The eyes of revolt. Objects, images and rebellions of memory
Within the "Latin American Critical Thought Notebooks" Collection, CLACSO presents "The Eyes of Revolt: Objects, Images, and Rebellions of Memory," coordinated by Clarisa López Galarza – Authors: Cecilia Lacruz, Andrea Forero Hurtado, Júlia Zuza, Natalia Aguerre, Clarisa López Galarza
The eyes of revolt. Objects, images and rebellions of memory
Coordination: Clarisa López Galarza
Authors: Cecilia Lacruz, Andrea Forero Hurtado,
Júlia Zuza, Natalia Aguerre, Clarisa López Galarza[1]
From June 9 to 12, 2025, the 10th Latin American and Caribbean Conference on Social Sciences took place in Bogotá, where our Working Group on Arts and Politics presented a series of activities centered around the presentation and discussion of artistic works by social collectives. These included testimonies from victims of the conflict in Colombia compiled by the Truth Commission; experiences of intervention in territories through the arts from the National University of the Arts (Argentina); a panel discussion with rap/hip hop activists from Honduras, Colombia, and Mexico who discussed territorial issues and how to construct their narratives from a Latin American and Caribbean perspective; and an exhibition and discussion on urban art by the collective “Gráfica Dexpierte.” A series of meetings with researchers and artists were also held to discuss the imaginative expressions of the struggles, sensibilities, and, above all, the collective memory that Latin America and the Caribbean are building in these contexts of resistance against right-wing policies and administrations implemented in the countries of our region.
To revive and expand these debates, we present this collaboratively written document, which gathers experiences that connect diverse artistic languages and media, as well as different geographies. Through a range of experiences from Latin America and the Caribbean, we will focus on practices that not only address these issues as a subject of study, but also imagine and explore new ways of inhabiting the present and its relationship to history.
This set of interdisciplinary processes intersects political and poetic practices, seeking to problematize and modify the local state of affairs. Through archival fictions, interventions in public space, and performance and audiovisual practices, they emerge as new forms of socialization among subjects, experimenting with new modes of connection and collaboration (Laddaga, 2010). From a perspective that dissociates artistic practices from the production of objects and from operations inherited from modernity, they work with the production of images, events, and experiences as a substrate from which to reorganize interpersonal relationships, based on dynamics that value other modes and devices for narrating history in Latin America. We highlight their collectivizing features, insofar as they propose the construction of modes of social life that, starting from a certain state of affairs, pave the way for experimental communities in which to explore the complexities of social life in the present.
Uruguayan cinema and the daily struggles of people experiencing homelessness
In Uruguay, in a context where the media routinely addresses the plight of people experiencing homelessness, it becomes pertinent to examine new representations of the homeless population, as these shape a repertoire of shared perceptions that nourish the social imagination. Such is the case of the film * Señor, si usted existe, por qué no me saca de este infierno * (2024), directed by Jorge Fierro, which tells, in the traditional style of cinéma vérité, the story of Juan “Chacho” Correa, a man living in a shelter whose life improves after the state assigns him a container home. Chacho is Afro-Uruguayan and, among other things, plays in a candombe group. He gets the job he longed for, but is later fired. From time to time, he struggles with drug use.
The director and Chacho met in 2015 at the film workshops for homeless people that Fierro led at the Urban Cultural Center (Lacruz, 2025). In each workshop session, a story created and acted by the participants was filmed. Although Chacho was very shy at first, he soon became an active and beloved member. From the opening credits, Señor… refers to this creative experience in an affectionate and conspiratorial way. Chacho introduces Fierro to his friends as “my film teacher, Jorgito.” While the production team sets up a television in the street to show the short films starring Chacho, someone jokes, “From here to Hollywood.” Like a playful prologue that foreshadows the multifaceted nature of the character, his friends celebrate his performances in a communal atmosphere.
Chacho is also an activist with Ni Todo Está Perdido (Not All Is Lost), Nitep, a collective formed in 2018 that fights for the rights of people experiencing homelessness. While not the central focus of the film's narrative, her activism is integrated into her daily life. In fact, both the recurring film workshop storyline and her political activism, among other things, create a strong counterpoint to the narrative that reduces the lives of homeless people to mere survival or to images centered on victimization.
