"To Teche, my mother, because she taught me to think." " Hello, how are you?" " How're you doing?" " Fine." " What can I do for you?" "Let's see..." "I need..." " Oh!" "This is what I sent you here." " ...to find two ships." "Yes?" "One is... the Demerara..." " The one my old man sailed in." " Yes." "With his sisters and my grandma." "The other is the Lutetia... that brought my father's parents with my Mum." " All of them Polish nationals." " Yes indeed." "These ledgers have the records of steamship arrivals." "Let's find the Lutetia." "The SS Lutetia entered port... on 9th October, 1923." "Here it is, 1923, October." "Orders from the 12th to the 19th." " OK." " Let's get it down." "Here we are." "Let's make some room." "Thanks." "Now we'll look for entry 19." "This is No.14." "Entry 15." "According to your information, what port did they sail from?" " From Cherbourg, or from Bordeaux." " Bordeaux, Belgium." "Who's María?" "María Korogodzki?" " Mani." "Must be grandma." " grandma?" " She was one on arrival?" " No, that's Matilde." " Matilde?" " Yes." " Sorry." "I said María, but it's Manía." " Manía." "Yes." "My aunt Matilde." "OK." "Grandfather Abraham, Grandmother Sara and Sophie." " Very well." " Those are my aunts... my mum's mother and father." "Korogodzki, Sara... three..." "Manía, ten months old only." "According to your data." "Look here, here's all your family." " Great!" " Abraham... your grandfather." " Abraham, my grandfather, yes." " Or great-grandfather?" " Grandfather." "Abraham Korogodzki." " Abraham, Sara..." " Grandma." " Who were 28, weren't they?" "You'll tell me later." "Szegenia." " Sophie." "Aunt Sophie." " Who was three." " And Manía..." "What's the translation?" " Matilde." "Matilde in Spanish." "Right, here are all four." " My mum was still in my grandma's belly." " Really!" " Born in the Argentine Republic?" " Yes." "My mum was." " Good for her!" " Yes." "Conceived between the port and..." " So she says." " Let's see what Abraham did." "Abraham, male, 28, married to Sarah, right?" " And he was a typesetter." " Typesetter!" "It says here his trade was.." "And Sarah had no trade." "Housewife, surely." " Yes." " They could read and write." " Polish nationality, Jewish." "Right?" " Yes, absolutely." "Born within Poland's national borders." "And all from Warsaw, except Abraham... who was from "Cer no byl"..." " From Chernobyl." " From Chernobyl?" " Chernobyl." "Yes, Chernobyl province." " Isn't that Russia though?" "It is." "Grandfather was born in Russia went to Warsaw." "Met my grandma there." "That's remarkable." "At that time, this was then part of Poland, not Russia." "Borders in those days changed a lot but it was Chernobyl." " It was 1923, of course." " Chernobyl, indeed." "Amazing!" "FORGING A NATION" "July, August..." "August 1927." "This is the ledger." "Sorry for the mistake." "It happens." "No." "I can't find my grandparents." "My father's parents." "You'll find them." "Let's see..." "First the steamship, the entry... 1927, August..." "These ledgers are quite worn out." "What were their names?" "Jacob, Lotti, Charlotta." "Was there a Rebeka?" " Rebeka." " Rebeka... married, female, 40." "Housewife, could read and write..." " Born in..." " Poland." "Poland, right." "Here." "And with her came..." " Aunt Lotti..." " Twelve..." " Aunt..." " Carlota, nine." " Lotti." " Judah, six." "That's my dad." "My old man." " That's right." "See here..." " This is my dad." "Your dad?" "Great!" "Good for you!" "And who's Sival Chana?" "19 years old." " That's..." " Your mother's sister?" "No, these are all Blausteins." "These are my four aunts." "Rebeka is grandma Regina, evidently." "Lotti is aunt Lotti." "Charlotta, aunt Lotti..." "Judah, my dad." "And this is aunt Salka..." " the eldest." " Good!" "See, there's a mistake here." "Judah, was set down as six." "When was your father born?" " 1920." " Perfect." "It's OK." "What day?" " October 15." " October 15." "Right." "He was six." "But they made a mistake here.." "and put him down as female." "No trade, he was six." "Couldn't read or write." "Jewish religion." " Jewish, of course." " And they boarded can barely make it out..." "Let me see... from Cherbourg, maybe?" " That's right." " Cherbourg, France." "My dad was born... in Russia, supposedly." "In the province of Chernobyl... whose capital is Kiev, I believe." "I'm not quite sure because... all immigrants at the time had trouble with their place of birth." " Date of birth?" " 1894, I think, something like that." "He was... the only child of his mother's first marriage." "Then she got divorced... and he was brought up by his grandmother when she remarried." "All I know is what he told me about wandering... in the icy streets... running errands and doing odd jobs... when he was very small." "I don't think his childhood... was very easy." " Quite the opposite." " Nor comfortable." "Knowing him, I picture a little blond child with blue eyes." "Shy." "Shivering in the cold and scrounging to survive." "I think he had some schooling... he'd always say that he worked at a printers... when he was 12... and they fed him, and surely he slept there too... he taught the boss' son to read." "The boss wasn't a generous man... because dad always said he used to go hungry... and would run... to the kitchen upstairs... where the boss' wife would feed him." "Anyway, he learned the trade... and became a typesetter, learning what you could in those days..." "And when he was... older... he went to Poland... where they offered him a better job at a newspaper." "And in Warsaw... he joined the young intelligentsia... people in those days were... very political, cultured and met my mum there too." "She's from Warsaw." "I remember mum used to say... she saved every penny... to be able to go to the opera." "That means they were keen on... music and what they could afford." "Especially opera." "They got married and lived in Warsaw... until my elder sister was born." "Three years later I was born... and before a year had past they left for Buenos Aires... where he'd been offered a job... at a newspaper... a new one, Die Presse... that became very influential in the Jewish community." "That's how they came to Buenos Aires." "Look, I don't know the exact place... but I believe it was... in the old Polish part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire." "Close to the town... that is now called Lvov in Polish and Lemberg in German." "Here's Lemberg!" "I believe it was close to... the region of Galitzia... where many Jews lived." "Grandpa and grandma Blaustein and aunt Salka," "They lived in a village... which I think... was called..." "CH L T..." "V O T Z." "Slochef." "My second sister was born there... but at the outbreak... of World War I... in 1914... my dad was drafted into military service." "So he cut a finger off... and because of that... he was turned down." "They were in this village where they lived... don't remember the name..." "I never knew it, really... because I was very little, a village... in the countryside... vast farming lands." "There were many pogroms there... they slaughtered many Jews... at that time." "The area was generally... raided by the Cossacks." "Russian Cossacks I imagine... they were near the border." "And they raided this village where my grandparents lived with my mother." "Once, when the Cossacks came... she hid... under one of the... under the bed." "But they rode about... slashing... the cots they used in those days... a sort of large pillow... square shaped... with goose feathers... and they jabbed to find anyone or anything." "He told his daughter, my mother... to run away..." "My mum was five or six... and she ran off... and hid a corn field and lay there." "But one of the Cossacks... saw her... and very quickly... rode towards her... unsheathing his sword or something." "My grandfather ran there too... begging him not to hurt her... and offered him a little case." "Again, according to mum," "I