Many University students celebrate Thanksgiving with their families and come to expect the love and security they have known without ever questioning it.
Others, however, no longer have this luxury. Some people have no living family members. They have difficulty trusting people. They fear anyone who displays the slightest hint of authority. Many have experienced torture and rape. These are the survivors of the numerous military takeovers that took place in the mid-1970s in Central and South America.
“It’s not very easy to forget. It’s something that scars you for the rest of your life,” said Rogelio Salec of Guatemala.
Salec, 31, came to the United States and moved to Eugene after running from the government, which he says killed his brother-in-law and his cousin. He said that both were blacklisted — watched closely by the government — but had done nothing and were politically inactive.
“At one point, we had to sleep under trees and bushes,” he said, adding that he spent much of his time in such conditions until he found refuge in the United States.
Salec said that the transition from a life of fear to a brand new beginning was difficult and confusing. Many survivors like Salec feel alienated due to language and cultural barriers. The terrorist attacks on Sept. 11 also added an unexpected dimension to the transition many survivors were going through. Not only did these events take away from the security refugees thought they had in the United States, but the attacks happened on the date that Chile fell under autocratic rule in 1973.
Salec’s feelings of uncertainty and fear changed, however, when a close friend introduced him to the non-profit organization Amigos de los Sobrevivientes (Friends of the Survivors).
German Nieto-Maquehue, the executive director of Amigos, said that victims of war crimes remain traumatized long after conflicts cease and possibly for life. Amigos de los Sobrevivientes caters to any needs these victims might have. Established 10 years ago, the organization offers therapy, legal advice, financial counseling and more.
“Signing a peace treaty does not solve the problem,” said Nieto-Maquehue, referring to the aftermath of war crimes.
“We try to recreate the feeling of a family for those who no longer have one,” said Ruth Foreman, the organization’s clinical director.
Amigos de los Sobrevivientes is the only organization of its kind operating out of a residential location. The building is a two-story house where members can do anything from work in the garden to participate in weekly group therapy sessions. Foreman said the intent of such a setting is to allow participants to feel that they are in a community, not an institutional establishment.
“Everyone here has a voice,” Nieto-Maquehue said. “We are very alternatively organized. I may be the ‘executive director,’ but we make sure that decisions are made by everyone.”
The organization relies solely on volunteers, many of whom come from the University. Two weeks ago, students gathered in the EMU with Amigos members and helped set up an art gallery for El Día de los Muertos (The Day of the Dead). The holiday honors family members who have passed away in the Hispanic community, an important occasion for Amigos members who have had no closure for their past. Students come to the program to improve their Spanish, and in doing so end up helping a lot of people according to Nieto-Maquehue.
“They help us, and we help them,” Nieto-Maquehue said. “This is the beauty of reciprocity.”
Athanasios Fkiaras is a freelance reporter for the Emerald.