The first scene introducing the collective depicts a meeting. Rubí, Chacho's friend, speaks up: “Today, I, a woman, instead of urinating behind a palm tree, a car, or going to the waterfront, have a public restroom that I didn't have before, because even McDonald's closed the door on me (…) That's a reality I experienced, and it's part of the work done by the Nitep Collective, which is why I have this benefit today.” The sequence continues with the participants coming and going, talking in a somewhat disorganized fashion. Later, in another nighttime scene, Chacho and Rubí take the stage representing Nitep. Again, Rubí, microphone in hand, addresses those present: “Ni Todo Está Perdido (Not All Is Lost) is a collective that fights for people experiencing homelessness: for their rights, for finding work, for daily food, and for shelter (…) Wherever you see people sleeping on the street, there's a collective fighting for them.” At the end of the sequence, when Chacho and Rubí return to the container homes, the film illustrates their camaraderie with fragments of the short films made in the Film Workshop, where, on more than one occasion, they portray a romantic relationship. Like the relationship between Fierro and Chacho that opens the film, these references to imagined stories highlight the dynamics of the Workshop and, through it, those of cultural spaces conceived as environments for concrete and lasting connections. In this overlap of the affective and the political, the film reveals that Chacho's activism is also nourished by networks of care and creative experiences that give meaning to the everyday.
In one scene, the group organizes to go out and demonstrate. A flyer reads: “Day of the Struggles of People Experiencing Homelessness. August 19th, Not One More Death on the Street!” Chacho speaks up to point out that on that day “we’re going to be saying what we need to say, our rights, the rights of people experiencing homelessness.” A young woman reads the statement that will be made at the protest. Her voiceover continues over the image of Chacho, now asleep on a bus with his head resting against the window.
As a collective, we have managed to organize ourselves, produce, generate work, denounce our situations, mobilize, and make our voices heard in the media and at working groups with state authorities. (…) We need a society that shows compassion towards others. That is why we continue fighting, with our stomachs rumbling from insufficient food, for our rights, together, because collective struggle has power. (…)
Both the weariness and the melancholy that the journey evokes strain against the militant spirit of the proclamation, creating an ambiguous feeling, as if Chacho's perspective were constructing a complex, perhaps uncertain, meaning regarding that political "we." Between the epic of the struggle and the intimacy of exhaustion, the film portrays how activism doesn't erase the fragility of the lives that sustain it. In the scene following Chacho on the bus, the female voice we heard blends with that of a young woman who, now in the plaza, reads the final lines of the proclamation through a megaphone. The atmosphere becomes a celebration with the street performance by workshop participants (from dance, choir, and theater) who join the demonstration. Suddenly, in the middle of an artistic performance, Chacho sees himself in a mirror, and the scene falls silent. The absence of sound inserts an unexpected moment of intimacy, an introspective pause amidst the collective effervescence that, with its uncertainty, curbs a romantic view of politics.
The film raises questions about emerging activism surrounding homelessness and invites us to consider these narratives in dialogue with other regional contexts, recognizing similarities, differences, and shared horizons of representation. In the Uruguayan case, Nitep has communicated its demands through media, social networks, and its YouTube channel, where short films and testimonials circulate (Aguiar et al., 2022). These productions have introduced novel forms of representation compared to the traditional approach to homelessness. Within this framework, Señor… complicates the image of this activism by not portraying it as a permanent state of heroism, but rather as a process marked by vulnerabilities and contradictions that also shape collective political action.
Collective Memory in Community Theatre Narratives
Community theater [2] in Colombia has established itself as a crucial element in the reconstruction of social memory and cultural transformation in territories affected by poverty, violence, and exclusion. This practice is based on the active participation of community members, who create narratives that reflect their experiences and strengthen their identity, transforming them into theatrical works that they often perform themselves.
These impactful narratives are fundamental because of their power to inspire and mobilize. They are characterized by active participation and collective creation, as Augusto Boal (1974) points out, and by reflecting reality and giving voice to marginalized communities, as Paulo Freire (1970) indicates. Community theater employs mechanisms for the recovery and reconstruction of collective memory, such as the following:
- Recovery and interpretation of the past:
The creative process of theater serves to unearth and reinterpret memories historically silenced or rendered invisible in official narratives. By presenting these experiences from the living perspective of those who lived them, theater activates collective memory, giving it voice and meaning. This recovery is not a documentary exercise, but a symbolic reconstruction that generates impactful narratives that provoke emotions, reflections, and actions, reaffirming the importance of preserving and valuing community memory (Fisher, 1984). This is what the Mojiganga Collective (Quibdó-Chocó) [3] does , for example, by creating productions based on direct accounts from victims of the conflict. These productions not only recall the painful past, but also encourage resilience and the imagining of future horizons based on reparation and justice.
