The Wounded Place

I was born and raised in Rosario, Argentina. At the age of 22 I emigrated for the first time.

The most beautiful memories of my childhood and -early- youth are intrinsically related to the Paraná River and its islands. Memories of my mom taking me to the beach; my dad teaching me how to fish mojarras, teaching me how to camp in the islands, back in the mid-90s, when there was nothing there, no inns or bars, just nature, that was all. When I think of Rosario I think of the color of the river.

As I grew older, my friends and I started going to the river without adults. At the age of 11, we went camping on the islands for the first time. At night we heard wild boars and a torrential deluge that filled us with fear and adrenaline. The next morning, the sun, and the river, always the river.

January 2022, Amsterdam:

Winters in the Netherlands are harsh, -especially during pandemics- temperatures below zero, a lot of rain and everything closed. But the worst thing is the lack of sun. Unlike in Rosario, the sun is scarce.

To combat the cold I want to make a lentil stew. Before I start cooking, I look for a podcast to listen to. I see that my favourite show has new episodes, a trilogy about the arsons on the islands -my islands-, I have no second thoughts and I play it.

The podcast explains that the fires are related to the cultivation of soybeans and livestock. The flames devastated hundreds of species of flora and fauna and passed through more than 700 thousand hectares. Added to this, is the historic downspout of the river. Lagoons and streams that acted as firebreaks are no longer there. The river is drying up. Those childhood memories come to me, suddenly I get very sad.

During the second episode, a scientist begins to speak. Her voice is familiar to me, it's Graciela, a dear friend with whom I haven't spoken for years. Suddenly I get emotional. Maybe it's the distance, maybe it's the burned islands, maybe it's a loved one who studies and defends my beloved river... A tear runs down my cheek and I send a voice message to my friend:

–Hello Graciela, this is Guillermo España speaking, how have you been doing? So, I was listening to a podcast about the fires on the islands and suddenly you appeared! I almost died of excitement! So, I am still in Amsterdam and just a few months ago I thought that I would love to be in Rosario and make a photographic record… Well, nothing… I congratulate you and send you a huge hug– She answers right away:

-Dear Guille! (with an accent from the province of Misiones) How are you? Long time no see! What a joy to hear from you! Thank you very much for the congratulations, it was all very crazy, I was never the one who talks to the press or to the public haha. The truth is that things are very bad here, the fires, the downspout… Oh, how nice it would be if you came to take photos! I can take you to the places that caught fire and contact you with many people who are on the subject; what a pity that you’re far away!– I hear that she is also emotional.

When speaking about writing, Donna Haraway says in an interview that "you have to go to the wounded places", but not to highlight the ruined, but to generate change, to be able to heal. When I finish talking to Graciela, anxiety invades me; I want to be there, I want to see and tell what happened to the islands, to my river.

The next day one of my best friends in Rosario turns 40, and hours after talking to him, his old man dies. I send a voice message to Graciela.

-How are you Grace? I have a question for you, are you going to be in Rosario in about 2 weeks?-

-Hi Guille! Yes, I'll be here, why? –She answers me. I have no second thoughts and I book my plane ticket-.