in and made me consider: my mortality, my ambitions, my causes, my friends, family, fellow students. Moreover, the mobilization of the city in the wake of his death showed me how connected a population can be, as thousands turned out to call for justice, or simply remember a fallen friend.
Mariano’s face still appears on posters throughout the city, especially in the buildings of the University of Buenos Aires (UBA) where he was a student. Mariano Presente! is now the rallying call of seemingly every UBA student group. Yet, as the sounds of protests fade, people return to work, to class, to the normal pace of their lives.
Yes, Buenos Aires’ remarkable rhythm. Its people continue to gather in the Plaza de Mayo, in Congreso, on Corrientes to demonstrate, to celebrate, to mourn and remember. Along with the music of the tango, the moving growl of the subway, and the Italian lilt of Argentine Spanish, the sounds of these gatherings will resonate in my memory of this place long after I leave.
RateYourStudyAbroad.com is an independent website for students to research and review study abroad programs, with over 4,000 programs and reviews added by thousands of students. It was founded by two study abroad students in 2008.
Rudy Maxa and Allan Comport judged the RateYourStudyAbroad.com Fall 2010 Travel Writing & Photography Contest. Rudy Maxa is the host of PBS‘s RudyMaxa’s World, a former Washington Post reporter and the former host of NPR‘s The Savvy Traveler. Allan Comport is a professor of art at the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA).
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