- Collective creation and generational dialogue:
Through collaborative dramaturgy, theater creates vibrant spaces for encounter where different generations exchange memories, reinterpret their history, and consolidate a collective fabric of memory. This dialogue ensures that foundational events and past wounds are not forgotten, keeping the community's historical memory alive. Active participation, a key point highlighted by Boal (1974), transforms the community into the protagonist of its own narrative, strengthening the recognition of its identity and the transmission of its memory over time. An example of this is the El Totumo Encantado group (Necoclí-Antioquia) [4] , which conducts research with older adults and intergenerational transmission, guaranteeing the rigor and authenticity of its productions.
- Community theatre training:
Training plays a fundamental role not only in the constant renewal of the repertoire, but also in the continuity and sustainability of community processes (Idartes en Casa, 2015). Community training programs, especially in low-income neighborhoods and vulnerable territories, become what could be called schools of collective memory , where communities not only learn performance techniques, but also tools to express their histories, pain, and hopes. In marginalized urban neighborhoods or rural communities, groups like Teatro Esquina Latina [5] (Cali-Valle) have developed pedagogical processes that promote popular education, the development of life projects, and the holistic development of young people in adverse contexts.
- The circulation of groups:
Festivals and gatherings are fundamental for preserving collective memory, allowing the stories of vulnerable communities to be shared and exchanged. They preserve and reinterpret historical memories, activating collective memory and emotional identification. Furthermore, these gatherings foster participation and visibility, motivating communities to tell their stories. This is exemplified by the Colombian Network of Community Theater, which demonstrates an intergroup collaboration that promotes exchange, collective reflection, and even influences public policy.
- Linkage with social processes:
The staging and visibility of issues in Community Theater not only recover memories but also foster citizen participation and collective empowerment. In this sense, impactful narratives fulfill a dual role: in addition to preserving historical memory, they are instruments for mobilizing communities toward social action and political organization. Marshall Ganz (2009) emphasizes that these narratives inspire and motivate, ensuring that memory does not remain static but becomes a driving force for social transformation and the construction of possible futures.
Thus, these mechanisms, in addition to rescuing memory, configure it into a dynamic, participatory and transformative resource that strengthens identities and promotes social changes, inspiring communities to participate in building a better future.
Community Theatre works are therefore living archives that, through participation and collective creation, preserve memories threatened by violence and contribute to the production of meaning, critical reflection and questioning of power structures, thus allowing communities to narrate their stories, reflect on their past and project a better future.
The archive, memory and the fight against barbarism
Rereading official archives not only allows us to look at the past, but also to strengthen our commitment to a more democratic future. In Latin American countries with a strong colonial past, institutional images reveal their racist bias against Black and Indigenous people. If the archive is a device of power, since “the archive is not a collection of data, but a status” (Mbembe, 2002), what can we do about it?
Visual artists interrogate archives using strategies such as critical fabrication (Hartman, 2020), which tests the limits of the archive itself. Examples include the Brazilian artists Aline Motta and Rosana Paulino, two Black women who combine family and official archives to discuss the consequences of racism and slavery in society. In this way, we see that the archive is neither static nor fixed and can be reinterpreted according to the nuances of different erasures; a way to challenge the erasures of history.
I begin with the works of visual artist Aline Motta (Niterói, 1974), an artist who works with several languages and is developing a trilogy about her own family's Black diaspora. In the work Pontes sobre abismos [Bridges Over Abysses] (2017), we see a video installation triggered by a family secret, as Motta narrates in the work. The grandmother reveals to her granddaughter, the artist in question, that she had never met her father, who was the white son of her mother's employers—Aline Motta's Black great-grandmother. From this starting point, the artist imagines, recreates, and fabricates her family's origins, tracing a map that encompasses Rio de Janeiro, Portugal, and Sierra Leone.
