Argentina is one of my favorite countries to visit. In addition to the fact that their men are drop dead gorgeous (along with the Danish men) – Argentine audiences are wonderful. I don’t think that I have ever performed for a more enthusiastic and gracious group of people. The standing ovations for our performances went on forever. Buenos Aires looked like a beautiful old city that was plucked out of Europe and set down in a different setting. The monuments and buildings were exquisite. During our first visit to Argentina (post Falklands war), their economy was in a tailspin. The people were desperate to make ends meet and as a result – they were selling many of their treasures at the city’s flea market. Items that you would normally see in one of the finer antique shops were spread out everywhere – on makeshift tables and on the ground. All of it being sold for practically nothing. I almost bought a silver Russian samovar (I have never seen so many samovars in one place) until I realized the impracticality of the purchase. One – I’d have to carry around on tour for the next three weeks because it definitely would NOT fit into my suitcase (imagine trying to take that thing through Customs and Immigration in several countries) and Two – I’d didn’t even know how to use the dumb thing.
Argentina was changed on our second visit. The military dictatorship had been defeated. There was an elected president. The population seemed hopeful. Most noticeably, there was a powerful visual statement in Buenos Aires – the Mothers of the Plaza (English translation). These women were demanding to know the fates of their missing children who vanished during the previous military government’s reign. For those of you not up on your world history – during the military dictatorship – hundreds of people were detained, tortured, killed and displaced. The mothers brought a national shame to the forefront. The entire population was talking about what had happened. They could finally speak without fear of reprisal.
I was lucky to meet a wonderful man who was also in the arts and who brought me into the public discussions. He answered many of my naïve questions with his own questions. The first thing that I asked him was “How could this have happened?” He looked at me and said, “In your country, if you see a policeman arresting someone and that person is yelling for help, who do you assume is right? The policeman or the man he is arresting?” “The police,” I replied. “Same here,” he said. “But so many people,” I said, “How can that happen?” “What do you know of the student at your university who publishes a little newspaper that criticizes the government? What do you know of the shopkeeper of a second hand bookstore who has an interest in politics? What do you know of the undiscovered writer? Nothing! They are not part of the masses; they are not part of mainstream society. Their lives are outside of most people’s day-to-day existence. If one of these people disappeared – would you know it? People weren’t taken away en masse. They were taken away one at a time and quietly. Few of us were aware of the scope of the government’s operation – until it was too late.” We passed a hotel and he stopped me. “Look at this hotel,” he said pointing. “During the disappearances this hotel continued to run. Guests came and left. No one knew that the top floors were being used as a torture chamber.” He swept his arms around to encompass our surroundings. “There was no central holding pen. The detention centers were hidden throughout the entire city. You would not have known – just as we did not know.”
It was a sad and honest commentary but one that opened my eyes. Yes – I think he was right. It can happen in any society especially in a society such as ours where we assume that government is right and we do not hold it accountable for every move that it makes. For those of you who doubt our North American society capable of anything so brutal and primitive – I would suggest you familiarize yourself with Stanley Milgram’s societal experiments. You might get tired of the endless press exposes of government incompetence, the endless protests of popular legislation and the endless bickering among our politicians but I find them extremely comforting. As long as we uphold the right of the citizen to speak out, whether we agree with their views or not – I for one feel safer.