Mother’s Day is in October for me this year. Yes, it may be the season of Halloween and apple picking in America, but spring has just arrived to Buenos Aires. And Mother’s Day is always in spring, right? I plan to buy flowers for my host mother, and treat her out to lunch. I’m pretty sure she’ll protests, “Janette! You already do the dishes!” So, we’ll see how this goes.
The reason why I write this is because I missed my mother’s birthday (again) last month (September 26th). My mother is my best friend and I don’t like how far I am from her. But she has to be the coolest because she doesn’t allow me to return to California when she knows I want to explore the world. She’s supporting me 1234567890% with my decision to miss the holidays, in order to volunteer in Peru. She’s pretty dope like that. My mother has come a long way. She was an orphan in Mexico and moved to the States while pregnant with this blogger. After years of hard work, she’s now a proud self-employed business-woman raising a family of four, and enjoying her life to the fullest with a loving husband. Like I typed, pretty dope!
Now why talk about my mom when she’s not physically in my adventures abroad?
The topic of mothers was a crucial factor in my decision to study abroad in Buenos Aires. There’s a group of powerful women here called Las Madres de Plaza de Mayo (The Mothers of Plaza de Mayo). They came together on April 30, 1977, after many Argentines had disappeared under the dictatorship at the time. Most of the Disappeared had been tortured (and possibly murdered) and these women were furious. Unlike most protestors, these women remained silent as they circled the main square in front of the Casa Rosada (the President’s house). As some mothers were kidnapped/killed, the rest kept at it. Nowadays, every Thursday, some can be seen in Plaza de Mayo.
I was lucky enough to witness one woman last Thursday.
To see what I had been taught in three of my classes in NYC, and to witness this strong female figure still demanding answers for her son’s disappearance nearly 40 decades after the original march… I was left speechless. I didn’t dare take a photo of her as she marched; but I was quick to snap one as she walked away. Seeing this motherly love brought me to tears and I thank the Lord that my mother will never have to go through something like this.
Returning to my homestay, I bought flowers for my host mother. I had broken her plate earlier in that day. She laughed at my worried face and embraced me. I thanked her for everything she had done for me. This Sunday my Mama will receive a surprise; while, here in Buenos, I’ll be thanking a new motherly figure in my life.
Happy Mothers’ Day from Argentina!