A lot has happened here in Peru since my last blog entry, and I unfortunately had to give up on trying to post up-to-the minute news analysis. What follows are a few thoughts about the last week or so here in Peru.

When I posted my first blog entry, I thought to myself “maybe this is too basic, everyone knows about memory and why it’s important.”  But I decided to post it anyways just to set the stage for the work I would be doing here in Peru.  And now, in the aftermath of a violent confrontation between indigenous groups in Bagua and police officers, I am again reminded of the importance of memory.  Indeed, some aspects of history appear to be repeating themselves in Peru these days.   News from Bagua, located in the northeast of Peru, had been grim since June 4th when violent clashes between the police and civilians erupted.  A bit of background:  over the last two months, protestors from the Bagua province have been blockading roads and demonstrating against the Peruvian government’s plans to open up Amazonian land for private energy projects.  The confrontation turned violent when both Peruvian police officers and civilians perished in the battle that ensued between the police and protestors.

On my walk to work on Monday, a few days after the violence, I passed at least four newsstands where people from the neighborhood gather every morning to read the headlines.  I had followed the news from Bagua all weekend, paying special attention to the reports coming for the Human Rights Coordinator’s Office, and so was surprised to see that almost all of the headlines focused solely on the dead police officers.  Those that did mention civilians at all either showed pictures of angry “nativos” holding spears or screamed “Bestias!”  They were clearly referring to the protesters.   The government rhetoric they echoed was harsh and drew direct comparisons between the protesters and the Shining Path.  Human rights workers were skeptical that the number of civilian deaths reported by the government was accurate.  Reports began to surface from activists working in Bagua that the police were attempting to dispose of the bodies of dead civilians by either burning them or throwing them in the river.  It was then that I was reminded of the importance of memory.  If these reports turn out to be true, then history will indeed be repeating itself.

And then, in the midst of all of the news Zack and I, as well seven other members of the EPAF, team left for Abancay, Apurímac.  We were invited to accompany EPAF in Abancay while they carried out a workshop to instruct various elements of the judicial apparatus in Apurímac in how to carry out comprehensive forensic investigations, particularly in cases of forced disappearances or mass graves. We flew into Cusco and then drove about three hours to Abancay.  The drive was spectacular-a winding road led us up and down mountain after mountain in zig-zags, all the while with colossal snow-capped summits hovering in the distance.  When we arrived, we were confronted with a very different reality than that which we experienced in Lima. The town, although located in a completely different part of the country, exuded much more solidarity with the Amazonian protesters then one might have expected from a city in the highlands.  This phenomenon played out on our third day when the city, in solidarity with the rest of the country, went on strike for the majority of the day.  Instead of opening their shops or going to the office, people took to the streets in peaceful marches demanding rights for those fighting against government decrees to exploit the Amazon.

We decided to cancel the public forum that was supposed to be held that night out of fear that after a long day of protests, not many people would be interested in attending.  However, we did still hold the three-day training and this ended up being a fascinating experience.  Not only did I have a chance to learn more about EPAF’s work in the field of forensics, but I also was able to participate in some of the interactive portions of the workshop geared at giving the public prosecutors and judges an experience in the field.  We joked that our job-entering a crime scene, examining evidence, and discovering bodies-was much like the U.S. television show CSI.  Indeed, when exhuming a mock mass grave containing the fake bodies of a family, supposedly tortured, killed and buried by military officials in 1994, joking is really all you can do to keep it together.

Public prosecutors examine a mock mass grave at EPAF training workshop in Abancay

Public prosecutors examine a mock mass grave at EPAF training workshop in Abancay

Although each subject probably deserves its own blog entry, the juxtaposition of the events in Bagua and EPAF’s training in Abancay was a poignant reminder of the responsibility we have to remember the events of the past, particularly on a national level.  Unfortunately, symbolic manifestations that recognize the past cannot address the severe economic imbalance and social contusions that some regions of the country continue to experience.   This is where EPAF can play a role.  Not only are they training officials for the tactical end of improving criminal investigations, and thus strengthening the judicial system, but also helping them to recognize the human rights violations that occurred in a population that has had very little access to the legal system.   EPAF also provides a way to support the families of those that were disappeared during the conflict.  They do this by, as my colleague Carmen Rosa explained, finding hidden graves, exhuming them, identifying the victims with a number of comprehensive tools, and finally, transferring them from the status of a “disappeared person” to a real person.  A person with an identity, a story, and a family that has been wondering what happened for the last twenty years.

Here is a short clip of the protests in Abancay, for Bagua:

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that in an office tasked with exhuming mass graves and analyzing the remains of bodies, ghost stories would eventually surface. Indeed, on a tour of the office I was shown boxes full of personal articles from the bodies of the mass graves-items that have gone unclaimed by family members.   They are from the excavation and exhumation of a mass grave that EPAF worked on last year-one of the sites addressed in the trial of now convicted former President Alberto Fujimori.    I pass these boxes every day as I walk to the kitchen for coffee.  Since being here, I’ve heard stories ranging from keys that went missing and suddenly reappeared in plain sight to apparitions waking members of the team up in the middle of the night in Ayacucho, where some of the remains from Putis remains were stored.

Today is my third day at EPAF, and fourth day in Peru after arriving at the crowded Lima airport late last Saturday night.   And since that moment, the crowds haven’t stopped. From packed sidewalks to chaotic traffic, this city is in constant motion and I find myself having a little trouble keeping up.   The challenge is feeling as though everyone seems to know exactly where they are going, be it by bus or by taxi, except for me.  However, I have no doubt that this will soon change as I get used to the new world around me.  I’m living close to the EPAF office, which is very convenient, but a bit far from most of my friends in Miraflores, a wealthier section of the city.   However, as I hear the experiences of friends living in guarded UN complexes in other countries, I’m grateful for the opportunity to live outside of my comfort zone.

Apart from endowing me with an eerie feeling of both fear and excitement (read: ghost stories), my first few days at EPAF have provided me with the opportunity to learn more about the team and each of their backgrounds.  While most are trained in forensic anthropology and archaeology, there is also a strong undercurrent of dedication to human rights, especially with regards to the forcibly disappeared and their families.  In addition to being experts in exhumations and forensic analysis, they are now constantly traveling all over the country and abroad to hold workshops and trainings. These sessions are used to train public prosecutors in carrying out forensic investigations to ensure that evidence is handled correctly and that all possible information about the victim is collected.

I must admit that seeing the reality of forensic investigation up close has been somewhat jarring.   As human beings, we frequently desensitize ourselves to violence, compartmentalizing or ignoring what we see.   We create distance and more often than not, that distance is real, as most of us live full lives without feeling the direct impact of violence or violent acts.  I’m not condemning this, because I understand that it is how we cope. But what I hope to convey is that when you can see the angle at which a bullet has entered a skeleton, the story and the pain of that act of violence becomes all the more real.  I imagine that everyone in this field develops their own way of dealing with these revelations, but regardless, I have tremendous respect for their work after learning more about it these last few days.

On a different note,  Zack and I  were happily surprised to find out that we would be heading to Abancay, a town located a few hours outside of Cusco, next week.  We will get to observe one of the trainings, but also have the opportunity to interview families of victims. The plan is to be there for about a week, which is probably just enough time to get sick from the altitude, as I have the tendency to do.  However I am looking forward to beautiful mountain landscapes and to spending some time outside of Lima.