The Cultural Photographer

Among Morocco’s picturesque cities, Ouarzazate certainly stands out. A UNESCO site near the Atlas Mountains, Ouarzazate lies on the famed Road of 1,000 kasbahs.

In Fez’s medina I spied this woman looking in to a house. I was attracted to the patterns on the beautiful door as well as the intricate diagrams on the back of her hand.

In the Moroccan village of Khamilia ... this striking lad is a apprentice musician who plays qraqeb, a type of mettalic set of hand cymbals, with other members of his tribe. The music is Gnaoua and is a tradition from sub-Saharan Africa where this boy's ancestors were from.

In front of the ruin that is the Ciné-Palace, a humble man wheels his belongings on Boulevard Moulay Rachid Gueliz in Marrakesh.

Sometimes photographs evoke aromas …..

This amazing Amazigh lady in Ouarzazate caught my attention and graciously posed for me.

On the streets of Bucharest, a Roma woman sells flowers outside of a church. Romani people make up 3.4% of the Rumanian population or more than 600,000. Many people believe the Roma people (gypsy is the pejorative term) are from Rumania; however their origins are Indian.

Sometimes the world reveals itself through filthy windows. On the Septemvri-Dobrinishte narrow-gauge train line through the mountains of Bulgaria.

On the Septemvri-Dobrinishte train I spotted this pretty blue mosque.

Traveling puts interesting folks in my viewfinder like this happy woman from a small town in Bulgaria's countryside. She's laughing at something being said to her. But what is remarkable is her style of dress, virtually unchanged in these towns since the Ottomans held sway in the middle ages. They were finally defeated in the 18th century, but their customs of dress are still followed by humble villagers.

In Sofia, this elegantly dressed man plays the elegant gadulka, a traditional instrument of Bulgaria. I liked his look and mien.

Sofia, the Bulgarian capital, abounds with interesting architecture of all types.

I've found that the people in the Balkan regions have extremely interesting faces. This woman makes change at her stall in Sofia's Women's Market.

What a character, just look at him!

In Bucharest, a man sits on a bench hoping for some leftovers. Street people of his age and older are referred to locally as "children of communism" unable to make the transition to the free economy in the 1990s.

Another lady selling flowers on the curb in Bucharest.

"The People's Palace" built by forced labor under the direction of Nicolae Ceausescu, Romania's infamous dictator. Its sheer size is rivaled only by the Pentagon, the Palace of the Parliament required destruction of neighborhoods in the process of "systematization" or a type of urban planning that Ceausescu adapted from the North Koreans. It is the crown jewel of ugly buildings in one of Eastern Europe's brutalism style showcases.

Hoi An is a favorite destination for tourists, particularly tourists from Vietnam. I kept going back to walk the town and soak in the atmosphere. In the evenings boat rides are popular. Here the boats start lining up on the shores of the Thu Bón river waiting for passengers.

Replenishing the incense in the Thien Hau Chinese temple in Saigon. The temple venerates the Goddess of the Sea.

Three huts on the water. Somewhere near the Marble Mountains in Vietnam.

2023 International Photography Awards Honorable Mention

Among the things that I brought back from Vietnam was the memory of this charming man in the ancient town of Hoi An who sold me a jar of Tiger Balm, the Asian equivalent of Vicks VapoRub. Blind and crippled, he teased and laughed with me. Me in English. He in Vietnamese.

Trains run fairly efficiently throughout Vietnam. They clickety-clack over this erector set bridge in Hanoi.

Very near to the famous Angkor Wat is the 12th century Ta Prohm temple. The buildings seem to mount a weak resistance to the trees which envelope them. These are ceiba trees, the sacred tree of the Maya and the national tree of Honduras. I couldn’t help but appreciate this connection to a world more familiar to me.

A great moment in modern civilization as a woman gets help on using her iPhone from a Vietnamese peasant while sitting on his waterbuffalo.

Cambodia’s sublime ruins of Angkor Wat attract an interesting mix of people. Here is a handsome couple posing on the grounds.

