Friday, May 11, 2007

Anak anak bangsa dari Plaza de Mayo

Saya mengunjungi Buenos Aires, Argentina, di bulan Agustus 1996, dalam rangka mengikuti the World Conference on Clinical Pharmacology and Therapeutics. Diundang untuk memberikan ceramah tamu sekaligus rapat Executive Committee dari Division of Clinical Pharmacology, the International Union of Pharmacology. Kebetulan saya menjadi ketua subkomisi dari Clinical Pharmacology for Developing Countries, sejak konggres sebelumnya di Yokohama di tahun 1992.

Berangkat lewat Kuala Lumpur Malaysia dengan menggunakan Malaysian Airline System (MAS). Tertunda semalam di KL karena listrik padam di seluruh semenanjung, bandara Subang praktis lumpuh. Di beri penginapan hotel di tengah kota yang praktis gelap gulita. Berangkat kesesokan harinya melalui route Johanesburg terus ke Buenos Aires. Tiba pukul 0300, Senin dini hari bersama dengan Edmund Lee dari Singapura. Saya tinggal di Buenos Aires Grand Hotel.

Seharusnya tiba hari Minggu sore jika pesawat tak terlambat. Tak sempat menghadiri upacara pembukaan. Kira kira ada dua ribu peserta konggres kali ini. Di Eropa biasanya pesertanya bisa mencapai hampir empat ribu orang. Mulai ketemu teman2 saat sarapan pagi. Cyrus Kumana, guru besar di University of Hongkong, komentar the hotel is not as grand as its name. Hotelnya memang sederhana walaupun katanya berbintang.

Saya memberikan ceramah tamu sesudah makan siang. Ada beberapa parallel sessions. Lumayan ada beberapa ratus peserta yang menghadiri kuliah saya “ Problems of drug utilization and the role of clinical pharmacology in developing countries”. Saya menggunakan transparan biasa yang dibuat dengan power point. Waktu itu saya lebih merasa yakin dengan transparan dibanding dengan slide. Saya bisa bicara bebas dan berjalan di muka audience dari lembar ke lembar transparan. Kuliah tamu berlangsung sukses.

Diakhiri dengan tepukan meriah. Tony Smith, guru besar dari Newcastle, Australia, dan banyak peserta ingin melanjutkan dengan diskusi, tetapi Ketua sidang tidak memberi kesempatan walau waktu masih tersisa kira15 menit. Saya lupa jika dalam forum kuliah tamu memang tidak ada acara tanya jawab dan diskusi.

Saya menemui ketua penyelenggara, Noberto Terragno, guru besar kepala di University of Buenos Aires. Saya menyampaikan duka sedalam dalamnya atas musibah yang menimpanya. Dia kehilangan anak lelakinya beberapa bulan sebelumnya dalam satu kecelakaan mobil. Saya membawa kenang kenangan ukiran perak. Tidak lupa memberi selamat dan terima kasih atas penyelenggaraan konggres. Dia mengundang saya ke acara sosial melihat tari Tango di hari ke tiga. Jika tak salah acara jamuan makan malam resmi di hari kedua. Kebiasaan seperti di Spanyol, makan malam baru mulai jam 22 30.

Konggres kali ini banyak dihadiri oleh peserta dari bidang ilmu lain, bukan hanya farmakolog. Saya berkenalan dengan seorang dokter dari La Platta yang kemudian cerita banyak mengenai tragedi kemanusiaan yang pernah mengkoyak negeri ini. Banyak anak muda atau mereka yang dicurigai golongan kiri hilang dibunuh militer. Dokter ini kehilangan adiknya yang baru berumur belasan tahun, diambil militer di satu dini hari dan tidak pernah ketahuan lagi dimana dia. Kepedihan yang sangat untuk keluarganya.

Ibu ibu yang kehilangan anaknya d tahun delapan puluhan tergabung dalam Ibu Ibu dari Plaza de Mayo. Mereka selalu berkumpul setiap Rabu siang kalau tidak salah di Plaza itu memperingati dan protes kehilangan putra putri mereka. Puluhan ribu anak2 muda telah hilang. Indonesia juga pernah mengalaminya di pertengahan tahun enam puluhan. Orang2 yang dicurigai komunis atau kiri di masukkan penjara atau di bunuh. Skala angka jauh lebih besar di Indonesia yang mencapai ratusan ribu.