The work features several printed photographs of the artist's family members, with a particular focus on her grandmothers, floating on fabric in a generational encounter: we see the image of Motta's grandmother and herself bathing in the waters of Sierra Leone, their ancestral homeland. This gesture suggests the possibility of connecting lost, murdered, or silenced people and memories within the diaspora, a theme Motta explores by casting images of her family onto the water. It represents something so common among the Afro-Brazilian population, a group that for centuries has resisted the constant threat to its history.
Following the theme of revisiting family archives, we arrive at the artist and researcher Rosana Paulino (São Paulo, 1967), who develops her work using techniques such as collage and sewing, applying them to debates about the colonial legacy in contemporary experience. I will briefly discuss her work Parede da memória (Wall of Memory) (1994/2015). Composed of 11 mini-portraits of her family, the images are printed on fabric and sewn together as small cushions. Originally in black and white, some of the photos were later colored and recombined in different ways, in addition to varying the size of the panel, which consists of 1500 photographs. Every detail of each portrait is visible, allowing one to imagine the story of each person portrayed.
The small cushions on which the photographs are printed are shaped like patuás, which are good luck charms in Candomblé and Umbanda. Paulino makes us think that his personal story in the 11 portraits and 1500 images that refer to a collective memory are elements that guide and protect us; each life lost on the slave ship, each enslaved person of the diaspora who managed to survive, each Black person who currently resists institutional violence can be considered a sign of good fortune.
The recreation of personal archives in the works of Motta and Paulino approaches critical fabulation, understood by Sayidia Hartman (2020) as the attempt to develop an imaginative reconstruction of experiences erased or manipulated by official records. More than an aesthetic strategy, critical fabulation can be considered a tool against the systematic erasure of populations, such as Afro-diasporic and Indigenous communities. The artists do not undertake an exercise in recovering and recreating their origins, lost due to slavery, but rather they rethink them; they create fabulations based on their own genealogy and family archives, attempting to trace points of connection within the Black diaspora.
The visual metaphors created by Motta and Paulino reveal how hegemonic history can obscure so many other experiences, often subjugated by highly oppressive structures, such as the colonial and racial issues in Brazil. Their works possess a dual nature, existing on the border between historical record, compiled from an archive, and creation, evident in the visual mechanisms they employ (photographs, textiles). Thus, the two artists highlight the hierarchy of archives and point to diverse possible avenues of critique, raising public awareness of issues that remain relevant in Latin America.
Colectivo las Hartas: a “witness” look through three projects of armed “skins”
This study examines the artivist performance practices of the Las Hartas Collective through the use of the metaphor of the “armed body” as a poetic-political strategy in three projects: Mujeres Armadas (2020), Tras el rastro de la Pancha (2021), and La Santa Luchona: matrona de las que luchamos en las calles (2022). The term “skin” is used as a fundamental symbolic embodiment for generating counter-archives. These counter-archives allow for the development of alternative narratives to the original archives, presenting the images and actions produced in each performance as a possible response to gender violence and the invisibility of women in “official” narratives.
I
The Las Hartas Collective is a Costa Rican feminist artivism and artistic research group comprised of Micaela Canales Barquero, Andrea Gómez Jiménez, Grettel Méndez Ramírez, and Mariela Richmond Vargas. Our experience working together in the performing arts allowed us to discover shared interests, coupled with our inclination towards political, feminist, and street performance.
Three of the most significant “skins” [6] we have inhabited have been: Armed Women, the Panchas , and the Luchonas. Through them, we have carried out street actions during the marches of International Women's Day (8M) and the Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women (25N), between 2020 and 2025. As well as participation in social protests such as the Great National March [7] (2023) during the current government of Rodrigo Chaves.
For Mujeres Armadas (Armed Women ), we took as a reference point the research that Mariela Richmond had been developing on weapons as symbolic objects, which in turn invited us to explore some of the implications of her work. We created a “small army” of four armed women in the street during the March 8th march (2020). The concept of “skin” arises from the reinterpretation of national imaginaries, specifically regarding how the “peasant” woman has been represented in folklore. We created a collective image using traditional clothing, but armed with rifles, wristbands, leather boots, and combative gestures. With this image, we participated in two group exhibitions, Recontarnos (2020) [8] and Rewriting us (2022), featuring an archival photograph taken by Karla Orozco [9] . These exhibitions were curated by the Guatemalan feminist collective La Revuelta.