Here are three charming girls, perhaps sisters. They are on holiday with their family and the temple gallery was filled with their giggles. I particularly liked their mischievous poses.

Trussed up poultry is offered for sale at the Dong Ba market in Hué, Vietnam.

A girl arranges flowers for her family flower business on a street of Phan Thiet. Vietnam is a communist country. Yet millions survive in an informal economy: busy markets, restaurants, motorcycle rentals, and thousands of other enterprises.

Do you remember those days at school when your Mom or Dad picked you up? Hanoi.

A man sorts through his catch of crab on the sands of Mui Ne beach at the fish market. Taken in very low light at sunrise.

Daybreak flag-raising ceremony in Hanoi in front of Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum. A daily occurrence in one of the world's five communist nations.

Taken through the windshield of my guide's car, caught this street cleaning outside of Hanoi.

Quite a lot to see on Cambodia's large lake, Tonle Sap, including this man with his son (presumably). He is driving his shallow draft sampan, a traditional watercraft on the Mekong. He looks at me askance as I capture the moment. (The Tonle Sap is a UNESCO biosphere reserve).

Watering crops in a farm commune outside of Hanoi.

Newly or soon-to-be married, this couple enjoys a stroll around the Ho Chi Minh City Posts and Telecommunications building. Walk around photography sessions are common in cities like Hanoi and Saigon.

You can't hear her but she was laughing and saying goodbye. I love her school uniform and bare feet.

I was focused on the dog when I noticed, at the very las second, the young boy, a monk, watching me reproachfully.

Nothing was more enjoyable to me than visiting the Green School: kids in sharp uniforms, serious and diligent with their homework, and more than happy to sing us songs and have us join in.

As a photographer and traveler, I found the children of southeast Asia irresistable. Bright smiles, missing teeth and happy, happy expressions make it hard to walk away.

I had mixed feelings about taking this photograph until I understood the man’s story in full. He is very old; he is blind and he is dying. While surviving wars, genocide, flood and famine he raised a great family with countless children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren who do him honor. He is happy and spends his days in the sun.

At the Tran Quoc, Hanoi’s oldest pagoda, I caught this monk walking down a path.

In Cairo I saw this lady every day selling tissue packets. She spends hours at this. Everyday. It took me several attempts to get this shot because I wasn’t sure if she was being watched or not. My camera was at hip level.

Here an old man leaves the Basílica after a brief moment of prayer. I was lucky that he decided to walk out just as I was composing an inside-looking-out shot. I love his unhurried gait, his cane, and the watchful eyes above him as he quietly exits the church. Many of my favorite photographs have been taken in churches.

Somewhere on Iceland’s often spooky Ring Road I came upon this witch flying across my field of vision.

On the border between Honduras and Guatemala these women spend a full day in hot clouds of diesel fumes selling snacks to truckers hauling goods through Central America. They cheerfully deflect cat calls, flirting, and offers of marriage. One of my favourites.

Very near to the famous Angkor Wat is the 12th century Ta Prohm temple. The buildings seem to mount a weak resistance to the trees which envelope them. These are ceiba trees, the sacred tree of the Maya and the national tree of Honduras. I couldn’t help but appreciate this connection to a world more familiar to me.

Driving through Chiloé on a road not even on my National Geographic Adventure Travel Map, I came across a funeral-in-development. I parked hoping to get a good image of the mourners on horseback that you can see at the rear of this procession.

One hour later, positioned on the hill beside the cemetery, I was able to capture this marvelous view of the funeral procession in which the entire town participated. I don’t know the name of the important personage lying in his coffin in the Hyundai hearse.

What I liked most about the Eternal City was strolling at night through ancient streets that are still in use today. Here on the left is Carcere Mamertino the prison that held St. Peter before his execution. The stones on the street are wet and worn by time. You can hear the sandals slapping against them.