wasn't there." "The Cossack opened the case and there were jewels inside." "Typically, the Jews in those days, historically... kept them as insurance... and used to stash coins or precious metals... in case they were thrown out or were expelled." "My grandfather had saved all those assets to emigrate." "The officer saw it, took it and left... and so my mother was saved." "My mum told me that the journey was terrible." " In the holds, surely." " Indeed." "Almost certainly..." "That I, who was only a baby then, must have been just one... and sick all the time." "Terrible." "And there came a time when she bathed me in wine... because water was scarce, she said." "And that I barely made it..." "So it was..." "They should've bathed you in milk like Cleopatra." "I do remember I wished I'd been born on the ship." "I'm thought to have been sired on board, as I was born... months after they landed... in October." "I was born in May." "I was sorry because the ship's name was Lutetia... after a French island... and I liked the name." "They'd have called me Lutecia..." "Letitia..." "All my childhood I wished I'd been born on board and named after it." "Several years... passed until... my grandfather could build up his savings again." "Meanwhile, all my mother's brothers were born... and when he wanted to go to the USA... they had closed their borders to immigrants there... and they gave him the chance to come to Argentina." "He asked "What's Argentina?"." ""Another country in America."" "And so they ended up here." "Cherbourg harbour." "That's it... my mum with the four kids." "With pillows... and mattresses and everything." "We sailed in the holds of course... the cheapest bunks." "My sister Salka... was a grown up... was 18... member of Hashomer Hatzair." "It was very painful for her... to lose all her friends." "I don't know if... grandpa and grandma came together or maybe grandpa was already here." "Not very accurate information, is it?" "But the steamship was called the Demerara." "[ horn sound ] [ horn sound ]" "[ indistinctive chattering ]" "[ indistinctive chattering ]" "[ indistinctive chattering ]" "Yes." "They landed on the 27th, that's the landing date." "I don't know if they stayed at the Immigrants' Hotel." "I think so." "The names were a problem." "Imagine, your dad was called..." "Judah Socias... instead of Iude or something in Yiddish." "The translation... was quite random." "It was hard for him to be called Judah Socías... in Argentina." "Very hard." " That's why." " What do you mean?" "He later changed it to Oscar." "Everybody called him Oscar." "My father came earlier... to get everything ready, as they did at the time." "And I don't know why... he chose to go to Tandil, in Buenos Aires province." "Why Tandil?" "It was typical, all immigrants chose a spot where they had... some relative or friend who could help them out." "They are all Blausteins." "The surname is Blaustein." " An approximate date?" " Between the years 1927 and 1931." "Landed in 1927." "And they supposedly left... for Lobería between 1928 and 1930." "But they were here for sure." "Then we need people's names and dates to search for them..." " OK." "Fine." " in the records." " Shall I write it down?" " Please." "Will you write it down here?" "What kind of certificates?" "Birth, marriage or death?" "Not death, luckily." "No one died then." "Write all the most accurate information you have, names, surnames, dates." " Give me a minute." " Sure." "Here we are." "ARCHIVES DO NOT ENTER" "Once in Argentina... after some years..." "I wondered how these people struggled... and worked, because surely... at first they had to stay in some kind of communal quarters, full of people." "A kind of tenement house." "And my mum wanted to move out... so dad soon bought a plot to build his own house." "That also makes me wonder." "Dad wasn't destitute when he left Russia... he had the money to buy the land for the house." "I saw my mum working non-stop, trying to make... building a house, with a Shif-brider." "A term you find funny." "There was a man, Gershern, who lived in Mataderos... and came on Sunday mornings to help mum build the house." "Meanwhile my sister Sophie started school." "She was six..." "The school was quite far away." "It was horrible." "Dirt streets... with open ditches alongside... and the Maldonado stream nearby." "It flooded when it rained." " Where was that house, mum?" " In Paternal, in Terrero St." "A dirt street with ruts in the middle... of the mud..." "They were so big because the horse carts went by and made them" "In the middle of the street." "It was a slum house, of course." "But it was a house." " That was before we moved to San Blas." " Yes, before that." "In Terrero St." "I remember the dining room ceiling." "She'd found a mason with an artist's soul... and she let him paint the ceiling like in the Colón Theatre... with angels and cherubs painted in oil colours." "So the ceiling in my house was a work of art." "Painted with little angels." "I loved it." "It seems absurd now, but it was beautiful." "We found one." "Here we are..." "Here it is..." "Splendid!" " I can't believe it." " Didn't you know?" "." " Not at all." " You had no idea?" " No." "I'm out on a limb here." " Well then, let's see..." " Right out on a limb." " Let's enjoy this together." "Let's see what we have." "Here's Susanah's birth certificate." "Excellent!" "So they really did come here." "Yes." "Here you are." " Simon." " Let's see." "It says..." "In the city of Tandil, province of Buenos Aires..." " Excuse me." " Yes." "On 7th April, 1929..." "Simon Blaustein... the undersigned... 46, Polish... resident at 502 Montevideo St." "Son of Judah Blaustein and..." "Saundel Krell... declares that... on March 23... a baby girl was born... who has been given the name Susanah... the legitimate daughter of the aforementioned... and his spouse..." "Regina Human." "This address grandfather declared, how do I get there?" "Let me see." "Montevideo 502." "Montevideo 502." "What's..." "Yes, a few blocks from here." "What's your name?" "María Elena." "Paponetti." "Polish or Italian?" "In Tandil... they tried to set up... a shop where your father helped out a lot... worked with him... selling coal... and liquid bleach... that they made themselves... and soap." "A very hard life." "About that time there was... the great depression in Argentina, especially in Buenos Aires." "Everybody owed him money he never collected it." "He went nearly broke... and my dad told him... to move the whole family... my aunts and his wife, to Lobería." "I was with... my wife and the kids." "We all went to Lobería." "To get to know it, and to ask and learn more... silly really." "To find people... who'd know of my dad... fifty years later." "Anyway, we began to explore Lobería." "At that time, they told me Lobería... was in worse shape than where I'd come from... a well-off area of potato crops with lots of shops... plenty of general stores." "We began to ask anyone... if they knew of the Cuatz family." "That was the name... my old man's surname." "Most hadn't... until we found... a very old grocery store." "Someone came up... to ask." "A man of... about 80." "Then..." "I told him..." "I was born there... and had left some 40 years ago... my father's name and my mother's." "And I wanted to find someone who might remember them." "The old man looked at me closely... and said, "Yes, I used to know them." I didn't tell him my name was Bubi." ""Used to know a Cuatz... whose son was Bubi", and my knees went soft." ""His wife was very pretty... with braids"." "Indeed, then my mother braided... her hair and wore them in a bun." ""She had some sisters who used to go... to the library on Sarmiento street."" "The Juan B. Justo Library." "It was true, my mother's sisters... frequented the Sarmiento St. library." "Undoubtedly... he knew us... so I introduced myself and hugged him... 