ABOUT

You can find them in the streets of San Pedro Sula, Honduras, the most violent city in the world. You may come across them in some lost spot in the Nicaraguan dry corridor, or on the crumbling sidewalks of Havana, Cuba. You may be surprised in the mountains of the Andean Ecuador, or the depths of its Amazon jungle, on a deserted island of the Panamanian Darien or in any corner of the most populous Latin American capitals like Buenos Aires, where the insensitivity of its repeated rulers transformed in a few years, destitute loners in entire families wandering helplessly through its streets.

Geography, economic model may vary. You can disguise your scenery a bit, or even try to hide it a bit. But all these people, people with stories and emotions as infinite and complex as those of any other, are part of a social reality that defines Latin America from end to end and that painfully must coexist with the almost absolute indifference of a society that avoids them. . Standing before them, looking them in the eye, speaking to them, asking them their names, knowing their needs, their desires, their fantasies, helping them to overcome daily barriers, insignificant for us, enormous for them, is a way of integrating them. Portraying them, showing that they exist, that they are men and women who fell off the map, but are alive, is a way to help make them visible. To avoid that they become only figures of entities and organisms that measure everything in cold numbers.