Tomb in Tierradentro 

Aug. 27, '96

In class and I have a few minutes to kill. Still must finish about Tierradentro. The pictures actually turned out real well. Incredible. I want to blow some of them up to hang. Yes, they're that good.

Bad news. Mario Thomas, a teacher here, committed suicide two days ago. He jumped off his penthouse balcony 17 stories to his death. Apparently he left a note and all. Calculated. I didn't know him real well, but I feel bad all the same. But, at the same time, strangely detatched. I said this over and over last night.

I'm sorry Mario. I hope you've found what you were looking for.

Aug 18, 1996

Greetings from Tierradentro. I mean Really adentro (inside) I'm inside Tomb S-12 at the Loma de Segovia. It's 6.10 metros deep. The feeling being in here is incredible. I dont' know if I can describe it. Almost like you're not on this planet. It's really as if you're in another world. The stairs down are incredible too. One column is broken, and you can only see the base. The other has black squares with red inside. Seven inches. All the nichos have the same face. #8 is supposedly twice this size. It's real damp in here. Not like a hot humid, but a cold humid. If that's possible. Think we're going up now. I'll definitely be waiting more about this later.

Aug 17, '96

It's 6:30 AM in Tierradentro (never was a place so aptly named). Saw two sites yesterday. Lots of walking (up and down mountains and all). More ont hat later. Alex and I are getting ready to go to El Aguacate which is another site. Around 30 tombs, we're told. On top of this huge fucking mountain. This is why, on vacation, we are up so early. Hopefully, we'll be there by 8. We'll see.

8:30 PM

Lots has happened. Right now, though, I'm high w/Alex and I'm getting my words for the day. Now in Spanish; on a door, it' s a "chapa"; on a frying pan, it's a "mango"; on a cooking pot, they're "orjeas"; and also oddly enough, it's an "orjea" on your coffee cup. Give up? It's a "handle" in English. One simple word. And they wonder why we find Spanish so hard.

Aug 15, '96

"I'm in Neiva." Alex said that. I believe her. We're on our way to Tierradentro, and are getting lunch, and waiting for the Colectivo to take us to La Plata. From there, we go to Tierradentro, but not until tomorrow morning. No idea what La Plata will be like, and we have lots more time there than we thought. More later. Lunch arrived.

Aug 5, 1996

News from the fiscalia. Cesar (the student in the wheelchair) spoke to Sandra (the other student) yesterday. She's the one that works in the medical part. According to her, they have it down as a suicide. She apparently shot herself on the right side of her head and it went out the other. They calculated the trajectory and all. But they're waiting for fingerprints and asking around. Fingerprints from what? I thought they didn't find a gun. None of this makes sense, and I don't know who or what to believe anymore. I should talk to Sandra tonight or tomorrow. Also, a man is apparently in custoduy. But, if he's in custody, why would it be called a suicide? Again, nothing makes sense anymore.

She also told Cesar to tell me that she was still alive when they brought her to Hospital Kennedy. I just asked him again and he said, "... habia llegado con vida" ... she arrived with life. I'm honestly in shock, that's the only word. I'm not telling this to Alex. Not yet. Not until I'm sure, and know how to handle this.

Aug 2, 1996

My student from the fiscalia hasn't returned to class, but Micahel talks to the police today. So we might know something. My hippie-chick neighbor used to investigate for the Fiscalia, I found out. So I'm going to talk to her, too. Have to find out.

Haz's mass was last night. Didn't go. Alex says Dona Elsa has asked about me a few more times. I should probably talk to her. didn't want to go to the mass. Didn't have time (left the studio at 5, rush hour -- the colectivo would've taken forever). Kinda woulda felt hypocritical, too. Not religious. I don't really pray. I don't know. Down here, they're into a huge acknowledgement of death, and I just kinda want time.

Michael is teaching the class right now. He's getting better, but needs to work on some stuff. He'll probably be OK, though. I hope so. One thing's for sure, he's definitely eager. He just told me I'm an excellent teacher, and he wants to pattern himself after me. That's a bit unnerving, but cool nonetheless. It's almost 7:45, class is ending. The page is ending, too. So this looks like as good a place as any to stop.

July 26, 1996

Today's Friday. It's been a few days since I last wrote. It's not for a lack of subjects, just a lack of motivation.

The funeral was on Tuesday, the 23rd. Didn't get to the funeral home until 8:30 or so. (I had to go to DAS in the morning and it took awhile). They closed the casket around 2:30 to bring her to the church. They had most of the people leave, while the family said Goodbye. Alex stayed. I gave Alex a picture of her and I in San Agustin, and wrote on the back, Haz, para que simpre estemos juntos. Te queremos and te extranamos. Alex said she put it over her heart. I'm glad she has it.

Then we went to the church. They took us in busetas. It was only a few blocks away. The service lasted for about 30 mins or so. Then we made teh 30-45 minute trip to the cemetery.

This is the part where I lost it. As they were carrying her in, they open the casket again to say Goodbye for the last time. Then, they put the casket in and buried her. With all of us there. Never seen anything like it in my life. I lost it. Alex was OK, until I did that. Shaking, crying, it was horrible. Thtat just demonstrated the finality of it. Then I just stared at her grave for awhile as the people slowly left. Quiet. Never seen 150 people (more or less, I swear she knew the entire city) so quiet. Said goodbye to her mom, Dona Elsa, and we left.

Something strange had happened with Dona Elsa these past few days. She knew who I was. She knew my name. I had only met her once. Alex says that Haz talked about me alot. That she loved me very much (Alex said, "Ella te queria mucho, Mark"). Makes me feel good, but it also makes it that much more difficult. So many things I wish I had said to her, and now I can't. So many regrets. I've done nothing but think abou ther since. I guess that's normal, though. I don't know.

Now, I'm sitting here, waiting for the play rehearsal. My mind is not on this at all. Black July. That's what this is.

Alex is going to the cemetery tomorrow. Her friend Richard's birthday is tomorrow. So she wants to visit him. And her Mom, and Haz. Says she wants to be with her now. I understand, but I don't know if I can do that right now. It's too soon, and I'm not sure I'm ready tfor that. Fuck, who knows? It still hasn't really hit me. I mean, I know it's happened and all, but I don't think the reality of it has hit me just yet. I'm sure it will, and I'm scared to death of when it does.

We still don't know the details of what happened. A student from 2-4 works in the medical part of the Fiscalia, and says she'll be able to say something today. I got the name of the girl who is supposedly in custody yesterday, and give it to her, too. That might help her give me more info, but probably not utnil next week. My team teacher, Michael, does classes with the police, and he's going to ask today, too. Again, I'll reiterate the fact tha tI never realized what a big deal it is to know the full story until it happened to me. I've just got to know. As terrible as it may be, but it'll give me (and everyone else involved) some closure. It's strange how that is. I hate to say it, but I never thought something like this would happen to me.

More importantly, I never thought anything like this could happen to Hazbleydy.

Wheeee ... time for rehearsal. Fuck.