After my grandmother’s death I begin to question our gender roles between her generation and mine. Reflections, voice notes and 8mm files of women from different times try to define what they were in their time and what we long for in ours.
After a fire destructed my house, I return to the places where I grew up looking for childhood recollections. In this journey appears the memory of a photo for Karin Eitel, a young woman, tortured and detained during the dictatorship, to whom I owe my name. A story that my parents never told me, brings me closer to Karin and not just because of my name. In the background, the memory of a childhood in Chile, a country that reconstructed its democracy omitting its own history.