'cause it was kind of like finding my dad." "I had tears in my eyes." "I was very moved." "However... the most interesting thing was that my mum... was still grieving... for having thrown my dad... out of the house." "When I told her what I had done... she said, "They are all lies"." "And kept denying and denying it." "Only 40 years later... a year before she passed away... my mum said, "Yes, that was all true"." "A conspiracy of silence." "That was Lobería revisited for me and my family." "Grandpa came... with his training as a typesetter... or at least with some idea of it... because it was his life's work." "I think he began and ended... his working life as a typesetter for Die Presse." "My dad worked from dawn to dusk." "In those days there were no Saturdays." "But he didn't take Sundays off either... because the paper was very demanding... and few people knew the trade." "So dad quickly became foreman... of that section." "That was the paper they read in the milliners' shops." "My father's grandparents, for instance, who were tailors." "My grandpa read only that..." "Die Presse... from the headlines to the last page." "That was infallible." "It was a daily paper, I believe." "I think that around 1934 or 1935... they left Lobería for the Capital." "All of them." "And settled... in what was then and is still Mataderos." "I remember it was in Fonrouge street." "Often talked about." "It was a low-lying area... that got flooded very often." "Possibly one of the cheapest parts of the city to live in." "And because the mud was terrible... when it rained... my dad took their good shoes so they could go to work well dressed... and have the shoes... with them when... the good shoes... when they got on the bus." "And grandpa then started something he had done... in Tandil and Lobería... typical of the Jews in that time, being a "CuŽentenic"." "They sold on credit... and when they visited their customers... the kids called out "Mum, the Ruskie is here"." "The one who came to collect the monthly payment... for their purchases." "Later, grandpa did that on a larger scale... as his only activity here in Buenos Aires... was with little cards... on which they marked payments." "One card per customer... in a file box." "And when an account closed... they erased the pencil records and reused them." "Every penny counts." "Every month he'd give my mum... a white envelope with his wages in." "And mum'd give him back the tram fare." "He didn't ask for more." "He was very frugal." "Mati, what was the reason for that frugal, austere way of life?" "I think he had a very hard childhood... he lacked love and care as a child." " And means." " He couldn't express his feelings." "He'd never hug or kiss..." " Shy." "Shy and..." " Even if he wanted to." "And he lacked means." "Paternal in those days... when I think of it... was certainly a nice district." "Quite nice... not slums at all." "There were nice houses in the block." "A cobblestone street... and all nationalities crowded in the tenement house." "You could find along the street... people of all nationalities." "There were no quarrels... no crooks." "Maybe some weren't very friendly." "Jews weren't well liked but they left us alone." "At the most, the kids might call you names." "My friend and classmate... called me the "Ruskie"... but I didn't mind." "I thought it was kind of affectionate." "Kind of half and half." "I mean, Jews always seemed a bit odd to others." "Mostly there were Spanish and lots of Italians." "Andalucian." "From Andalucía and Naples." "As soon as they landed... the first thing they wanted to do was to forget the Polish language." "They sort of erased it... and never spoke it again." "For them, Polish... meant... pogroms, misery, anti-Semitism... repression, discrimination." "And... surely that's why, at least according to mum, that's why they set it aside altogether." "Now... why did they tell so little?" "Maybe it was because..." "Maybe, I don't know if... other families too talk less, or more." "Maybe it's got to do with the relationship... between parents and children." "I think we know so little because..." "Don't know if it's only us Blausteins." "Immigrant Jews don't usually want... to remember their past." "They had to leave when times were very hard." "They came in 1926... and it must have been grim back there." "Why wasn't Poland ever mentioned?" "Because Poles are very anti-Semitic." "Very, very racist." "Very conservative, like in current politics." "It's always been so." "I don't know if all Polish Jews resent that." "I've know a lot of Polish Jews... and never heard a word said against Poland." "But possibly dad was more into politics... and understood more... he realised what Poles were like." "I never knew my grandfather... because my grandma emigrated as a widow... but I remember hearing about my grandfather being abused... in the street." "They pulled his beard and shouted "Jew!"" "So they harboured this resentment... against the abuses by the Poles." "And then, as things improved we moved to other districts." "From there... we moved... to Corrientes St., opposite Abasto Market." "The neighbourhood was characterised... by all the market hands... who worked on the produce stalls." "Right?" "Lots of shady people." "There were lots of cafés... and lower-class restaurants... to have a glass of wine and so on... and the patrons were mostly farmers who brought the produce in... not crooks." "Some days there wasn't a penny in the house... what with sons and daughters on strike... and my grandpa out of work." "And my grandma worked miracles." "She used to go to the market... in the back street..." "Lavalle street... to find fruit and vegetables that had been thrown away there." "And she picked it up." "She brought apples, I remember... and cut out all the rotten parts." "It wasn't very often, but many times... that's what we ate." "It wasn't every day." "When times got hard... that's how grandma managed." "I never went hungry, modest food, but we were fed." "She used to split the apple into quarters... and give each of us a piece." "It was grandma's... fruit ration... and sometimes, when things... were better, adults got half... and kids a quarter." "Unlike what happens nowadays when the kids get fed first." "No... it was the breadwinners first." "My dad had... little contact with his children." "The one he was closest to, as I told you... was me, because I was the youngest... and could sit on his lap... sometimes... we'd eat together... and I was the one... he was... trying to teach religion to." "My mum was..." "I'd say... a rather stern person... not too affectionate." "In those days... my dad enrolled me in the Heder... and that was... terrible for me." "The Heder was... a religious school... in a synagogue... where there was a teacher... who used to pace... up and down the class... with a stick behind his back... he used to... beat us if someone misbehaved." "And they taught us..." "Genesis... in Hebrew... trying to translate... into Yiddish the meaning... of some of the passages." "It was the Torah." "My grandpa... took me... every morning... to a Jewish religious school that" "several devout Jews had created." "A room in a house... used as a Heiderer that means a religious school... and in the afternoon... it served as... a temple." "Grandpa looked typical... with the sparse..." "Jewish beard... his classic hat... like Orthodox Jews... wear today." "I remember once he was taking... me to the Heiderer" "holding my hand... and we passed by Abasto Market... my hand in his... and the porters were sitting or lounging about... and one of the blokes... shouted "Goat, meeeh!" (piss!" ")" "I was so embarrassed, so humiliated..." "I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me." "Grandpa kept on walking imperturbably... mumbling something... maybe Yiddish curses, something like that... but he walked on." "I was so ashamed." "All these guys repeating and jeering "Goat, meeh"... until we passed that block... and