Buenos Aires kota yang cantik dan megah. Plaza de le Republica, taman Recolleta, Plaza de Mayo dan lain lainnya, begitu menakjubkan. Namun juga menyisakan kesedihan tragedi kemanusiaan. Puisi ini saya untai sewaktu saya di sana.


ANAK-ANAK BANGSA DARI PLAZA DE MAYO

Anak-anak bangsa dari Plaza de Mayo
Semangat mereka menggelora menderu bagai prahara
Menggelegar membelah bumi, menembus langit menghentak dunia
Nyanyian-nyanyian kebebasan, nyanyian-nyanyian kebencian
Menatap peluru, menentang kekuasan

Anak-anak muda dari Plaza de Mayo
Teriak mereka bergema menggugah bukit-bukit sepi Patagonia
Membangunkan burung-burung kondor
Mengusik rusa dan llama di padang tundra
Menghimbau peradaban, menggugah keadilan
Bersenandung lagu-lagu cinta tanah tumpah darah
Suara pekak mereka adalah jerit kesedihan anak-anak bangsa.

Di depan mereka,
Hati yang mati, nurani yang membeku, tertutup nafsu terbuai kekuasaan
Mendengar adalah kekalahan, membunuh adalah kemenangan
Gelora kematian adalah irama tango yang mengasyikan
Jerit kesakitan, darah yang memerah adalah pertanda kegagahan

Rintihan pilu menyayat anak-anak muda yang tak berdosa
Angin dan hujan menangis tanpa bisa berbuat apa
Burung-burung flamingo terisak lirih
Bumi pedih terbasah darah dan air mata
Bisikan maut, pesta kematian menggema dari La Platta.

Tulang mereka berserakan
Hening, membisu beku jasad-jasad tak berdosa
Dalam haribaan bumi dan bukti-bukit batu
Bercampur pasir, berkalang tanah pertiwi
Tak ada yang tahu di mana mereka
Tiera del Fuego, La Pampa, Catamarca atau di mana

Dalam keheningan Plaza De Mayo
Ibu-ibu dengan selendang warna kelabu
Berbaris menangis memeluk gambar-gambar tanpa suara
Mencari jawaban kata-kata yang tak pernah ada
Menunggu setia anak-anak tercinta
Letih tanpa ujung, derita tanpa akhir
Penantian sia-sia

Anak-anak bangsa dari Plaza De Mayo
Tidak pernah mati sia-sia
Mereka gugur demi keadilan dan kebebasan
Anak-anak jaman, pahlawan kemanusiaan, pahlawan peradaban
Aku menunduk mengenang mereka.

(Budiono Santoso, Buenos Aires, 8 Agustus 1996)

10 comments:

Natasha said...

Dr Budi, Can you please your poem "Anak anak dari Plaza de Mayo" into English. I guess it is about the World Conference on Clinical Pharmacology and Therapeutics, that was held in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in 1996. Am I right? I know Prof Anthony Smith, Australia of whom name is appeared there. Best regards, Natasha.

Natasha said...

It is meant to ask if the poem can be translated into English. Thank you.

Ki Ageng Similikithi said...

Dear Natasha,
The title of the poem is Sons of Nation from Plaza de Mayo. A sad poem about the young people, thousands of them who were missing and killed by the military regime in the seventies. I met a colleague from La Plata whose younger brother was also missing. He was only 13 year old when he was abducted by some military men very early morning. He was screaming and crying calling his mom and father and his brother

Natasha said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Natasha said...

My apologies for my guess. It is a terrible story.

There is an association called
The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo (Spanish: Asociación Madres de Plaza de Mayo) that was formed by Argentine mothers whose children "disappeared" under the military dictatorship known as the Dirty War between 1976 and 1983. The 14 founders of the association started the demonstrations on the Plaza de Mayo, in front of the Casa Rosada presidential palace, on 30 April 1977. One of the founders, Villaflor, had been searching for one of her sons and her daughter-in-law for six months. She was taken to the ESMA concentration camp on 10 December 1977.

The military have admitted that over 9,000 of those kidnapped are still unaccounted for, but the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo say that the number is closer to 30,000. The numbers are hard to determine due to the secrecy surrounding the abductions. Three of the founders of the mothers of the Plaza de Mayo have also "disappeared". After the fall of the military regime, a civilian government commission put the number of disappeared at close to 11,000.