The gentleman with the quiet, gentle gaze is from Santiago de Atitlan on the lake of the same name. To me he epitomizes the mien of the indigenous people of the area: humble, dignified, and wise. In many ways he reminds me of José, my gallego grandfather.

I have a color version of this photograph that I also like. However, the patterns and textures of the traditional dresses really jump out in black and white.

Despite the close, hot, dangerous working conditions in this warehouse the laborers welcomed me with the common plea throughout Nicaragua: “foto foto foto”! It was an invitation I couldn’t refuse and 30 minutes of shooting resulted in this shot which says to me: sweat, heat, and hard work. I also see dignity and pride in their eyes as they work fast unloading metal braces.

Ancient Rome

This beautiful structure, a UNESCO cultural site, is silhouetted against an evening sky.

In Puerto Varas, Volcán Osorno one of Chile’s magnificent volcanoes forms the backdrop as a man swims in lake Llanquihue.

The Via Via hostel houses the hoi polloi of leonés culture both local and foreign.

The very familiar and famous Brunelleschi Dome, a work of art in the city of Florence, which is also a work of art. Taken from the vantage point at the Piazzale Michelangelo across the Arno river.

Bologna has millions (seemingly) of colonnades and archways. But it also has a gritty, mid-20th century feel I found very appealing. The fact that I spent two nights here by sheer accident, made it even more special.

I tired of the mass of tourists in Italy, cancelled my plans to go to Venice, and hopped a ferry to the French island of Corsica, birthplace of Napoleon. Here is the view from my hotel window.

The reason this angle is so popular with photographers is that you can take the picture sitting at a cafe on the Piazza del Duomo.

What I liked most about the Eternal City was strolling at night through ancient streets that are still in use today. Here on the left is Carcere Mamertino the prison that held St. Peter before his execution. The stones on the street are wet and worn by time. You can hear the sandals slapping against them.

In Florence, as in other Italian cities, a night time stroll is rewarded with scenes like this one.

In the ruins of Pompeii I found this modern sculpture of a Roman soldier looking towards Mt. Vesuvius.

Bastia, Corsica where I spent a relaxed week away from tourists.

On the border with Switzerland is the unassuming and beautiful town of Tirano, terminus of the famous alpine train the Bernina Express.

…. making its way up the grade to cross the Alps into Switzerland.

I was going for a 19th century look here.

Tirano, on the Adda river, is on the Italian Swiss border. I had a few hours to wait for my train so I walked around the town and found this old building on the banks of the river.

What can be said …..

In the tourist hub of San Pedro de Atacama is in northern Chile, close to the border with Bolivia. The desert itself is the driest place in the world and surrounded by marvelous things.

Here a man slakes his thirst, perhaps he has been riding his bicycle around the dusty town. The sun and light in San Pedro is harsh, but the climate is pleasant due to the altitude of nearly 8,000 feet asl.

Somewhere in the Atacama I came across this pretty lady with her necklace and earrings. Llamas are livestock in the Andean regions of Chile, Perú, and Bolivia. Their keepers, llameros, often decorate the animals with trinkets. It’s a very old tradition. The white eyelashes are real, however.

I have long desired to witness a glacier breaking apart, calving, into the sea. Here is one I observed from a Zodiac in the Magallanes region of southern Chile.

I feel that this experience was the flip side of the coin. The obverse being watching a volcano erupt. The earth is alive.

Driving through Chiloé on a road not even on my National Geographic Adventure Travel Map, I came across a funeral-in-development. I parked hoping to get a good image of the mourners on horseback that you can see at the rear of this procession.

One hour later, positioned on the hill beside the cemetery, I was able to capture this marvelous view of the funeral procession in which the entire town participated. I don’t know the name of the important personage lying in his coffin in the Hyundai hearse.

The inside of the little chapel at the bottom of the world, quite certainly the world’s most southern church. Cape Horn, Chile.

Valparaíso, Chile, once a couple of centuries ago it was the largest port on the Pacific and home to the powerful Chilean Navy. The hillsides are marked by colorful homes and buildings seemingly atop one another. They are made of metal.

