tropicalisisimo

san salvador

i am in the capital of what is considered to be one of the most violent countries in the western hemisphere: el salvador. before my arrival, in the media, i heard many stories of gunfights, people burned alive in buses and of transit systems brought to a halt by gangs. from people, i have listened quietly to stories that describe san salvador as a place devoid of life, a city that is overrun by pollution, poverty and thieves. though there is truth in these narratives, it is not the only one that exists in san salvador, nor the one that deserves the most attention. after all, we are talking about humans here, and i have had the fortune of meeting great ones in my life. it is extremely simple to regard san salvador as a city full of negativity, one that is more or less in decay, but this does not serve visitors or the people of el salvador well. it is true, san salvador is not rome. it is not barcelona. nor is it paris. el salvador was born from a different context, one of colonialism and of dictatorships. eighteen years ago the country was ending its civil war. inequalities and scars run deep. these things need to be considered when describing a place, in order to fully understand why it is the way that it is. i refuse to believe that el salvador is only those narratives that i have heard. i refuse to believe that a place where people live is devoid of life. there is beauty here, but it is subtle. it requires attention and a careful eye. this is my attempt at attuning my eye to it. i am here, and though it is not easy, i would not be anywhere else in the world.

el salvador.

how strange it is to be anything at all.

chuitziribal, guatemala.

en las nubes.

my head was in the clouds. quite literally. for five days, i visited the community of chuitziribal, one that consists roughly of thirty houses, floating calmly at 8,100 feet above sea level. the air is cold and thin. clouds roll in gently over hills of corn. it's quiet in chuitziribal, with silence occasionally broken by a dog fight consisting of half the towns' dogs. other than that, it's rustling corn, an off key song or a neighing horse. i stayed with the familia tax, a family of three women, a girl and two boys. the women have the disposition of women that have held firm in times of adversity. true beauty. señor tax is in the united states, one of the countless immigrants that leave home in order to subsidize a better life; pictures of this distant life cover the walls of the bedroom. one of the little ones told me that the father was set to visit this christmas. i didn't have the heart to ask when it was that he saw him last. i've passed through chuitziribal and am passing through guatemala, but some aren't passing through. this country is their life. their reality. i've been privileged with a glimpse of it.

"yo en el volante, y..."

...dios adelante. from Miguel Gutierrez Jr on Vimeo.

camiones, derrumbes y un temerario.

el lago de atitlan

brighter skies

if one has heard any news about guatemala lately, it would be safe to infer that it hasn't been too sunny here. it was for a bit today and it was beautiful.

andando from Miguel Gutierrez Jr on Vimeo.