Nora:

This is a picture of my mother, with me when I was a just a baby.

This is a picture of my father. I like this picture because his shirt, his moustache, are typical of those times. I am fond of this picture, I like the expression on his face. For me, this place is very symbolic because here's my mother, my father.

This is me at a Scratch, this is the HIJOS flag. I like it this way. Besides, here they're always with me, at least on photo…

My father made these ashtrays when there wasn't any money. So, he would make them and sell them. Some bits are missing, but I like it very much because he made them to make ends meet.

This bed here, is my father's, was my father's bed. Now, it's mine. This is the room where my Mom slept, where she studied... It's really touching.

Here I’ve something I like very much, Because it was my mother's when she was a little girl. See? It's is toy. I played with it too. It's a windmill carrousel. It must be around 30 years old. And... it still works, though stiffly because it's old.

TITLE

Youngster from disappeared parents:

My father was kidnapped in Moreno, Buenos Aires in '76.

The last thing we heard is that He was in a concentration camp, but we don't know which one. It could be El Banco or El Vesubio.

Youngster from disappeared parents:

And my mother was taken away 6 months later with my 10-month old sister.

They were seen in the ESMA and my sister was recovered shortly after.

Youngster from disappeared parents:

My father, Francisco Tiseira, is missing. He was part of the  Montoneros.

At the house where he was kidnapped, in the north of Buenos Aires, another 6 to 8 persons were kidnapped.

Nora:

Crowd yelling:

Nora:

I'm Nora Montarcé. I'm 23. On August 31st, 1977, at 11 a.m., my father was taken away from his work by the police, and at 4 o'clock,

they took away my mother, before my eyes, from home.

Sing out louder... Sing out louder... Cry it out "Son of a bitch military"...

In Argentina ther are thousands of us in the same situation: children of missing parents.

Thousands. I don't know the exact number.

I was queuing up with my entrance papers for school, in '96 …and a boy came up to me and said:  “I'm from HIJOS …the children of the missing, we are giving a lecture”.

He gave me a flyer that I still keep. I looked at him and said:

“I'm also the daughter of missing parents”. We were amazed … and he said “Come, meet the others”.

And I said “yes, this is what I wanted”. As if Fate said to me:

“Nora, you wanted this? Well, here it is!”. There I became an activist.

From then on I said “Done! This is what I needed, what I wanted”.

Today they are all free. We want them to see that people repudiate them.

We want the people to know who lives here. We want them to know who lives nearby, so that the baker stops selling him bread.

That his neighbourhood becomes his jail.

Then his province, his country.

Sebastian, Nora’s boy friend:

Nora:

Nora’s Grandmother:

People must know him and his past. Today, they see an innocent old man

walking with his dog. But after the Scratch they'll know the truth:

That this gentle old man tortured, raped, women, and killed people, our parents. The Scratch will be striking!

The only thing they regret, is not having killed us. They never dreamt this would happen. It's the only thing they regret.

Nora took after both. She's got a smile, an expression just like Quique.

Her hair is like her father's. And her mother?... She's my daughter.

My daughter, identical to her father even in her sweat...

That was her... I can't...

They took Quique at 11 a.m. on August 31st, from León Suarez, the Mitre train.

And they went for Iris to her house, at 4 or 4:30. When we got there, a lady, the owner was expecting us.

Today, I still can't remember what she said, because I couldn't think... I couldn't take it. I know she talked and talked. What I heard was that Quique had beaten Iris and that he was in jail, but I didn't know why.

I was so mixed up that I couldn't understand the lady. And when we got there, I saw the truth: they just left the baby. and the house was... plundered.

Yes, plundered is the word.

Question:

Nora:

Question:

Nora:

How do you image them?

It's all so odd. When you grow into adolescence, like any teenager, you want to learn about your story, you want to know who you are.

I started to idealize them, specially my father. I felt my mother as just a normal woman, but I saw my father... like a sort of Che Guevara...

And this was hard because I felt it wasn't healthy. But, finally, I managed to make him human.

Today, I feel very proud of them.

Do you ever miss them?

Miss them... At times, maybe yes...

The thing is, that I'll always say that I'm truly grateful towards them:

the fact is I had a home, a family, a mother, and a father, right?

