was born in Guatemala 1945. When she was 9 years old, her family was exiled from Guatelamla and settled in Argentina.
Carmen is a human rights activist and has three children. Her sister had disappeared in Argentina 1976, and also her mother
who had returned to Guatelmala, disappeared at the hands of the military.
Dear Alicia
Buenos Aires, July 22, 1987
Let me introduce myself through this letter. I’m the daughter of Maximina Valdez, disappeared in Guatemala City on September 9, 1982, under the government of Efrain Rios Montt. My sister, Norma Leticia Batshe Valdez, disappeared in the Republic of Argentina on December 15, 1976, under the government of General Jorge Rafael Videla, I live in Argentina because my mother found asylum at the Argentina Embassy in 1954. That is why I write to you from this country where I have my home.
My mother, my father, my sister and I– all Guatemalans. I was three years older than my sister. We taveled with my mother, who came to an exile to Argentina. At that time, we had just lost the wonderful democracies of Arevalo and Arbenz, two great presidents of Guatemala. My mother was active in politics and, when the gobernment felt, we had to leave the country. Here in Argentina, Peron had decided to bring the families along with the exiled. My sister and I came with my mother. My father came later.
We started to fight to make our home in this land. My mother and suffered a lot; we wouldn’t adapt. But my father and sister felt very comfortable here–my sister considered herself an Argentine to the point of fighting against the military dictatorship and being disappeared in 1976.
In 1966, when we applied to become permanent residents, something shameful happened. There was a discussion that made us feel bad. We, the girls, were considered to be under political asylum; it was absurd that two children who had come at the ages of six and nine could be under political asylum. Well, that was our case. We didn’t think that it was bad to be under asylum. but we believed that the immigration authorities were acting in an extremely wrong way.
After our arrival in Argentina. we were kept in the Hotel for Immigrants, where they used to house all new immigrants. Each time we entered or left the hotel we had to go through a check point. Afterwards, each family found their own place. The Eva Peron Fundation helped us a lot with food, beds, mattresses. But the absurd thing was that many exiled men were detained in the Villa Devoto prison. My mother, along with the people from the Liga Lucha por los Derechos del Hombre (Fight for the Rights of Humankind), the only organization that helped the political prisoners, used to visit the detainees. My mother visited them for more than a year until they were released. They were given ID’s, they had to check in with the authorities every month, and renew their ID’s every six months.
This history is to show you how the “yankees” can control a constitutional government, and never leave it free to do its will. It is a hard thing, that of the people who want to achieve real freedon of thought, speech and action. I say goodbye now, Carmen.
Published in the book “You Can’t Drown The Fire” by Alicia Partnoy
Translated by Alicia Partnoy.