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  • Abril y Mayo 2011/Bolivia<br />
Carmen Rosa La Luchadora al centro de la fotografía de rojo camina alrededor de la gente por las calles del centro de la Paz Bolivia<br />
<br />
Foto:Juan Gonzalez
    10-HM-Juan-Gonzalez-03.JPG
  • Abril y Mayo 2011/Bolivia<br />
Fanáticos de la Lucha Libre como Mujeres típica de Bolivia conocidas como Cholitas y niños gritan entretenidamente al observar la lucha<br />
<br />
Foto:Juan Gonzalez
    10-HM-Juan-Gonzalez-08.JPG
  • Latin American Immigrants in Barcelona.<br />
Danny and Emilio in the house of Emilo's mother (Paquita) before lunch. The economic crisis in 2008 affected them very hard because Danny was not able to find a full-time job and either Emilio, as he sufer from epilepsy. Emilio decided to sell his summer house in Costa Brava in Barcelona in order to be able to buy a new house in the Dominican Republic. Danny and Emilio later moved to live in the Dominican Republic with Danny's her 3 dauthers. Unfortunately the move was delayed more than a year becuase Emilio's mother didn't let him go. Emilio and Danny flew to the Dominican Republic this summer but had to come back to Barcelona again because Emilio's mother passed away. Unfortunately, when they got to back to the Dominican Republic, Emilio fell into a health crisis and passed away this November. Danny is now living both in the United States and the Dominican Republic with his 3 dauthers.
    LAT01-11-PatiD-A-04.JPG
  • Carlos (in the mirrow) from Ecuador supervises his friend Agustín from Paraguay during the renovation of a kitchen in a Barcelona apartment. Carlos came to Barcelona in 2000 to join his wife Flor who arrived 2 years earlier. When Flor came to Spain she worked to be able to send money in order for her family to come and join her. After one year living in a flat with 25 other persons, Carlos and Flor got their papers and were able to rent a flat and bring they 2 sons. Now Carlos has a small construction company and Flor keeps working in the same house since 1998.  Ecuatorians is the biggest group of latinamericans in Barcelona and in Spain. Official statistics estimate that there are between 350.000 to 500.000 ecuatorians in the country.
    LAT01-11-PatiD-A-05.JPG
  • An older woman and a child start a fire near San Pedro Sumino in August of 2009.    Her children have left, she lives with her granddaughter. At night they both go to a neighbors house where they get fed.
    LAT01-17-Runa-A-11.JPG
  • Latin American Immigrants in Barcelona.<br />
The mother of Sandra (the bride) tells her grandson to be quiet during the wedding ceremony. Sandra (spanish) marries Carlos (ecuatorian) in Barcelona and they move to live in Ecuador with Carlos' 3 old year son Antoni. After a couple months Carlos said that he "didn't get used to" Ecuador and the family decided to move back to Barcelona again. They now live in one of the suburbs of Barcelona and Carlos works within the construction sector. His father (in the black suit) has however moved back to Ecuador and has built 2 houses and started a company that rents construction machinery.
    LAT01-11-PatiD-A-06.JPG
  • A girl feeds a baby chica de yuca, a drink made of fermented yuca in San Pedro Sumino in August of 2009.  The “chicha,” a beverage made out of yuca and offered at all times of the day.  To not accept it when offered is an insult to Kichwas.  When you first enter their house, chicha is like a strong handshake.  It  is a covenant, allowing  strangers to build a trusting friendship.
    LAT01-17-Runa-A-20.JPG
  • A boy and his niece hang out in a room near San Pedro Sumino in August of 2009.  Usually older kids take care of the younger ones. Many of the houses have family and extended family living in it.
    LAT01-17-Runa-A-04.JPG
  • People sing the Portuguese national anthem near the cordon of riot police officers by the stairway of the Congress during a demonstration to marking the European coordinated general strike in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 14, 2012. Around 1.4 million people are currently unemployed in Portugal, and only 370,000 of them have receiving monthly social support from the government, leaving around 1 million people without the benefit. Over youths, unemployment rates is breaking records reaching 39% in the third quarter of the year, or equivalent to more than 175,000 people. The official unemployment rate in Portugal is currently on 15.7%, a bit away from the highest European rate in Spain, with 25.8%, followed by Greece with 25.1% of jobless. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-35.JPG
  • A homeless man sleeps by a shoes shop in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 10, 2012. Around 1.4 million people are currently unemployed in Portugal, and only 370,000 of them have receiving monthly social support from the government, leaving around 1 million people without the benefit. Over youths, unemployment rates is breaking records reaching 39% in the third quarter of the year, or equivalent to more than 175,000 people. The official unemployment rate in Portugal is currently on 15.7%, a bit away from the highest European rate in Spain, with 25.8%, followed by Greece with 25.1% of jobless. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-36.JPG
  • Homelessness since March, Former Portuguese Army officer Captain Alberto Rodrigues, 70, who was in the Army for 11 years (66-68 Guinea Bissau, 68-70 Macau and 70-77 Mozambique), has some soup as his wife Natalia Gusmao, 50, eats some food by the stairs of a closed Christmas gift shop, after they have receiving a lunch at a free food distribution centre nearby "Praça de Espanha" square (or Spain square), in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 28, 2012. Around 1.4 million people are currently unemployed in Portugal, and only 370,000 of them have receiving monthly social support from the government, leaving around 1 million people without the benefit. Over youths, unemployment rates is breaking records reaching 39% in the third quarter of the year, or equivalent to more than 175,000 people. The official unemployment rate in Portugal is currently on 15.7%, a bit away from the highest European rate in Spain, with 25.8%, followed by Greece with 25.1% of jobless. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-41.JPG