In 2021, we received an invitation from curator Maya Juracán to explore the historical figure of Francisca Carrasco Jiménez, known as Pancha Carrasco , a heroine of the nation and a heroine of the 1856-57 national campaign. From this artistic research emerged the project: Following Pancha's Trail , as part of the exhibition: Emancipated and Emancipators: the women of Central American independence [10] , alongside other Central American artists who, in turn, explored other historical women, within the framework of the Bicentennial celebration.
Our proposal included a series of seven photo performances, an audio piece—the Pancha corrido - slam —and an object installation. Our strategy was to generate an alternative visual narrative by activating historical archives and images, as well as working with spaces linked to the heroine, through parodic strategies and exercises in fabulation, where we allowed ourselves to tell her story as we would have liked it to be told.
As in Armed Women , we presented a group of four Armed Panchas , which translates into collective scenes, such as: the four heroines, the collective decoration based on the medal that appears in her most famous portrait, painted by Manuel Zuniga, as an exercise in recognition among women. Also included were some iconic scenes such as: the taking of the cannon , and the throwing of the stone . Other images formed a critical dialogue based on situations of violence she suffered, as well as the poverty in which she lived in her final years, alluding to the meager and belated pension she received.
Finally, with the “skin” of the Luchonas , we embodied the image of four female boxers, wearing boxing attire, placed in a new ring: the street. We participated in an artistic residency at Satisfactory [11] , managed by Erika Martin. For a month, we reviewed part of our collective archives, which allowed us to identify some key areas of action we had been working on. Through explorations with some archival objects (“relics”) of the Luchona skin , the figure of La Santa Luchona “appeared” to me for the first time , represented in our “image and likeness,” with a red robe, gloves, braided hair, and boots. A syncretic, popular, and feminist saint, who unites our struggle in the streets and in everyday spaces.
Around this figure, we generated the project of La Santa Luchona: matron of those who fight in the streets, with which we participated in the MADC [12] between October and November 2022. We proposed an installation and performance piece. Among the most significant actions, for the closing of the expo, we carried out an open performance during the 25N march, which we called Carnival Procession of La Santa Luchona , where we carried the saint on a litter with the collaboration of 40 women and three collectives of women musicians [13].
Both Santa Luchona in her installation proposal and Pancha have been reactivated in 2025, as part of a collective exhibition called: We are seas, rivers, flowers, minerals, volcanoes, mountains and compost, curated by Maya Juracán, Emilia Yang and Ana Laguna, managed by the UNFES collective [14] , which is a group of Central American artists, in production with the MADC-CR.
II
Women's bodies constitute one of our arenas of struggle. Faced with the perception of insecurity, the rise in femicides, and the systematic violence against women's bodies, the metaphor of the "armed body" remains a powerful image of resistance and a form of symbolic, poetic, and political representation.
From our practice, we have generated a series of moving images and actions that seek to avoid glorifying violence through the (re)presentation of a body carrying a weapon. As Natalia Solano Meza states regarding Armed Women : “they seem to actually operate, or want to operate, as a counter-response to violence, specifically gender violence. This seems very interesting, as it suggests the existence of many layers of meaning” (Solano, Meza, 2020).
In this exercise of alternative representation, we do not intend to present verbatim quotes from the original archives, from which we generate these images of “armed bodies” in our performances. Our interest is not in working with the idea of a “historical truth,” but rather in establishing critical narratives that engage with our present through the activation of archives, whether by creating versions, parodies, counter-archives, resignifications, etc. As Antivilo Peña (2015) argues, the reactivation of archives in the work of feminist artists and artivists is not only about rescuing old documents, but about making them productive through different means, generating new resignifications that engage with the present.
We conclude this brief journey by expressing our gratitude and acknowledging that this embodied writing is thanks to the collaborative work with my sisters, Las Hartas. It's a project driven by the desire from which we collectively inhabit our "skins." Because we work better together than alone.
Highlighted
Aguiar, Sebastián; Cardozo, Dulcinea; Ciapessoni, Fiorella; Etchebehere, Cecilia; Ferreira, Walter; Guevara, Alejandro; González Echaniz, Martín; González, Tacuabé; Lans, Sofía; Leopold, Sandra; Matonte, Cecilia; Montealegr, Natalila; Pérez, Leticia; Rossal, Marcelo; Sarachu, Gerardo and Laura Zapata (2022). “Of Encounters, Conflicts and Resistance. Reflections on the Relationship between the Collective Not All Is Lost (Nitep) and the University of the Republic”, in Cecilia Etchebehere, Florencia Ferrigno, Laura Zapata (eds.), Social Sciences and University Extension: Contributions to the Debate . Montevideo. 195-214.