Valparaíso, Chile is up and down, built on hillsides overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Around the city numerous funiculars aid the citizenry in navigating the steep hills. Many stairways such as the one photographed here, form part of the landscape as well. Interesting art and moral lessons often appear on the steps as you can see.

NB: Nearly every square meter of space in Chile is covered with graffiti; some artistic, most political.

I spent a great deal of my two months in Chile exploring the archipelago of Chiloé, a fascinating and beautiful group of islands famous for its forests, picturesque beaches, seafood, and hundreds of wooden churches.

Here is one of the cemeteries I found; simple wooden crosses climbing up a hill behind a wooden church in the village of Compu.

In the marvelously named small city of Chonchi, a man approached me and wanted to talk to me about my photography, what I was photographing, what were my plans in Chiloé. Most chilotes are very friendly and considerate people (the most considerate drivers I have ever experienced).

He nodded as I told him things I was looking for: interesting buildings, cemeteries, events, livestock, anything that reflect the local culture that would be of interest to the cultural photographer.

He recommended this place, the Cemetery in Teupa. It is the most remarkable cemetery I have ever seen and, along with Chichicastenango, Uzûpis, and Vienna my favorites of all time.

These are not crypts in the photograph. The deceased are buried in the ground and “houses” are build over the graves. The houses are replicas of the deceased’s actual home. Inside some of them are miniature furnishings: chairs, tables, pictures, and flowers.

In the end, this was a reward for slow travel, without a GPS, engaging with people interested in my work.

Granite monoliths. A symbol of Chile.

Late in the day, in the beautiful town of Puerto Varas in Chile’s lake district, a man takes a swim in the pristine Lago Llanquihue. In the rear is Volcán Osorno, an active snow-capped gem.

My fishing guide informed me that the volcano was one of the most perfect in the world. I looked it up, he was correct. Along with Concepción (Nicaragua) and Arenal (Costa Rica) which I have seen and Fuji (Japan) which I have not.

I feel this is one of my best black and white shots.

In the early 1950s my parents lived in Concepción, Chile where my father was a sales manager for Sterling Drug responsible for the distribution and sale of the well known aspirin Mejoral. His travels took him all over Chile, north to south. He often said that Chile was the most beautiful country he had ever seen.

I found a postcard of Osorno, the perfect volcano in “Man Swimming” and showed it to him one day and he told me that in Chile he was once in a town where there was a volcano at the end of the street. I though that was truly a phenomenon I would like to see some day.

When I turned a corner in San Pedro de Atacama, I saw this volcano at the end of the street. Seventy years after my father’s adventure.

These five girls live in the desert community of Nueva Esperanza in the Chiclayo province. They are hoping for Christmas presents. They will get them, thanks to the efforts of FNE International whose prime reason for being in the Zańa region is to provide much needed health care. For many of the kids in Nueva Esperanza these will be the only presents they see and get.

Along a dirt and rock road in the Chiclayo region of Perú, two boys drive their livestock home. A mix of goats and cows, they raise up a dust cloud. Their loyal dog maintains order.

This is one of the shots I paid for with some pain. Leaning out of the cab of the pickup truck I was riding in made for some interesting therapy: a mix of massage and dry needling in an improvised clinic in a small schoolroom got me back to Austin.

An old man, his joints creaking and complaining under the strain of the weight of his humble harvest of herbs that he is selling and delivering to homes and restaurants in the quiet town of Zaña in northern Perú. His job, his livelihood, is a fragile one subject to the influence and vagaries of El Nińo - a weather phenomenon that brings floods and drought in equal measure along the Pacific coast of South America.

On market days in Zaña, Perú merchants display their wares: foods of all kinds and type, candles, herbs, pots, and pans. Included among them is this charming lady.

Dignified and neat with a starched apron and confident mien, she proudly displays her fresh meat out in the open air of the plaza.

Zaña is the proud nexus of Afroperuvian culture.