I could breath again." "Next day I thought my grandpa would change the route." "No, he went the same way." "They never repeated the mockery... but there was some resignation..." "I suppose... in my grandpa's philosophy." "Let them humiliate him he'd walk wherever he wanted." "The only time my dad beat me... was when we were playing... with water at the tenement... and dad caught me at it... and beat me saying:" ""Shame on you... to play carnival... that was when our enemies... used to beat up... the Jews." "They made them wear masks... and different costumes... to punish and abuse them."" "Maybe we realised it but he never tried to teach us." "What he wanted was for us to be good students and so on." " To be formal." " Good manners." "But... he didn't indoctrinate us in politics or religion." "Not at all." "In fact, you didn't keep up traditions in your house." "No." "We didn't keep up traditions." "Not at home." "Though... later I learned dad was quite familiar with Jewish tradition." "His mother was very religious." "And also my mum's mother... was extremely religious." "My grandma... was devout... she lit the candles on the Sabbath... and was always reading... her holy books." "On Saturday morning she attended shul." "And I went with her." "I remember..." "I took the paper... to read on the way." "And I did read, and once I bumped into a pillar on the way to the shul." "She didn't tell me any fairytales... they were Bible stories." "I loved them." "That's how I learned it... from her, because after each story she would give me some sweets." "Sometimes she even made me pray." "Naturally I didn't know that was a prayer." "I think my mum brought from Poland... a kind of Socialist education... or something like it." "In the place where they lived, in Poland..." "I don't remember the name... she was member... of a Jewish Zionist-Socialist group..." "The Hashomer Hatzair." "So she knew those people... and something in common." "That's why... in my opinion... she was one of the first... members in the Textile Workers' Union." "It was a small union of immigrants... led by Communists and Socialists." "Long before Perón's time." "That was my mother's first contact... and I remember the impact the name had... in 1936... during the Spanish Civil War... she collaborated... and was a member... of an organisation with a grand name..." ""International Red Aid"." "So, that was my mother's background." "My aunts also began in the union." "They were leather workers... and another was a shop assistant." "All of them were involved in the unions... even your mother... as soon as they started working... they joined the union." "Small unions, as I said... very committed members, persecuted... and sacked." "I remember the famous "Die Presse"... where maybe once a year... they held a banquet to celebrate... their anniversary, where my dad... used to speak." "He needed a glass of vodka as Dutch courage." "There my dad was in his element because" "I realised he was... a very cultured man... with a great sense of humour." "You couldn't see that every day 'cause he was quiet and withdrawn." "Mum told me... that he sometimes wrote articles for Die Presse... but he was very shy... and modest... and never signed them." "In his articles or his columns... there was always some other name, not his." "Uncle Simon, who was my true father... the one who raised me and whom I loved... because when he came... from Poland at 17 or 18... he was a militant Leftist... who had been in prison." "And he came from a peculiar family too." "Six or seven brothers... his father a Rabbi... and elder brother a Rabbi... two others were very religious... one or two were Socialists... and one a Communist." "That was my dad." "He was already a militant ... in 1920-1921." "After the Russian Revolution." "When you learn... how things were, you realise... that the Russian Revolution inspired... hundreds of thousands Jews... to turn to the Left and get politically involved." "When he arrived in Argentina... he joined other immigrants... and learned and became a tailor." "He and others started... the Tailors' Union... and the Milliners' Union... quite strong because so many women made a living sowing." "Meantime he met my mother... she became his girlfriend... both had been married and separated." "There was a meeting at Luna Park." "The movement was surely large by then." "They hold this meeting and..." "Dad was a speaker... and was Secretary General." "He'd been a resident for a year." "And they spoke Yiddish... the language everyone understood." "The first union meeting held in Yiddish." "Thirty thousand people." "How did grandpa react to the Communist or..." "Socialist commitment of his children?" "Very, very badly." "There were terrible... rows with his daughters." "Indeed..." "With my mum in particular... because he held her responsible." "My grandma wasn't so outspoken... but also disapproved of those activities... that were an affront to this family... that was so observant of its religion." "And with these unruly children." "Yes, totally unacceptable... no chance to talk at all." "And in those days in 1938 all who had this kind of affiliation... had police records." "The police used to come... to my grandparents'... and they felt disgraced... in front of the neighbours." "She'd like to conceal it..." "It wasn't like they were thieves... though that would have been less... shameful for grandfather, but their... being radical militants was a disgrace." "I came home from school... one day in 1939... and learnt... that during those days... the Germans... had invaded Poland... where all... my mum's relatives were... and some of my father's... but very few." "And it was devastating... because we knew... about Nazism." "And I was told... that just... a short while ago... one of my mum's cousins... had gone... to work in Bolivia." "Imagine, a Polish Jew... in Bolivia." "I don't know." "I don't know..." "Surely he knew some Spanish... because he got by... but then he couldn't stand it... he became homesick and decided to go back." "And he died there." "Both events are closely linked..." "Nazism... and these cousins' leaving." "We were living in Paternal... and there we met a group... of local boys." "One of them... was Onofre Lovero... who attended the National School... and liked the theatre." "And he asked me to help out with some short plays." "For the Mariano Moreno school." "And Teche and I had parts... and had a lot of fun." "It was very nice." "One of Sophie's friends... attended a literary salon... and once invited me." "They met on Sundays in Tigre." "They read articles on García Lorca... on Miguel de Unamuno... about revolutionary authors... and they all brought some literary works." "He took me there once or twice... to that place in Tigre..." "And your dad was in that group." "The three of us took the train... back home and I don't know... why I began to sing lullabies." "And the man was captivated." "He liked that." "We went on a date." "Don't remember the year... but I was young, still in high school." "They searched the house... on Ecuador street." "No, it was the house... near the market, the Abasto Market... in Corrientes St... and they arrested your father." "The date was for two weeks later." "At 6 pm at Corrientes and Callao." "I was so excited I'd met a man... who liked me." "I'd conquered him... with lullabies!" "Which some may find ridiculous." "And there I was, an unaccompanied woman, not a man... at Corrientes and Callao at 6.30 pm." "Waiting and waiting and my gallant date... didn't show up." "And then Pascual came... to tell me he was in jail in Villa Devoto." "So, my first love was behind bars." "They held him for a short time... luckily." "And he was released." "Those were hard times." "There was this..." "Special Section Against Communism." "And that's why... he'd been arrested... because he was a member." "The coffee bars... and tea rooms... at the time were... warm