The Pan American Games and the memory of those absent.jpgwidth200height200ResizeModeCrop

The Pan American Games and the memory of those absent… (I)




Santiago de Chile.- IN SEPTEMBER Last year marked the 50th anniversary of the military coup in this country that overthrew the government of Salvador Allende and popular unity, established the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet and forever changed the lives of Chileans.

The story is full of blood and suffering, with murders, torture, disappearances, betrayal, cynicism, lots of cynicism.

In Chilean society, these events are tattooed in an indescribable way, either because of the pain that comes from the absences and the scars on the skin and the heart, or because of the fear of repetition, or because of the desire or convenience to forget them and even rewriting what happened.

For those who visit this country, it is impossible to ignore this memory, especially when walking every day in front of La Moneda or crossing the vast areas of the National Stadium of Chile.

Although sports stories weigh a lot, especially the unforgettable 1962 FIFA World Cup and several victories for La Roja de América, the thoughts do not stop depicting a temple, a huge monument that reminds us how far human evil, resentment and extremism reach can.

Now that its exterior is painted all white, it exudes a conscious message of peace, cleanliness, neatness and naivety. This is what the Chileans wanted to do, to continue to heal the horrors experienced there since September 11, 1973, when thousands of people were rounded up because they were, or appeared to be, communists, because they read Marx, Che or Fidel Castro and because they believed in Allende and obviously we hate soldiers trained in Nazi ideology.

The epicenter of the XIX. Pan American Games is this huge block that protects the large stadium in a privileged location. 50 years ago the area was very different, because where several new facilities are being built today (sports centers, Hochey and tennis courts, etc…), soccer fields separated by clay paths predominate…

Yes, of course there were what are now called memorial sites, because there the trace of the blow was recorded forever… There remain the changing rooms, the hatches, the section of untouchable stands, the velodrome with its south shell and the tunnel as well Access from Pedro de Valdivia Avenue, where trucks and buses arrived carrying prisoners, whether alive, injured or dead.

These and other sites built to commemorate the 7,000 to 20,000 prisoners are part of the varied atmosphere and aesthetic of these Games… And that’s how it should be. Where joy, hope and the powerful social message of sport prevail today, yesterday there was even a cemetery functioning.

There are stories of those who saw corpses piled to one side at one of the entrances to the stand, of those who heard the painful groans in the face of gunfire and torture, of those who lived the experience of a false execution to such an extent that they even over could talk about what they didn’t know. …From those who went to the marquee building several times to be questioned, and worse, from those who visited the Conch Velodrome one or more times, where the questions were much less civilized.

Today, during the Pan American Games, visiting the National Stadium ultimately offers a different perspective… competitions, sale of souvenirs and food, interaction areas for children and adults, art fair, television sets, huge and modern facilities, advertising, music. ..

Entire families, athletes, journalists, fans, visitors walk across the squares… They are the majority. Carabineros de Chile has a tent displaying its symbols. Officials in formal wear pose for photos. Two gorgeous ladies appear to be on guard duty, but they don’t carry guns, they don’t look threatening, they don’t kick each other’s asses. They barely smile and say hello. Somewhere several soldiers are riding slender horses. People stroke their manes. They don’t attack.

There are other stops along the way… There are memorial sites and a huge mural partly created by Mon Laferté and Alejandro “Mono” González. It runs along walls to the south, north, east and west and originates in an old water tank. It tells of moments of pain, hopelessness, search, loss… It’s about women, children and parents. We go there too these days…

Near the stadium’s main entrance on Grecia Avenue, where relatives gathered to see their prisoners, there is a white tent displaying photos of the Chilean Holocaust and a sculpture called Los espejuelos de Allende. It reminds us of his boring life in La Moneda. Guided tours of the memorials take place four times a day.

The most shocking message of all can be read there and in several places: “A city without memory is a city without a future.” This idea is a necessary warning, which is why it was firmly established that it could not be left out of the opening ceremony, even if it was veiled. ..

The fire penetrated the area through hatch eight, reaching the grass between the benches and steps of the untouchable box. At some point when the phrase became enlightened, Chile and all the peoples of the Americas became enlightened. The memory was illuminated.