Niño bailando la Danza del Amor en Chivay un pueblo peruano, capital de la Provincia de Caylloma, situado en la parte alta del Cañón del Colca, el cañon mas profundo del planeta.

Perú’s coast, from Chile to Ecuador, is desert and has some impressive dunes, an oasis, and the famous geogliphs of Nazca. I caught this couple coming down one of the dunes near the city of Ica. Some of the dunes reach 400 m in height.

Arequipa is an elegant city in the Peruvian Andes with white buildings erected with marble carved from nearby quarries. It looks like no other city in Perú.

In the fall of the year, March and April, Perú’s cities and mountainsides are shrouded in a lovely blue that seems to last hours. The Plaza de Armas in Ayacucho takes on a surreal ambience as the sky’s blue tones compliment the colors of the Plaza de Armas.

Ambulant salespeople, like this lad, seemed to be everywhere in Ayacucho selling green-topped kitchen appliances. My subject’s salesmanship seems to be directed in pitching woo rather than the merits of a salad spinner.

This is not the Colca Canyon. This is the river that leads to the world’s deepest canyon at approximately 10,000 feet of depth. This is taken from approximately 13,000 ft above sea level where the air is clear, snow topped volcanoes glisten, and waterfalls crash to the valley below. Magical. Oh, and those terraces along the right and in the middle distance? Over 1000 years old.

If you travel to Perú it’s required to have THAT photo of Machu Picchu. I took this one from a much different angle than the more familiar shot that is on so many people’s phones. The citadel and its location are frightening and fascinating.

Near Paracas, Perú, the islands are “the poor man’s Galapagos” and teem with wildlife including this endangered but proud Humbolt Penguin.

Sitting high in the Andes, Puno is the Peruvian gateway to Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. Puno sits at 12,660 feet above sea level and is the Capital Folclorica de Perú.

Of the hundreds of photographs and subjects I captured in Perú, I think of this one the most. This boy trades in his childhood for hours in the center of Ica washing windows for uncaring cab drivers and tourists.

International Photography Awards 2021 Honorable Mention

A picturesque scene, not atypical. Bucolic. But look closely, these sheep are hobbled for life as were all the livestock I observed: sheep, goats, alpaca, horses, cows. Even many dogs were tied up. Hard life for animals in Perú.

Part of the famed Nazca Lines in souther Perú, El Mono is one of the huge glyphs that can only be seen by aircraft. Little is known about who and why these dozens of diagrams, along with kilometers-long lines and designs, are there.

It was hard to get a good photograph as the tiny plane is buffeted by winds, updrafts, downdrafts, a looming storm, the Andes, and other perils. One of the world’s most dangerous flights, the 90 minutes was harrowing and wonderful all at once.

The cathedral in Cuzco, high in the Andes, seems to just sweat drops of gold and float in the air despite its visual weight. The main altar, side altars and chapels, are marvelous examples of pan de oro,: gold dust pounded into the woodwork until it glows. The church is a basilica, was build mid-17th century, and serves as a magnet to visitors and locals alike.

What was once a small mill, later offices, later repurposed as a school, now sits abandoned and a victim of the slow erosion of time. La Otra Banda, Perú.

Children on a playground adjacent to an abandoned plant, an image I’ll carry in my mind forever. Kombinati Metalurgjik in Elbasan.

Three girls in traditional costume sit on a bench enjoying ice cream in the Grand Park of Tirana, Albania’s capital.

In an abandoned factory outside Elbasan, a graceful classical violinist plays to the ghosts of the dictatorship in a scene that brings to mind the great contrasts of that country. Here are juxtaposed beauty and ugliness, elegance and decay, color and drabness, artistic joy and oppressive toil. (Credit: Dr. Ida Findiku, violinist).

Here is a link to that session: https://youtu.be/L2OwpN8Yeps

I spent a great deal of time in the Albanian countryside. Here I get a friendly smile from an old gentleman. What has he lived through?

