Her husband was killed in an attack on the Israeli embassy and demanded justice. “I will die and I will continue to cry”

Nelly Durán Ganotti (Nelly Durán Ganotti) lives in PH, a long corridor in Floresta, and leaves a bochin bringing a city fair to the square of another block. It's a sunny Saturday and walks with a cane because of osteoarthritis claiming to progress.At first, the pain was lumbar and spread to the legs and knees. I was sick for a while, but this week I got sick more. I was a 17th-century philosopher Baruch Spinoza (Baruch Spinoza) “No one knows what the body can do.”

“Thirty years have passed, and I didn't know until now. I started to feel overwhelmed and tired of what was going on. I moved forward when I was young. Now that I am older, I no longer have much work or boy rhythm, so I am considering everything I have ever lived. I can't control it when the anniversary of the attack approaches. I'm dead. Will I continue to cry? ”

Mourn for the missing loved one who was briefly kidnapped. To cry for everything that could not be so: cut off dreams, illusions.And at the same time for what it was: for a battle that happened and could not be abandoned... Until there is a definition.

“I cry for Miguel, but above all I cry about the work I've been through, the struggles, and everything we have to go through. How do I live 30 years like that, right?”

Nelly married Miguel Lancieri, one of the 22 people who died in an attack on Israel on March 17, 1992. Embassy in Buenos Aires. Miguel installed air conditioning and the embassy at the time of the explosion. I tried to install it in the building next door.

“The installation was scheduled for the day before, but Miguel woke up with a sore throat and passed on Tuesday the 17th. Miguel used to drive a van, but he was in a bad mood at noon that day, so he drove his partner, put tools on the door of the building, and kept looking for a place to park. I heard that Miguel came to ring the doorbell. The explosion was 14.50, and his partner, Fabian, saw everything through the rearview mirror.”

Nelly was a widow and was in charge of four children. The oldest was 16 years old, the youngest was 2 years old and 10 months old. In the middle there are twins aged 13 years.

“We started reviewing the list of hospitals until the police station told me that Miguel was in the morgue and needed to know him.I wanted to go in, but I kept Fabian and my cousin waiting outside. At that time, I thought they were lucky because they didn't see me... How did you still live with that image?”

Nelly shakes again, gets dizzy when she remembers the night, comes home, and the boys feel that they are waiting for news from their dad in the yard.

“I had to tell him that my father was dead. Then he hit me like a seizure and began to scream. I couldn't eat for a week. He lived drinking tea.”

No one knows what the body can do, what we can do, or the perseverance we breathe obeys.

“We buried him on Thursday and we never stopped. I didn't even know how to get on the bus. Until then, if I had to go to the doctor, my husband would take me. She was a typical housewife in charge of the boys. But I had to learn. I received a scholarship from school and prevented me from paying for my eldest son's English study anymore. I cleaned up the church, cared for the elderly on the night when I was able to leave my youngest son with my mom.People also helped me a lot. Some of the neighbors or mothers of my children's classmates sent me a prize box to accompany social development or ask for help in any organization, and even raised money to pay the rent. I remembered that I gave a lot of chocolate eggs on my first Easter without Miguel.. And the cadet contains $1000 I came to my house with an envelope. I was the wife of one of the owners of the newspaper La Nación, who knew Miguel because he had an air conditioner installed in the office. On the envelope there was a letter to remember him because he was 'a gift from people and a good person'.”

Nelly searched the directory for addresses and sent letters to Mariano Grondonna, Mauro Viale, and Carlos Menem to Casa Rosada. She blamed everyone who asked for help in the profession and promised something that was not fulfilled. Her story reached Acción Social and she began receiving donation pensions.At the same time, she was summoned to the Ministry of Justice.

“Since we are Uruguayan, my mother was scared because she thought we would be kicked out of the country because of the letter. But I went to the meeting in the same way. Jorge Luis Maiorano, who was the Minister of Justice, welcomed me and offered to work in the press area of the Ministry of Education. From there, life stabilized a little.”

sport, sport, sports

“My husband was a generous and good-natured person. If he had little work, he organized a barbecue or invited one or the other. He said that he was' chasing '. And sometimes he came back early after work and said, 'I'm going to ruin the goalkeepers for a while,' and he was very kind. My house was constantly full of people and complained. But I tried to keep the house open. I think I want to maintain Michael's spirit. He has always been, he is still there and will continue to be.”

Miguel, a native of Lorenzo Geires, a municipality in Uruguay, recently settled in the neighborhood of Villa Crespo in Buenos Aires with his girlfriend Nelly's family. There is also Uruguay, but he is from Paysandu. They were in the last month of 1973, and the local dictatorship expelled them.