and more pleasant... than today." "You could stay there until 3 am... in that atmosphere that smelled... of beer, tobacco... or frying oil sometimes." "But friendly... the café was a shelter." "We went with books." "We read John Christopher... and Romain Roland there." "I met him in 1945." "Sadly, his father died soon after..." "I met him, I never knew him." "He was already very ill." "And we married in 1949." "There was a year we broke up in anger... and Lotti used to laugh because... your dad had my picture upside down." "He had me punished facing downwards." "Only after that year... we decided to tie the knot." "They were strange weddings then... now that I think about it." "This chat has brought so much back." "I even remembered... your mum's face... and your grandparents..." "I didn't know I remembered them." "Now that you ask... I do remember... your mum's and dad's wedding..." "I remember that." "When your dad suggested... a temple wedding..." "I refused." "I think that he'd have agreed... if I had wanted to." "But dad always had this conflict... between the religion his father... had forced on him... and the leftist ideas he acquired when he could read... and learn for himself, you know how keen he was... and he never sorted that out." "And when mum got married... her silly mutinous streak... really hurt my grandfather." "She told him they'd come to the temple... after the civilian ceremony... to the chuppah (canopy) grandfather had prepared for them." "And she stood him up... and went on honeymoon in Tigre." "There was a kind of rejection of all things Jewish, I think." "And talking about the past was part... of that, we weren't really interested." "In about 1947... one of Perón's first decrees... was... the famous Annual Bonus Bill." "And terrible things happened in the leftist unions." "They called on the workers... to refuse the salary bonus because the workers' struggle... couldn't be suppressed with handouts from the State!" "And my mum supported that!" "When nobody could make ends meet!" "Then... the other wedding was something... but also a party... with problems for Leo and me, but... there was also trouble because it happened just after... we had the civil ceremony... on August 7, right after..." "Evita Duarte... de Perón passed away." "And you remember what it was like then." "Lights had... to be turned off... no music was allowed." "Another memory also... linked to that is... when they jailed my mum... during Perón's rule." "I think she was in jail for 30 days." "At the Good Shepherd's Prison." "On Viamonte and Riobamba..." "I think it was." "In truth, it wasn't such a big matter... well, my mum was..." "But it was no tragedy for us... really, to have mum in prison." "The first bomb over the Government House." "Later, beneath the clouds, the buzzing of the planes." "The news has spread on the streets." "Jubilant citizens waved their handkerchiefs in joy." "All the family was staunchly anti-Peronist." "I remember when on 21st September, 1955." "They took me to the Plaza de Mayo... to celebrate the triumph... of the "Revolución Libertadora"." "And we were in the Plaza de Mayo... there with the oligarchy... with all the rich people!" "Absolutely." "Who went there that day?" "My parents, surely..." "Susana and Leo too." "I think we were all there... all five Blaustein brothers... in force, yes." "Unfortunately all the anti-Peronist bolshies... were in the Plaza de Mayo that day, those who'd claimed... they opposed the coup were there that morning... in defence of YPF and cheering Lonardi on the balcony." "I remember that and feel ashamed." "It was so hypocritical." "We claimed solidarity with the Peronists... and we were there with the civilian commandos." "In the Plaza de Mayo." "We got that passion... from the previous generation." "You believed it was OK to be carried away... and have these deep family arguments, beyond all the despicable anecdotes... it might involve." "But you got carried away by a sort... of Gramscian belief in your power to change reality." "We inherited that." "We didn't invent it." "Why do we always need a leader... a cause, a political project to belong to?" "Because that's our legacy." "Some people don't have this passion." "We're nine cousins." "I'm the fifth." "The first is my eldest brother... we call him Goody." "The second is Daniel... who lives in Martínez." "The third cousin is Alex." "And the fourth is..." "Ariel, David's older brother." "I'm the fifth." "David is sixth." "No, he gave me a nod of approval, like saying" "Gabriel is the seventh, my other aunt's son." "Eduardo is the eighth, David's younger brother... and the ninth is Mario." "Cousin!" "Good to see you!" "Same here..." "And all the cousins were very close." "Three sisters, with three sons each... who, in spite of their social differences... had, and still have... this strong family bond." "So I think there wasn't... a Sunday we didn't gather at one or another's house." "It was in Paternal... where... we had our first home... almost... a tenement house." "There was a large corridor... with doors on both sides... and you lived with your neighbours." "Like brothers... there were Italian, Spanish... and Jewish." "And the neighbourhood smells." "For instance, I'll never forget the smell... in Cucha Cucha and San Blas streets... where grandma lived... and I spent... a lot of time... there was this bread cart." "It stopped every few blocks... at fixed spots and the neighbours came to buy their bread." "When the doors of that horse box cart opened... there was this smell of freshly baked bread." "I am imprinted with that." "I'll never forget it." "In those days... districts were divided into blocks." "We were the Espinosa kids... and San Blas." "Round the corner was the Cucha Cucha group." "And we were all different." "At 8 or 9 in the summer evenings... everybody sat in deck chairs by their doors to get some fresh air." "It was different." "I remember when we bought... the famous "Pulpo" (octopus) football... a striped rubber ball." "And some neighbours... when it landed by their houses wouldn't return it." "One bloke in particular, quite nasty... took a knife and slashed it." "And he returned it split in half... saying "Want the ball?" "Here's your ball"." "We had the first TV in the area." "A Hallycrafter set, square... with a round screen, like a porthole." "At 5.30 pm all the neighbours' kids..." "And my mum gave everybody milky coffee." "came to watch Cisco Kid and all those... early shows old Channel 7 showed... in Argentina." "On Saturday night... they had shows from the Colón Theatre... or maybe a film." "We lived in a small flat with a yard, and the rooms looked out... over this backyard." "Then all the neighbours brought their chairs out to the yard... and my dad put the TV at the door... and if there was a signal and the set worked... 