And I had the truth! And, compared to the stories of other kids...

My mother and father are disappeared...

You need your parents, a whole generation is missing.

Yes I missed them. In everyday things. I'd love to say for example:

“Let's go to a pop concert!"

But I know they are old, right?

When I was little I used to wonder why other kids had young parents and mine were old.

Nora:

Nora:

Question:

Nora:

Question:

Nora:

Nora:

Here, take this flyer. We're from HIJOS and we'll Scratch a general, a murderer from the coup, who tortured and killed people.

He lives not far from here. There'll be a bus ready, if you want to come...

Before going to the house, we walk the district, handing out flyers to the neighbours for people to know who lives next door.

We don’t think that Justice will come from the government. So we go and… scratch this bloke. We go to his house and tell people:

"Look, you live next door to a genocidal neighbour"

It's almost time to go to the general’s house for the scratch.

Are you nervous?

Yes, very!

Why?

There was a lot of groundwork, we worked hard, and obviously because I want things to come out the best as possible.

HIJOS is part of my life. At the time, when I began, it helped me to get my story back. I used to feel odd... It's not easy being a child of missing parents. I needed a peer, somebody able to know what I was talking about. I could tell my story to a friend, but I also needed to talk with kids who had lived the same experience.

Every year we have a national meeting. This year, it's in Mendoza.

All the regional groups get together in a different province. Last year, it was in Córdoba. The meeting, is to define the policy for the year, to discuss regional matters and to be in contact. We form commissions and we discuss a certain proposal.

I don't think the military thought this would ever happen, right?

Now they've got a pimple in the ass, see? Now, we are the ones fighting, and revealing all they wanted to hide, with the Scratches, and all the rest. But I don't think it really settles scores...

It would be if we could send them to jail, That would be great...!

Crowd yelling:

Nora:

Nora’s Grandfather:

Question:

Nora’s Grandfather:

Question:

Nora’s Grandfather:

Question:

Nora’s Grandfather:

Question:

Nora’s Grandfather:

This afternoon you can’t run away. The scratch is coming… It’s about to begin… the scratch of General Juan Pablo Saa...!

General Saa was in charge of tortures, of the kidnappings. He was the Police Under Chief, the life or death of a certain person, depended on him.

Oh! It's OK girl. Calm down...

Do you think about her?

My daughter? Yes, sure, always... All the time...

In what sense?

I remember her as if she were still alive.

For me, she hasn't gone yet, That's the problem. For me.

Do you ever think of the military who took her away?

Many, many times. When I see Videla on TV. I don't like him, no sir.

When I see him on TV, I think on killing him. But I would bring problems to my family.

But, deep down, you'd like to?

Yes, of course, you can bet on that!

But I haven't planned it yet. I'm coldblooded, I can slash a person's throat.

Blood doesn't shock me. I despise him that much… I analyze myself alone. Me, I'm unpredictable. I'll do it anytime. I've got the guts, I just didn’t have the opportunity yet.

Crowd yelling:

Nora:

Crowd yelling:

Nora:

Question:

Nora:

Q:

Nora:

Son of a bitch, we've come here to scratch you. Murderer! Murderer!

2 months ago we found out that another murderer walks around here, because he knows that although his international capture is requested for tortures, kidnapping and violations of Human Rights since 1976, he would be safe in this neighbourhoood.

Because until today, only a few, knew his bloody and evil past.

We believe in a social punishment. If they can't be convicted by law, that his neighbourhood be his jail. That where he lives, be his jail.

We came here and scratched him. Now, the people know who he is, who lives here, because we handed flyers all week and painted walls.

So, the neighbors know who he is. The real scratch begins now!

We're helpers. We came to support them.

We can see that the neighbours are all with us!

I'm a activist in HIJOS, I go to a scratch or a meeting, and, inside I feel my parents must be really happy that I'm in all this.

I guess they’re proud of their daughter.

Do you speak with them?

Yes...

What about?

I spoke to them just a while ago... I asked them for strength to look after them... Things are different now...  My grandparents used to take care of me.

Now I'm a grown up and must take care of them.

I asked my parents to give me strength to do so.

But it's like… ...instead of asking God... It's private... Too private.