San Antonio de Palopo is inhabited by Cakchiquels, one of the 22 Mayan groups indigenous to Guatemala. It is a beautiful place to photograph: a pueblo rising from the shore of a volcanic lake, terraced plots of corn and onions on the slope above the adobe homes. My greatest difficulty was the Mayans' entrenched (and thoroughly understandable) reluctance to get involved with foreigners and their cameras.
Dealings with foreigners have not worked out well for the Mayans recently. I was lucky to meet Santos Perez, president of the local artisans' cooperative, who both embraced the project and helped in translation (I speak Spanish, but not the Cakchiquel dialect). The Calabay Sicays graciously put aside their fears and invited me in. Even so, they made many restrictions to my coverage, including being finished shooting by 5:00 pm each day so I could get back to my hotel before dark. Thieves had recently killed a man nearby, and they didn't want to be seen with a photographer and all his expensive equipment beyond sunset. They feared bandidos might think I was living with them, which could precipitate an assault, or worse, another murder.
The family also refused to have certain items in the Big Picture. Remarkably, they thought the beautiful, soot-covered clay pots they cook with give a bad impression, and they wouldn't allow them in the photo. I explained that in my country objects like that are behind glass in museums!
I photographed the Mexican and Brazilian families as well, and was surprised that the families in all three countries chose the same favorite possessions--stereos for the men, religious items for the women, toys for the kids. Then it occurred to me that my stereo is one of my favorite possessions, too. Maybe we're not so different after all.
