Buenos Aires – Zwi Migdal

„Cementerio de la Amistad“

In 2009, shortly before flying over to my second home in Argentina, also home of my heart since 2002, I had read an article in a German newspaper about the search for this cemetery. I am curious for forbidden and hidden places and things to do, urban archaeology. So I immediately went for it. And I tell you one thing: it was not easy. But the more exciting.

Please have a read about what Zwi Migdal is or was, mainly in Buenos Aires, as well as in neighbouring countries’ cities. It was about pimps (some 500 in Argentina), brothels (2.000) and prostitutes (30.000) and no one wants to speak about it nowadays. That’s´ why it took me a good while to find this place.

So, I had a street name, but no full address. In Buenos Aires that can mean a 30 minute drive by car on a street with still the same name. As usually when I wanted to do something different, non of my Argentine friends nor my tourist friends wanted to accompany me. In the end, one friend came along (half way). The problem to us was that we needed to get through La Boca which is considered a dangerous area. So what we did was take the bus to the entrance to La Boca neighbourhood and the touristy Caminito street, and a cab from there.

To my luck the taxi driver’s wife was from the area we went to, so he knew his way around a bit. We got to the street I mentioned and he took us to a huge cemetery. No, that was not the one I meant. We went on, by now the taxi driver was curious too. I asked in a flower shop and in another flower shop. Noone knew where the cemetery of the Zwi Migdal pimps and prostitues was nor had ever heard of it – was the information we received.

Then, all by the sudden, I saw something! The Jewish star in a door! The information next to that closed door wasn´t readable as the star I looked through and into the graveyard was small. There was no bell outside. We had no clue if this was the place I was looking for.

(this is not a photo of the star I saw that guided me)

But we drove around it. There was an even less prominent door, but a bell. Noone opened. Then a car came by and a younger couple had also wanted to visit that cemetery. A man came by and told us it was always closed on Saturdays.
The taxi driver, now same eager to find out about this secret place, suggested I´d climb over the wall. Possible yes, but hey, I don´t want to be stuck inside a cemetery. Not to speak about that it is forbidden to do something like this. “The crazy German…” could see the local headline, la Alemana loca…

I could have gone back he next day! But my friend wanted to join me, was working all week, and so I made an appointment to call the taxi driver again in one week to go back. That day my friend was too tired to go and left me annoyed. It was my last day in town and I did definitely not want to miss this place.

The taxi driver and I met and drove back out to that door. It was open! I had bought flowers around the corner. Something stupid if you visit a Jewish cemetery, but I only realized that later, when they were handed back to me before I left.

So, I walked inside! Trying to be as unseen as possible. By then I had lived in Buenos Aires many times and was mostly seen and felt like a Portena. But this time I did feel like a stupid tourist. I saw a funeral and very slowly walked through the paths in a distance, looking at the graves and tombstones. I saw the huge wall inside the cemetery. Too huge to look over it. But then I found a door that was rotten and allowed a very small partial view inside. I couldn´t see much – but that was the place I had been searching for!!! I was so very excited, but was still afraid of being seen as  someone looking for something that no one should know about. A man walked by me, I said “hola” and asked him, what´s behind the door, as I was obviously interested in it. He said he doesn’t know.

Then I saw a wall inside the cemetery. Excitement!!! I found a door that was closed – and locked.

There was a tiny hole I could hold my camera through to take a photo and then look at my screen.

I have found it, I have found it. Wohoo. And I walked along that wall. It was a rectangular terrain walled off inside the manzana (block) of the cemetery that was surrounded by an even huger wall.

And then I couldn´t believe it: The short side of the wall was very low. I could perfectly see the Zwi Migdal cemetery, completely neglected and desolate.

Still, I felt intimidated and was afraid the caretakers nearby (where I stood now as very close to the cemetery entrance) would ask me to leave if they realize what I am interested in).

I could take a few photos and zoom in. This place had no entrance nor exit, the huge columns in marble still looked good, the smaller stones were fallen. I had read that when the population finally was against these people, they weren´t allowed to be buried in the city anymore, so this must be an earlier graveyard for Zwi Migdal.

I was stunned by my finding, a hidden treasure for me. Urban Archaeology at it´s best.
It was possible to zoom into a few of my photos and read 1-2 names. German language names but people from Warschau (German for the Polish capital). I was so afraid I could be seen that I took all photos just very quickly and not taking care of what was visible later, unfortunately.

Before I left, I placed the flowers on a nearby box and had a look around the entrance, now not being afraid anymore to maybe spotted as a tourist. I was still curious, so I asked the young caretaker about that cornered off graveyard.

Que es? (What is it?)
Esta cerrado (It is closed) – obviously, I can see that
Como se llama esta parte (What´s the name for that part) – Here I was calling for trouble
Cementerio de la Amistad (Cemetery of the Friendship) – Sure, the new name since exactly now
No eres de la comunidad? (You aren´t from the community) – Oh!
No – and I left quickly

He gave my my flowers back.

When I told my Feldenkrais teacher about my discovery, she told me a story from her father who lived during this time. By then the Zwi Migdal was not liked by the general public anymore. The pimps were taking their 13 year old girls from Poland into the theater. People like her father bought rotten tomatoes and threw them from the balcony.

Three years later I came by with my curious cousin who is the first one liking all my city adventures, and we discovered an amazing “Lost Space” together that now is destroyed ¹.
But for some reason the door was closed and we could not get in again.