'cause it was all quite hit or miss... all the neighbours watched the film or the play." "My dad wanted me to be a sportsman... but he had no luck." "Or my brothers... though my younger brother always played basketball." "And to be a musician... for he loved music." "Then he bought my older brother an accordion... and me a clarinet that we never played." "He got me things I didn't care about." "He bought a tennis racket... though at the time tennis was seen... as a pansy thing to do." "He tried everything to make me do... what I disliked... but I'm grateful... to him and mum for making me study." "I hated it." "I don't know... how I managed to matriculate." "But studying was a must... according to the paradigm... of "my son the doctor", we had to." "But it was very hard for him, he was never well off." "I think they always saw themselves as poor and humble... and that we were rich... but they were very good people... with a heart of gold." "And they made... that count." "I think the spirit... of the family... the atmosphere, I think, as I lived it... was at Mauricio and Sophie's and their children... their daughters-in-law and a grandchild... not in your house or mine." "You see, excuse me." "One of my mother's virtues... was to bring people together." "She knew how to get us together... and one of her main virtues... was her cooking." "Aunt Mati's house was wealthy... half a block at Olivos Golf... with a huge park and a swimming pool." "We played with toy soldiers... non-stop." "Hours, days, weeks we spent playing that everywhere." "And we had fireworks." "High technology in our war games... when we wanted bombs we set it up, we dropped fireworks... and they exploded blowing the lead soldiers every which way." "And thus we had our great battles." "We might be three hours setting up... and five minutes fighting." "Destruction is much faster than construction." "Your family seemed kind of stern... austere even." "I'd have the feeling... when I visited your home or slept over... like I should behave myself... we couldn't make any mess." "You felt a bit cramped there you had to be on parade a bit." "Your dad talked like... he was well read, educated." "He'd talk about school, books..." ""and what are you doing... or studying, or reading?"" "And as your mum was a teacher of different subjects." "They preferred education... rather than sports." "We were there to turn the house into a mess... and they talked about books." "Your mum likes to show off how cultured she is." "Even in the way she speaks." "I value other things in her." "But if you're a good reader and you know a lot... it isn't for the world to know." "It's for yourself." "It's as though if you don't read... the cultural supplements, you're a nobody." "That was a sort of measuring stick, used to see... who's cultured and who isn't." "You never know what you brought along... and what you picked up." "But dad's demands and his son's arbitrary nature." "For instance, he had a row with me or with mum... and things were strained..." "I'd lock myself in the bathroom to read..." "Dunoff's Handbook of Jewish History." "That way I cleansed my sins... and hoped I might bring peace, and dad and mum'd settle... their differences, or dad wouldn't rant at me anymore." "A stern Jewish method... tinged with guilt." "But that book was very important." "And he had some things... was kind of an authoritarian." "When we were kids and Ariel wanted to sleep over... and your dad would say no." "And there was no reason to refuse it was OK, it was Saturday... but he seemed to need to show his authority... to lay down the rules." "And Ariel would give me a look... he was my friend and we had... a lot of fun when he stayed over." "But your dad wouldn't let him and nobody knew why." "And you couldn't even ask your dad... he wouldn't discuss, or give you a..." "What's it called?" "An explanation." "No meant no." "It was an attitude, ...very complicated." "Gaby or I could sleep over... in your house anytime without telling anybody." "My mum would call and say..." ""Oh, he's there?" "OK."" "My people were always sort of careless." "But your dad was the problem." "Then the old man passed on the oral... and political tradition, explaining about the Spanish Civil War... and Sacco and Vanzetti, holding us in his lap... and telling us a never-ending story." "Add that to what other cousins... said about his being stern... and arbitrary, this other side... that was so warm... and sweet that suddenly opened up and shared a whole world with you." "It wasn't easy, how can I tell you... to get across to your dad... he himself used to build barriers." "I didn't share his ideas, or ideology... though I never argued about politics." "He was ascetic almost... to self-inflict pain, as if that were good." "But I didn't have to bear it..." "I saw it from the outside." "Like a film I saw it." "Maybe... he could afford to buy you Adidas trainers... but if there was another cheaper brand... that's the one he would buy, not for lack of money... but rather because he thought it wasn't good." "I don't know if any of you remember that wonderful event... our parents arriving on a birthday... with a pile of books as a present." " Remember that?" " No, not at all." " It was wonderful, Coco." " Was it?" "Wonderful." "It was food for thought." "They'd give me... four volumes of biographies for my birthday." "Your dad... used to be a salesman... for a German company Colibrí Dyes." "Dyes were used a lot back then." "Didn't you know that?" "Well!" "That's denial!" "Back then, women dyed their clothes... black for mourning." "They wore the same clothes but dyed them." "People used a lot of dyes at that time." "Later, he saw that grandfather... who at the time... was selling knives, produced by our budding national industry... in '44 or '45, was doing well." "And he got into that too." "To get contacts and work, and..." "And no doubt he was very able... he grew and became very important." "It started out as... a knife shop... then they sold cutlery and it grew." "And ended up... being what it is... never mind the details." "But I laughed... and couldn't believe it... because among all the pewter goods... they sold crucifixes." "It seemed ridiculous... to mix crosses... with the Jewish religion." "I sometimes travelled to the provinces... to visit customers... your dad had visited before." "And they really appreciated him." "I think he never concealed his left-wing views... from those people, those who had a similar outlook." "He spoke freely... and they respected and appreciated him." "But I insist... that his sour disposition might've been caused... by these terrible contradictions... that he endured." "A man of his abilities... being a salesman." "He did his best... but I don't think he was very happy." "That may be the reason for his long face... that left a number of victims on the way." "Look, I don't know if it's Blaustein or Niemand... but that's what my analysis... reveals." "That I can't... enjoy what I have." "It's interesting, you see, I've had so many years of analysis... and I saw that a while ago with one of my many shrinks." "The fact that I can't appreciate... and enjoy what I have." "It's true what you say..." "It's like an order... a very Jewish thing." "But there are Jews who are spared and have a good life." "So, tell me your version... of Saturday afternoons at grandma's." "It was a must, David." "I had to leave the world of my friends... my childhood, the ball games... the marbles, the garden." "And I had to dress up... and see all the aunts who kissed me, smearing lipstick all over me... and behave so that dad could be proud... of his little jewels, 'cause dad came to show off his jewels." "And the competition... and arguments, and I felt left out... until I befriended cousin Yiye." "Then we could play with sports cards... or we could go down to Ecuador street... and play football." "Or play chess... but earlier on, when I was little... all I could do was sit there very still... very proper under my parents' wing." "It was so dull." "And I won't give you the details... of the characters that gathered there... there was a grandmother... who had to be spoken to in Yiddish so she could grasp... what they said about films... or politics, which she didn't get anyway." "All she said was "Eat, eat..."" "and that was that." "I think the old man... taught us to take sides for justice... for the dispossessed... very strongly." "To side with the dispossessed." "He would tell us about the Russian Revolution... and then about the Spanish Civil War." "Later he opposed the Yanks in Vietnam." "In every discussion about Peronism... he tried to see how to link... the Anarchist and Communist Unions to all that." "And then there were all the little everyday examples he set... specially during the holidays... when he'd approach a labourer and listened to what he had to say." "And that's what we inherited." "He was an old Jew from the Once district... with that common touch of the countryside, he could listen... and make others talk." "I think we've got... that gift too, all of us." "I mean, to listen and ask questions like..." "How are things?" "How's the crop this year?" "And the weather and the government... and what not." "We got that." "Dad's contempt for the Jews who went to the shul." "Because they went to do business and he despised that." "He set himself above all that... it was so contradictory, he attended because he felt Jewish... and to accompany his mum." "But he hated those Jews who bought... for two and sold for four, like Manuel Belgrano said in the May Revolution." "He made me feel that he lived... in Once against his will, so to speak." "That money gave him power... but he strived for higher goals." "The funny thing is that my first contact... that the existence of God should be through readings... 