 |
 |
The People of Cuetzalan
Arriving to Cuetzalan, is like entering a zone where all the people
remind you of whose country this really is. Everyone is tan, everyone
has very indigenous features. Men and women concentrate on their daily
labour, carrying heavy loads on light feet, in an ethereal pace as were
they paying attention not to damage the ground with their bare feet.
Their peaceful
faces reflect the patience that Indians have kept, always waiting for
the sun, the moon and for the humidity that feeds the fields, their
harvests, and as a result, their feasts.
They are all so
serious except for the children, who always look at you with a smile
on the face and with a glint in their eyes, and one can only wonder:
when exactly do they stop smiling?
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Kids
waving from a pick up |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| The
sisters from San Miguel. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
|
| Little
girl glancing at the Future |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