In January 2005 the body of French nun Leonie Duquet, a supporter of the organization, was exhumed, without an established identity. Duquet's disappearance had caused international outrage towards the Argentine military government. DNA tests concluded, on August 30 of that year, that the body exhumed in January was that of Duquet.

Azucena Villaflor's remains, together with those of two other pioneer Mothers, Esther Careaga and María Eugenia Bianco, were also identified by a forensics team in mid-2005. Villaflor's ashes were buried at the foot of the May Pyramid in the Plaza on 8 December 2005.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mothers_of_the_Plaza_de_Mayo

Natasha said...

Dr Budi, I was trying to attach some images of The Mothers but it didn't push through. Shall I send to your account. Natasha

Natasha said...

There is an organization called "The Grandmothers". The Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo (Spanish: Asociación Civil Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo) was founded in 1977 to locate children kidnapped during the repression and return them to their biological families. The work of the Grandmothers, assisted by scientist Mary-Claire King, has led to the identification of over 10 percent of the estimated 500 children kidnapped or born in detention during the military era.

It is interesting to know that The Grandmothers' work led to the creation of the Argentine Forensic Anthropology Team and the establishment of a National Genetic Data Bank.

Ki Ageng Similikithi said...

I watched a documentary few weeks ago, either in BBC or Aljazeera on related cases. It was estimated 500 babies were born from the girls who were abducted by the military. They were tortured and raped and became pregnant. There were evidence that most of these young ladies, after delivering their babis, they were executed. Only 85 babies are accounted for now. The others are still missing. Most of their mothers were missing. These babies are now in their late twenties.

andreas iswinarto said...

U2 dan Sting (juga Joan Baez) mendedikasikan satu karyanya untuk ibu-ibu plaza de mayo saya pikir juga semua ibu anak-anak yang dihilangkan di negeri ini


silah kunjung untuk link you tube konser kedua musisi dunia ini di argentina

http://lenteradiatasbukit.blogspot.com/2009/05/ibu-ibu-plaza-de-mayo-ibu-anak-anak.html

lirik dari U2 – Mothers of the Disappeared – Live Popmart Santiago 1998

Midnight, our sons and daughters
Were cut down and taken from us
Hear their heartbeat
We hear their heartbeat

In the wind, we hear their laughter
In the rain, we see their tears
Hear their heartbeat
We hear their heartbeat

Ooooh…

Night hangs like a prisoner
Stretched over black and blue
Hear their heartbeat
We hear their heartbeat

In the trees, our sons stand naked
Through the walls, our daughters cry
See their tears in the rainfall.

Sting w/ Peter Gabriel – They dance alone – Argentina ´88

Why are there women here dancing on their own?
Why is there this sadness in their eyes?
Why are the soldiers here
Their faces fixed like stone?
I can’t see what it is that they dispise
They’re dancing with the missing
They’re dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They’re dancing with their fathers
They’re dancing with their sons
They’re dancing with their husbands
They dance alone They dance alone

It’s the only form of protest they’re allowed
I’ve seen their silent faces scream so loud
If they were to speak these words they’d go missing too
Another woman on a torture table what else can they do
They’re dancing with the missing
They’re dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They’re dancing with their fathers
They’re dancing with their sons
They’re dancing with their husbands
They dance alone They dance alone

One day we’ll dance on their graves
One day we’ll sing our freedom
One day we’ll laugh in our joy
And we’ll dance
One day we’ll dance on their graves
One day we’ll sing our freedom
One day we’ll laugh in our joy
And we’ll dance

Ellas danzan con los desaparecidos
Ellas danzan con los muertos
Ellas danzan con amores invisibles
Ellas danzan con silenciosa angustia
Danzan con sus pardres
Danzan con sus hijos
Danzan con sus esposos
Ellas danzan solas
Danzan solas

Hey Mr. Pinochet
You’ve sown a bitter crop
It’s foreign money that supports you
One day the money’s going to stop
No wages for your torturers
No budget for your guns
Can you think of your own mother
Dancin’ with her invisible son
They’re dancing with the missing
They’re dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
They’re anguish is unsaid
They’re dancing with their fathers
They’re dancing with their sons
They’re dancing with their husbands
They dance alone They dance alone

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