'cause mum and dad never said there was a God, did they?" "They made a stand on the subject of faith." "I picked it up from that book... and the drawings and I was so angry... with the parable about Isaac's sacrifice." " Why?" " Because God told Abraham... he had to sacrifice his son to prove his faith." "Then I thought Jehovah was a bastard... asking him to do such a thing." "In that part of the old Jewish..." "In creation books, Jehovah is arbitrary, angry and despotic." "That gave me this resistance to authority." "Since then I can't abide authority." "Dad was also despotic, and power is something we all compete for." "I also remember David, or Samson... but the strongest thing came years later... with the Israelite heroes... from Howard Fast's books." "The Maccabean brothers fighting the Greeks, kind of guerrillas... they were too." "Anti-imperialist freedom fighters... against huge odds, from defeat to defeat." "That's funny too, all the books we read were heroic stories of resistance... and we always lost." "And the old people... told us about the persecution of the Jews... tears and defeat." "And yet, we in turn threw our lot in with the revolution." "It's kind of absurd." "So you feel these Bible stories and Howard Fast... sort of shaped your identity... or do you think it was just literature... that now sounds very ideological... and had an influence on you?" "No, I think it mattered like many other things." "But that feeling for justice that redemption, religious thing." "The idea that all who suffer... will one day triumph... if we resist." "I think that, as we grow older... we feel closer... to the family." "Maybe you don't see it that way." "We have left Yiddish behind..." "Dad's father died before I was born... our grandparents died." "And Yiddish became the language the "shikseh" wouldn't understand." "None of you went to a Jewish school or learned Hebrew like I did." "But we tried to with Edu, on different occasions." "Yes." "And I think..." "Dad came closer then." "The State of Israel was founded and he saw a way to express... his Jewish roots through that." "As part of a Jewish Left and progressive world, of course." "The story of the Warsaw Ghetto touched me deeply, once I heard it." "I'm sure we must have been very naive... to believe for so long that most Jews... in Argentina and the world held the same values..." " as we did." " Yes." "I started to look for my roots... and understand, but this rejection for all things..." "Jewish made me refrain... from asking." "I lacked interest in their story and all that." "I couldn't abide my Jewish heritage." "I told myself "I'm Argentine... and agnostic, I've nothing to do with Judaism"." "And that explains why none of us asked any questions." "It happened to all of us." "No questions asked." "It's so contradictory, because they sent us to Jewish schools." "Progressive, but Jewish." "And I made such a fuss, they had to move me elsewhere." "And about what you said... about the disagreements... they began to pop up... with the first news about Stalin's massacres... in particular of Jews." "Something that even the Communist Jews... from ICUF denied... and still do." "But people like my father... began to confront the Communists... and yet the Blausteins... were a front of sorts with my aunts, everyone... even me, against this attitude of the old man." "We argued with him." "And when I began to participate and learned of Stalin's crimes... and while I was at school... there was the invasion of Czechoslovakia..." "I found myself close to the dissident branch of the CP." " It seemed the guys were right." " Well, I am." " Didn't last, though." " I remember my arguments... with the Communist Youth kids at high school." "I repeated what I'd heard... from dad, from Bubi... and from Simon, I suppose." "That's my impression." "When I began to take part in these arguments, holding... quite different opinions... they even called me Fascist." "Because I had a nationalist..." "Peronist outlook on everything... that was happening in the country in '68, '69, '70." "Then things... began to get... out of hand more and more." "About the emergence of these revisionist views... like yours, or my cousin Yiye's..." "I don't remember that." "Maybe you said something, but the family wasn't very concerned... about that." "It was the country reaching maturity... the new generations that were growing up all over the world." "It was the bookstores on Corrientes... the culture, the night life." "It was blooming all over with an unbounded optimism." "That never happened again, unfortunately." "There was that atmosphere everywhere." "We felt we could change the world." "That everything could be different a bubbling feeling that helped..." "I think, to create the right conditions... for the young to become political... at that time... and take a political stand against authoritarianism." "I was president of the Students' Union." "I had a lot of weekly meetings, and night trips to paint walls." "And dad looked at me with deep disgust... like I was so busy with meetings... that didn't matter at all." "But perhaps he foresaw... what was coming, because it was already 1975." "And then, unfortunately, everyone... began to look after themselves, to save their own skin..." "Isn't that so?" "When things clearly went downhill." "And after all this, I felt it got even worse... and I believed that the contract should be renewed... in some way, to accept the risks... of all that was happening." "Or not." "And in my case for personal reasons..." "I felt I didn't have... the political will, the inner commitment... to revolutionary ideas... that might lead me to decide... to risk my life because it was worth losing it... in the name of revolution." "That notion... was shaken to the core." "The risks... were real... and serious and..." "I didn't have in me the degree of commitment that it'd require." "At about 11 that night, on 6th May, 1976... three thugs turned up... and asked me whether I'd seen... to any bullet wound." "I said no... but they insisted..." " Sure?" " Yes, sure, look at the ER service sheet... we haven't seen anyone here with bullet wounds." "And they asked for..." "Dr. Ariel Blaustein." "I said that was me and they told me I'd have to go with them." "And I realised they were kidnapping me... and shouted for help so that somebody would know." "And one of them... pulled out a gun and said, "Another word and I'll kill you."" "Above all, I was so surprised." "Shit, they must have done something." "A week later we had a terrible row with dad... who wanted to send us to the provinces... for our protection, poor man." "But mostly he wanted to know... our degree of involvement." " I remember that." "And I couldn't tell him." "And wouldn't." "I was a union delegate of the IRS... and after the coup they wanted me to join the armed militia and I refused." "And I told dad we didn't have any friends... or shelter in the provinces, that was crazy... and he said, "Then go to Peru."" "And I said, "Dad, Peru is falling apart."" " No, we didn't know that." " Yes, we did." "Did we, really?" "I remember we wanted to go to