This is Theth, a village in the Accursed Mountains of Albania. In the lower right is the grave of Robert Elsie a German-born Canadian scholar of Albanian culture and language. He died in Germany, yet his remains were brought here to this isolated valley.

Some cows approach the photographer.

In one of the many churches housing fabulous frescoes from the 15th and 16th century, a caretaker introduces visitors to the art entrusted to him.

A small church sits under the timeless and imposing Accursed Mountains.

“The mountains, always the mountains.” -Ishmail Kadare

In Korçê I found these three friends passing the time discussing the issues of the day: the economy, the weather, where to find the best raki, their wives.....

Only in Albania. Here is an abandoned storage tank farm. Enormous, empty, and haunting.

On a river near Shkodra, a graceful minaret is reflected in the water.

Ghost of Industry: an incinerator tower long abandoned but still casting its gloom and doom.

A goatherd in the Albanian countryside offers a smile.

A woodcutter gives directions. Albanian countryside.

Albanian peasant on horseback in the countryside.

A toothy smile from a peasant on a mountain road.

Three musicians waiting for their cue to join the parade during the Korçë Carnival, Albania's largest.

A woman in a mask at the Korçë Carnival, Albania's largest event that was forbidden during the 50-year dictatorship.

A face of Albania photographed in Prístina, Kosovo.

Kosovo is inhabited by Albanians, as are Montenegro and Macedonia.

Friendly smiles from a restaurant in Prizren, Kosovo.

Upstream from Nauta, Perú, an indigenous man smiles from his humble piragua, a type of dugout canoe. He is looking for a customer for his small batch of plaintains, a staple in the Amazon regions of Perú, Colombia, Brazil and other countries within the enormous basin. Seeing him brought to mind the classic song La Piragua.

Boys will be boys in their river community, excited by so much attention from visitors.

A community with homes on stilts, metal roofs, windows without glass, laundry drying on the line, and someone’s fishing boat at rest on the shore. Everyday scenes on the river. Note the long propeller shaft designed for shallow waters.

Soft-voiced Carolina an aytay, or shaman, ready to cleanse with tobacco smoke and leaves. She ministers over a dozen communities in the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve her medicine and serves their spiritual and cultural needs as well. Also a Roman Catholic, she practices religious syncretism. Apologies from the photographer, taken at 1/30th f4.5 ISO 2000.

Part family pet and part livestock. pigs are pork and pork is a big part of the diet in the communities in and around the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve.

Girls line up for a photograph on the beach of their small village while a friend playfully photobombs the scene. They live in Solterito, deep in the Peruvian Amazon with fewer than 150 inhabitants; it’s relatively clean and litter-free, they are happy and friendly, bilingual speakers of Spanish and their native tongue.

One late afternoon I was treated to a languid canoe ride by this happy villager who took me through through the forest. Canoes are a way of life and many communities are water locked, accessible only by the river system that is their home. My lady canoeist asked me “are there canoes where you live?” A tip of five soles and a pack of fishhooks brought a smile to her face.

Two sisters and a cousin of the Cocama-Cocmilla tribe on the Rio Marañon enjoy a delicious meal of fish, plantains, chicken, cuy (guinea pig), rice, and corn prepared by loving hands.

The sun sets on the upper regions of the Amazon, fully 6,000 kilometers from its mouth.

“… the mother that flows through her blood to the roots of the trees and the veins of the Earth where we’re writing the greatest of tragedies.”

The Amazon Is Not for Sale by L.E. Goldstein

To me, this might be the essential photograph of this lovely town. A colorful Jeep, loaded for the mountains, moves slowly down colorful Calle 10 under the watchful eye of the Basílica Menor de la Inmaculada Concepción.

One thing about colombianos is that they are great at getting 100% out of everything. Case in point is this old truck that has lovingly been rebuilt to look as close as possible to the original. i’m sure it runs great!

I love the sense of isolation felt here. Not the boy’s, but the photographer and the viewer. The reality, the street, seems far away. I also like the yellow.