Antivilo Peña, Julia (2015). Between the sacred and the profane rebellions are woven: Latin American feminist art. Ediciones desde abajo.
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Las Hartas Collective (2021). Following Pancha's Trail [photo performance, audio and objects]. Spanish Cultural Center.
Fisher, Walter. (1984). Narration as a Human Communication Paradigm: The Case of Public Moral Argument . Communication Monographs, 51(1), 1–22.
Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Siglo XXI Editores.
Ganz, Marshall. (2009). Why David Sometimes Wins: Leadership, Organization, and Strategy in the California Farm Worker Movement . Oxford University Press.
Hartman, Saidyia. (2020). Venus in two years. Eco-Pós Magazine , 23 (3), 12-33
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Juaracán, Maya (2021). Exhibition within the framework of the feminist artistic practices circuit. http://ccecr.org/evento/emancipadas-y-emancipadoras/
La Revoltosa (2022). Retelling Ourselves: An Exhibition of Women Artists from Central America. Artishock, HTTPS://ARTISHOCKREVISTA.COM/2022/05/18/RECONTARNOS-ARTISTAS-MUJERES-CENTROAMERICA/
Lacruz, Cecilia (2025). “Film workshop with people experiencing homelessness”, July 27, Razones y personas . https://www.razonesypersonas.com/2025/07/taller-de-cine-con-personas-en.html
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[1] Members of the CLACSO Working Group on Art and Politics, coordinated by Natalia Aguerre, Hans Stange and Andrea Forero.
[2] This writing is derived from the doctoral research of Communication at the University of La Plata, on the “Colombian Community Theatre as a space of communication strategies for Social Change” and refers to some of the groups addressed there to exemplify what is proposed.
[3] The Mojiganga Collective, located in Quibdó, Chocó, is a community-based artistic group. Chocó is one of the departments most affected by armed conflict and inequality in Colombia, with almost all illegal armed groups vying for territorial control.
[4] The El Totumo Encantado Collective, located in the El Totumo district of Necoclí, Antioquia, carries out its artistic and cultural work in a territory characterized by isolation, limited infrastructure, and profound social problems linked to poverty and armed conflict. Furthermore, in recent years it has assumed a central role in complex migration dynamics, with a high volume of people flowing in and social consequences that impact the local population.
[5] The Esquina Latina Theater Group is a prominent cultural organization in Cali, Colombia, founded in 1973 by students of the University of Valle. What began as an extracurricular initiative among friends interested in acting has become one of the most important theater companies in the country, recognized for its artistic trajectory and social commitment.
[6] We define the concept of skin as: “something we put on and take off; we construct it, reconstruct it, hack it from existing imaginaries and resignify them” (Méndez, 2024, 140). This concept had already been used in the scene, to refer to various states of embodied presence in the body of the performer-interpreter.
[7] https://crhoy.com/colectivo-las-hartas-marchan-para-exigir-mayor-seguridad-para-las-mujeres
[8] https://artishockrevista.com/2022/05/18/recontarnos-artistas – mujeres-centroamerica/
[9] During the 8M march, photographer Karla Orozco was documenting the march and captured a moment of the Hartas pointing at the camera, as a kind of on-site photo performance. This photographed action later became a piece.
[10] Emancipated and Emancipating Women: https://ccecr.org/evento/emancipadas-y-emancipadoras/
[11] Satisfactory is an independent art and design space located in Barrio Escalante, San José, Costa Rica, run by curator and cultural manager Erika Martin. This space supports and encourages artistic production, and offers residency opportunities and networking opportunities for artists in the visual and performing arts.
[12] Museum of Contemporary Art and Design.
[13] We were accompanied by feminist musical groups such as: Toca el Tambó, Retumba and Chicas al Frente
[14] Union of Feminists Generating New Systems (UNFES). Link to expo info: https://www.madc.cr/index.php/es/expo/unfes-somos-mares-rios-flores-minerales-volcanes-montanas-y-compost