Mexico." "Batata had told me... about the Montoneros' safe house." "So, forget Peru." "And dad said Israel and when I turned down Israel, he went mad." "Carola gesticulated to me." "Your brothers left yesterday." "I was being held at Police Headquarters, legally arrested." "I felt so relived you were OK, and so empty... because.." "Shit!" "I was alone." "At first, it all seemed to happen so quickly... you couldn't see where you were, and yet we were there." "We were in a daze, struggling all the time to manage... to survive... a double-edged sword." "You are supposedly so at ease on Mars..." "Looking for a job on Mars." "I think we all went through a painful phase, very hard... in the first two years, especially when there was news... of other people disappearing or being taken." "And then... bouncing about, searching, and because the pain grows duller... you find some normality." "You let yourself be contaminated... in the best sense... by the energy of the place, you start to belong, to meet the locals." "And gradually you get ahead... even reach a moment, I say this without guilt... when you can be happy." "I had good times there... maybe because I was younger... and was presumably... more flexible." "I was already a loner and became more so... in exile." "It made me stronger... living on nothing... managing with nothing... to be austere in a good and bad sense." "Curiously, Mexico was for me a kind of limbo... a five or six-month long... ever changing dream, changing houses... or even mattresses, as there were no houses sometimes." "The hardest time... was the first 18 months in Barcelona, when we were together." "Maybe Mexico... was just an introduction and Barcelona was the real thing." "Very depressing... lots of bad news, like when Maca drove us from Barajas to Madrid... telling us about the dead... and how crazy the kids were in Barcelona." "So... they left our lives violently... and all we did... as a family was to help out..." "Teche and Oscar." "Especially Teche... not because Oscar felt nothing... but he showed it less." "And we saw Teche cry... though she's so tough." "So the family tried to comfort them." "Exile is something very odd... like your story has just begun." "It's devastating." "Nobody knows you, you have to explain everything." "The others have a story." "I spend my holidays here... every year, with my dad, my mum, my grandparents... and you're starting from scratch all the time." "Terrible." "Making mistakes with people... reading faces that said one thing while the person said another." "Here you knew the people, could read them." "Everyday stuff was so hard." "Then when Matías was born all that changed, got better... we got residence permits and I graduated." "You said we didn't ask questions." "That's true." "I asked my mother..." ""What about the kids?" "Eduardo?"" "They're OK, in Spain." "How can I tell you..." "It drove me mad to think I'd have to stay in exile... be an immigrant, repeat my dad's story." "I wanted to put an end to that." "Some of my grandmothers couldn't speak good Spanish, remember?" "I couldn't bear it when my kids ask me about Spanish history... or geography and I wouldn't know." "It drove me mad." "Totally out of my mind." "I wanted to go back to my homeland." "I thought, How nice not to have mum and dad around." "That's great... not to have to explain... no conflicts." "And the strongest memory... was when that entity called parents was suddenly brought to mind... when I visited a Catalan friend." "I made friends with guys my age... who lived alone mostly." "Lots of students... moved to Barcelona, and I visited this Catalan guy, his mother opened the door, and I was shocked, "Wow, a mother!"" " What were you afraid of when they..." " What do you mean?" "What were you afraid of when they were both abroad?" "Afraid?" "I wasn't afraid at all then." "Really?" "They weren't in danger anymore." "They were abroad." "Ariel in Spain..." "Coco and Eduardo in Mexico." "They were safe." "I wasn't afraid." "I missed them." "I remember... when Oscar got so sick... once I went out to the garden and began to scream..." ""The kids!" "The kids"." "Don't know who I was shouting at." "When I decided to come back..." "Ariel, Carola and Helga... were visiting me there and they kind of said..." ""You're sure?" "No, not better."" "But I'd made up my mind to go back." "Also dad's accident, when that car ran over him... and he was laid up with both legs broken." "And I realised I had to come to help him out." "Except it was so hard at first... the gloomy atmosphere of their house... like an asylum." "Was it you or Ariel... who was so shocked when I wrote... that La Lucila had become a kind of mental asylum?" "Then Mako, that Japanese guy you mentioned in your e-mails... told me about El porteño magazine." "So three months later I found work... and was listening to local rock music." "There were ups and downs, but coming home was great." "Anyway David, people didn't know or ask during the dictatorship." "We human beings are like that, we avoid pain." "We, so perfect, supposedly so ideological... also looked away, didn't ask." "Or chose not to be interested in all that." "Not for a lifetime, David." "I think it's like that." "It's the same pain I feel when I must explain these things... to my children." "I told you about the scene I had with Matías." " What was that?" " After seeing "Hunters of Utopia"... we were having lunch at home one weekend... and I was explaining some historical event that had happened to us... and Matías says... he was just starting high school, and he says "So daddy... was it a military government or was it a dictatorship?"" "And I snapped at him, "I told you it was the dictatorship"." "And I saw Carola and Ana's angry looks blaming me for the outburst." "And Matías got up and went to his room... across the garden, there in Parque Chas." "I realised I'd blundered and went after him." "And his eyes were full of tears... and he said, "Don't you see I can't understand unless you explain?"" "And I started to cry with him because I was rushing him... through it all to avoid explaining it." "And these constant misunderstandings are caused by all the pain." "And what do you think about combining family history with the family's exile?" "That's indeed remarkable." "There was this trunk we took from Buenos Aires to Barcelona... that had belonged to Carola's grandma, and had travelled from Austria... to Malaysia, to plant tea." "From Malaysia to Vienna, from Vienna to Chile... when the Nazis occupied Vienna." "From Chile to Argentina, and we took it again to Barcelona." "And brought it back to Argentina." "And you see it like the ups and downs of history." "Human history is pure speculation until you get run over by it." "Why?" "Because it taught us work ethics... responsibility... work... to obey the law... no matter what." "And not to enjoy life." "You all have some idealism of the kind that... comes from way back." "Maybe the same idealism of my grandfather... who felt part... of the Russian Revolution... and all those strong social movements... so appealing to us." "We all felt that calling at some time." "Yes, we all are idealists." "But there was also the need... to obey the law... to always be working... and do your best... and, on the other hand, to move forwards, onwards." "Like everyone else, dad tried... to do the best with his life... to adapt to the conditions... of his time, whatever happens" "Our own experience in exile... might help us understand that." "We should take into account... that Argentina was an attractive country." "A country under construction... a land of milk and honey, like Israel." "The image of the country was so strong." "Many second-generation immigrants... not only forgot they were Poles, or Russians, or Germans... but even that they were Jews." "We all have that." "The need... to move on, not to stay put." "To move forwards." "Like they did." "Like they did."