Jardín is in Antioquia, and Antioquia IS coffee. In fact, the smell of roasted coffee fights for attention with the scent of flowers in the main square. Here is a typical scene, two friends having coffee and wrestling with the problems of the world, or maybe just talking about their wives.

Of the many shots I took in the mountainsides surrounding Jardín, I like this one the best. It’s a typical house, or houses, made of cinderblock and mortar with some clothes on the line and signs of work being done. Perhaps what most appealed to me was the private cloud.

Here an old man leaves the Basílica after a brief moment of prayer. I was lucky that he decided to walk out just as I was composing an inside-looking-out shot. I love his unhurried gait, his cane, and the watchful eyes above him as he quietly exits the church. Many of my favorite photographs have been taken in churches.

This is a scene from any of the last two or three centuries. A humble little house with the front room turned into a vegetable and fruit store. Most of the inventory hangs from the window and door way. The colors of the fruit and houses are the Colombian flag: yellow, red, blue.

Some kids roped together walk down the streets of Jardín on their way to play. It’s a school day, but they’re happy for the break. Two troublemakers smile at the photographer.

With a straw hat, called an aguadeño, sits in a cafe on the central square.

This was a fun shot to compose, but it took some patience to wait for the right man, the right hat, and the right angle. So I sipped my coffee and waited for his to walk slowly beneath me. I sense that you can feel his slow walk, his lean, and his peace of mind.

This church is the pride of Zacatecas and rightly so because its architectural style is unique to this unique city. Zacatecas has more museums that you can possible imagine in a city of this size.

A great little city and UNESCO World Heritage Site, Guanajuato’s local culture that encompasses a university, phenomenal baroque architecture, museums, and music.

Pátzcuaro is quiet, unassuming, a cultural gem with fine art, fine people, and fine food.

I was wandering around one of the museums in the town of Guadalupe, one of many in Mexico. This was in Zacatecas. Normally the library is closed, but someone was inside the library, I asked permission to enter and look around. I found this massive collection of books. Most of them relate to the history of the city and Zacatecas.

Old mining tunnels are repurposed as arteries under the city carrying buses, pedestrians, taxis, and cars. Innovative.

A focal point and meeting site for the city’s bohemian crowd, students, artists, tourists, and this little girl here.

I loved this view at night. Could be Europe, but for the distinctive sculpture in the distance, the famous stone statue in honor of Juan José de los Reyes Martínez Amaro, El Pípila.

I was marveling at the stone, its color and texture, when this workman crossed my field of vision.

La Basílica Colegiata de Nuestra Señora de Guanajuato was finished at the end of the 17th century.

This scene reminded me of Santiago de Compostela. Guanajuato also has a quiet and picturesque network of narrow streets and alleys.

Sometimes the beauty of this city cannot be described.

This scene just developed for me as I waited and anticipated this beautiful moment.

This museum full of mummies is the most popular in Guanjuato.

It’s holy communion day and white was the uniform of the day. Look at the kid on the left, he wants IN!

In the beautiful city of San Cristobal de las Casas in Chiapas, Mexico I caught this little boy looking at me as I took photographs on the Plaza de la Paz.

Local culture for me is often reflected in the cemetery.

I lover the facial expressions as much as the intricate weaves of their skirts and blouses. What got my attention was the lady holding the boy’s hand; in her other she has a steaming bowl of soup.

The gentleman with the quiet, gentle gaze is from Santiago de Atitlan on the lake of the same name. To me he epitomizes the mien of the indigenous people of the area: humble, dignified, and wise. In many ways he reminds me of José, my gallego grandfather.

A girl still in her school uniform meets her mother on the plaza in Xela to share some quality time.

One of the most interesting and colorful cemeteries in Central America, the Chichicastenango cemetery is host to differing rites of passage: Catholic and Maya. I took this on my way out of the cemetery when one such rite was being concluded. Note the smoke towards the right.

Women work selling goods to truck drivers. The fumes from the Diesel engines all but obliterate them as they make their way up and down the line of trailers entering Guatemala.