“My mom, dad, sister, and Miguel came to Buenos Aires, but I stayed in Uruguay for another year to finish my education school.In one of them, I offered Miguel to marry me. I was 18 years old and he was 26 years old. My mother-in-law gave me the fabric for the dress and one of my brother-in-law left his house when Miguel was able to visit me. We bought a bed, a wardrobe and a stand at auction. We got married in his village, in the countryside, and in a very old parents' house. After a month of rain, we hung tarps and eventually piled up in the gallery.Relatives arrived in combi and motorcycles. It's muddy. It was like Louise Landrysina's marriage, but it was so cute. I was very happy.”

Nelly tells us that pipiretto moves through her eyes, causing anecdotes. Moments that seem to have happened in another universe that is too far away.

“When I killed my youngest son, Mauro Miguel, he didn't want to get away from me. I was afraid that something would happen to me.My dad started drinking. Miguel gave up on himself because he was a son he didn't have.He was no longer my dad. I had to fight for the boys and stop drinking my dad.”

It's the same for 30 years.

The investigation into the attack that destroyed the headquarters of the Israeli embassy in Buenos Aires, which killed 22 people and injured more than 240 people in 30 years, is still open in the Argentine Ministry of Justice. Since it was an attack on foreign diplomatic delegations, it was in charge of the Supreme Court from the beginning, and in 1999 it proved the responsibility of a terrorist group known as Islamic Jihad, the armed wing of Hezbollah. An international arrest warrant was enforced, but none of the suspects were arrested.

A question that spans 30 years. Immersing an idea as if it were a crazy endless repetition.

“I'm always curious why I don't have enough research for 30 years. I don't know if the Supreme Court doesn't work, if it's careless, doesn't care, or if there's anything that tells me not to investigate.The court is a great absentee. But I still have hope, and I think I can achieve things; although I am dying like Menem; there is still a police officer who was not where the Minister of Justice, the Minister of the Interior, the Chief of the Police, the Police Chief, the police were not where they should be; I mean, if you want... But who doesn't want to? Who is responsible? We live with thorns and we get nailed more and more every year. I think the pain will be a little less when we see someone trying something or moving.”

With a half-smile, Nelly recalls the first hypothesis. Innocence that they began to have nightmares.

“When I was 13, Gisela, one of my daughters, said, 'Mom, luckily I was at the embassy, and I'm sure they're going to take a quick look, 'and it was actually the other way around. Since it was in the Israeli embassy, nothing was investigated. And I don't care if it's Iran or terrorism... What I'm saying is that after 30 years there is no justice and no political leaders have been identified.And here it is. Unfortunately, former Secretary Germán Garavano said that Argentina was not prepared for the attack and had no means to investigate. What do you say to families and survivors? What does it mean? You're never going to investigate because you're not ready? Ask for help! To the United States, Israel, to anyone other than investigations.For 30 years, various governments have passed, and everyone lied to us and made promises to us, but there was nothing.”

On March 17, the event was held at Marne Square on Arroyo Street, where the diplomatic headquarters was located.

“The act of attack is organized by the Embassy of Israel. Survivors and relatives of the victims were considered and always called to meetings with ambassadors. But you can do as the embassy plans. This year they said that there will be an event at Teatro Colón, and the wife of the victims of Israel (they will give a speech in Hebrew because they do not know Spanish), the Israeli Deputy Minister of Justice (in English because they do not even deal with Spanish), and the ambassador will speak. There is no other.So we who waited 30 years for that day to come in Argentina will not be able to say anything.”

The importance of being able to speak. To heal for a while with words.Even if they are tired of saying things. As Alfonsina Storni wrote, “Old words are new.”

“I don't know if I'm 30 years old, but I don't know if it's the fatigue I notice in myself and other colleagues, but anger comes out. It's anger, impotence, pain. It's because I feel lonely. And we also know that we were functional in politics, and not because we didn't realize it, but because it's all we left behind. On the anniversary of the attack, you can go to the event to see the face and name the dead. While politicians and officials in front of the bench fight on one side and fight to take pictures on the other, we stand aside as guests as if they were in favor of attending. We will not talk about it anymore this time. Of course, we could not lend ourselves and could not go, but I think it will contribute to keeping us out of sight anymore.”

Nelly looks down and cries slowly, with little noise. There is anguish in her throat.We joined our hands.We cried together.

“I don't know what needs to happen to understand that it's the one who died and killed it, and that's unfair.”

It's been unfair for 30 years.

Keep reading: