Uberlinda, the Cardboard and the Fire
by Graciela Monteagudo
|
At the end of the tunnel, there were the burning coals
of a brasero. The iron bucket was the only source of heat
for the hut with a cement floor and cardboard walls.
Uberlinda saw the world for the first time in a slum
outside of Cipolletti, Río Negro, Argentina.
|
First her mom and her dad. Then her lover and her
husband. Later, the nurses and the police. The hurt would
come in cold red waves. It would stain the cardboard walls.
Fourteen and no shoes. Lice painting the paths of shame
on her skull. Below zero sometimes. Uberlinda found the
dumpster. Spectral landscape of half burnt garbage. A
search for cardboard to be sold for a few coins.
The psychiatrist reported that her mother died when she
was four. Her father's multiple partners abused her. At
fourteen she escaped with a man.
Ensio looking like a god in his factory overalls. Oil
digger in the town of Cultral-Co, nearby.
Turned around. Soft from inside. Melting brown skin. It
was quick. Just a little pain. Not much of nothing, but it
did open the door out of her father's for her.
Later, Uberlinda, following the rules of the hospital,
had her legs tied to the stirrups. Fire burning through
her. Again, the cold red waves that engulfed her from
within. The closer she gets the more it hurts. It's all
over. Slapped by the doctor, the baby wails. Her breast is
warm and the baby relaxes and sleeps.
An accident. Just an accident. Uberlinda watched her
children burn. Flames and guilt and anger. Then and there,
she stopped noticing her lice. Her lice followed her
everywhere, since the beginning of time. Once, her lice
followed her into the asylum. They did not abandon her, not
even when Uber hit her head against the wall, confusing, in
her delirium, the padded walls of the confinement room with
the cardboard walls of her burning home.
Ensio, from god in overalls to drunk in rags. The
gringos took the oil and dumped the Ensios. The piquetes
spread throughout the country. Fire on the national
highways. Stones, rain, highway asphalt. Guards in riot
gear. Masked men, women and children in rags. Stones and
sticks against lead bullets. The judge, a woman, stood on a
tank. A small body on a war machine. In a direct democracy
assembly with the people, she heard their cry and commanded
the Guard away.
Juan, her 15 year old, threw stones with amazing aim.
They banged against the acrylic shield that protected the
soldier's faces. All of them masked. The National Guard
charged. From behind the burning tires, Uberlinda took aim.
The molotov described an almost perfect arch on the dark
sky. For a second, it lit up a war scene and then it was
all fire and pain.
The prosecutor reported that Uberlinda was arrested in
a piquete in the town of Cipolletti, charged with
obstruction of a public highway, attack to National Guard
officers, damage to property and disorderly behavior.
The police station, dirty and small. Uberlinda and many
women. Sweat, anger and, for the first time compañeras to
break bread with. Uberlinda learns a new word: solidarity.
It's the feeling that holds her up when the sergeant -a
woman- bangs her head against the wall. Outside, the people
of Cipoletti riot until a judge releases the piqueteras and
piqueteros.
Uberlinda, with two of her surviving children in high
school, picks up cardboard and continues to organize with
the autonomous piqueteros of Cipolletti. For the past few
years, some families have been receiving $50.00 a month
plus some food from the government. Uberlinda bakes, plants
a garden, gossips and sometimes fights with her compañeras.
Despite President Néstor Kirchner's bravado with the IMF,
the debt continues to be paid with Uberlinda's blood,
cardboard, lice and fire.
-
–
Graciela Monteagudo
Uberlinda, the cardboard and the fire was originally published in the Journal of Aesthetics Protest.
Graciela Monteagudo is an Argentinean human rights activist and
community artist. She holds an MFA from Goddard College and has
worked internationally with diverse communities both on her own and
with Bread and Puppet Theater. Some of her work has included
coordinating puppet and street theater actions in Latin America and
throughout the US. Lately, Graciela has been touring internationally with
multimedia presentations about Argentina as the coordinator of the
Argentina Autonomista Project (www.autonomista.org)
|
|