The processions during Holy Week in Antigua have tremendous cultural, historical, and religious significance. Thousands of tourists flock to the city and line the streets. I took this from the open window of a cafe while drinking a cerveza Gallo. Couldn’t have been better.

A boy who has forsaken playing soccer and having fun with his friends is juggling on a busy street hoping to earn some quetzales for his family. His face paint is rather eerie, I think.

My first sale and to date my most popular photograph. I too was waiting out the rain, I saw the wet floors in the church (La Soledad) and knew there would be an opportunity for a good shot.

La Fortuna and Arenal Volcano

One of my favorite places in Costa Rica, La Fortuna has it all. Not least of which are great views of Volcan Arenal seen here forming the backdrop to the Parque Central.

This is one of those photographs with a hidden dynamic that is unseen until I put it on my computer for post processing. Blue-colored fingernails and perhaps a touch of color on the lips. Just one of the things to see traveling about Nicaragua.

A wide angle shot of the church, dedicated to the Virgen de Guadalupe, patroness of the Americas and highly revered in Nicaragua whose patroness is La Merced. The facade of this church is from the 1700s although the initial construction was in the 1500s nearly 500 years ago.

There are two towns named Potosí in Nicaragua. This was taken at the most remote of the two, up on the northern edge of the country across the Bay of Fonseca from Honduras. An excellent place for a fritanga of fish lunch.

This is a postcard. No portfolio of Granada is complete without this view of the cathedral and the lake.

In Nicaragua horses are worked very hard. I’m sure this plunge in the cool river was very welcome indeed after the toil and sweat in the intense heat and humidity.

Here I found that what was behind the scenes of the cockfight was more interesting than the cockfight itself. Two boys, elbowed out by the grown ups, try to get a peek at the proceedings. One of them eyes me warily with his one eye. The men wear honest workmen’s attire, they are gambling and the air smells of beer, blood, and despair. There are no women.

I am proud of this shot which I planned well in advance. With cooperation of the hotel, I set up my camera and shot over 200 photographs of the street during the late afternoon as the light changed. This was the last picture I took just as I was getting ready to leave.

Wow, this was a fun shot. There is so much going on. The fishermen are pushing the boat along by rolling it on logs. Certainly a centuries-old technique. It’s early morning, the kids run along excited, the birds hover because the boat is full of fish ready to be scaled and skinned for market. There is a celebration and joy in this honest hard labor.

I love this church. I love its intense color, which is yellow. Yet for some reason I chose this black and white for my portfolio. I don’t understand myself at times.

I love León because, despite the poverty, there is much joy there. This was my street, it is 500 years old and leads to the great 18thC cathedral and basilica. Every smile in this photograph brings me joy. Also note the child on the left, she has one skate. The kids share a pair of skates.

The soundtrack of León consists of nightly fireworks, vendors hawking door to door, motorcycles, and of course the sound of horses pulling drays delivering goods. Lovely.

Despite the close, hot, dangerous working conditions in this warehouse the laborers welcomed me with the common plea throughout Nicaragua: “foto foto foto”! It was an invitation I couldn’t refuse and 30 minutes of shooting resulted in this shot which says to me: sweat, heat, and hard work. I also see dignity and pride in their eyes as they work fast unloading metal braces.

On a hot day I waited for the right truck at the right moment to get everything in one shot: the jewel that is Iglesia Calvario in the background, the truck crowded with passengers, and the wires! Love the wires.

This a humble home as you can see by the lack of furnishings. It is one of many in the old city of León. This child, dwarfed by the doorway, I scrubbed clean, changed into clean clothes, and enjoying his bag of chips.

This photograph came under some criticism, specifically from a priest who felt I was condoning graffiti on the cathedral. I suppose he assumed that these kids were responsible. I just saw four kids (one is hiding) laughing and joking on the window sill.

What’s interesting here, to me, is the juxtaposition of the old low-slung house, the Sandinista (FSLN) graffito, and the new age neon car.