  • Protestors gather near the cordon of riot police officers by the stairway of the Congress during a demonstration to marking the European coordinated general strike in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 14, 2012. Around 1.4 million people are currently unemployed in Portugal, and only 370,000 of them have receiving monthly social support from the government, leaving around 1 million people without the benefit. Over youths, unemployment rates is breaking records reaching 39% in the third quarter of the year, or equivalent to more than 175,000 people. The official unemployment rate in Portugal is currently on 15.7%, a bit away from the highest European rate in Spain, with 25.8%, followed by Greece with 25.1% of jobless. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-38.JPG
  • Protestors disassemble the sidewalk to throw rocks towards the cordon of riot police officers by the stairway of the Congress during a demonstration to marking the European coordinated general strike in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 14, 2012. Around 1.4 million people are currently unemployed in Portugal, and only 370,000 of them have receiving monthly social support from the government, leaving around 1 million people without the benefit. Over youths, unemployment rates is breaking records reaching 39% in the third quarter of the year, or equivalent to more than 175,000 people. The official unemployment rate in Portugal is currently on 15.7%, a bit away from the highest European rate in Spain, with 25.8%, followed by Greece with 25.1% of jobless. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-39.JPG
  • Guilherme (C) and his sister Mafalda (R), sons of a family who lives inside a trailer, which is attached to a tide room used for cooking and resting-- play around after having lunch, in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 17, 2012. Around 1.4 million people are currently unemployed in Portugal, and only 370,000 of them have receiving monthly social support from the government, leaving around 1 million people without the benefit. Over youths, unemployment rates is breaking records reaching 39% in the third quarter of the year, or equivalent to more than 175,000 people. The official unemployment rate in Portugal is currently on 15.7%, a bit away from the highest European rate in Spain, with 25.8%, followed by Greece with 25.1% of jobless. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-33.JPG
  • To follow a story on Euro zone crisis in Portugal by Susanne Daley - An elderly man sits by a vacant building, which used to be a teather, while watching a demonstration by Army officers through Avenida da Liberdade, or Freedom Avenue in Portuguese, in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 10, 2012. Portugal is on the top EU country list in inequality and social contrast. Poverty rates on elderly community is nowadays in 21%, and Lisbon itself has increased 80% over the past 20 years. Due to the financial crisis, the number of retired people on food distribution centers increases weekly while austerity measures recently announced by the government has affected dozens of social institutions. Data released on Sunday by the WHO (World Health Organization) indicates that 39.4% of elderly people in Portugal are victims of abuse and, of these, 32.9% are victims of psychological abuse, 16.5% of racketeering, 12.8% of violation of their rights, 9.9% of negligence, 3.6% of sexual abuse and 2.8% of physical abuse. Still, from a WHO research, in Portugal, 44% of households with a person aged over 65 years have financial difficulties in keeping the home adequately heated. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-37.JPG
  • In this photo taken Wednesday, Jan. 4, 2012, Jesus Ignasio Flores, 51, chronic renal failure patient and former worker of the San Antonio sugarmill, is helped to dress by Carmen Rios, rigth, President of the Nicaraguan Association of the People Affected by Chronic Renal Failure, ANAIRC. Flores, worked as an irrigator and construction worker for 23 years at the San Antonio sugar plantation and mill. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-36.JPG
  • Ludmila Moura, 5, who was pulled out of her destroyed house by her father Marcelo, sits on a mattress at a shelter for people displaced by landslides in Nova Friburgo, Brazil, Sunday, Jan. 16, 2011. <br />
<br />
A series of flash floods and mudslides struck several cities in Rio de Janeiro State, destroying houses, roads and more. More than 900 people are reported to have been killed and over 300 remain missing in this, Brazil’s worst-ever natural disaster.
    16-3-Felipe-Dana-43.JPG
  • An elderly walks down an alley inside a cemetery after praying for a relative during the All Souls Day (one of four holidays that cease from 2013 due to austerity measures), in Lisbon, Portugal, on November 1, 2012. Portugal is on the top EU country list in inequality and social contrast. Poverty rates on elderly community is nowadays in 21%, and Lisbon itself has increased 80% over the past 20 years. Due to the financial crisis, the number of retired people on food distribution centers increases weekly while austerity measures recently announced by the government has affected dozens of social institutions. Data released on Sunday by the WHO (World Health Organization) indicates that 39.4% of elderly people in Portugal are victims of abuse and, of these, 32.9% are victims of psychological abuse, 16.5% of racketeering, 12.8% of violation of their rights, 9.9% of negligence, 3.6% of sexual abuse and 2.8% of physical abuse. Still, from a WHO research, in Portugal, 44% of households with a person aged over 65 years have financial difficulties in keeping the home adequately heated. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-43.JPG
  • A man carries an armchair over his head while moving furnishings from an apartment of an elderly person who died few days before, at Martim Moniz neighborhood, in central Lisbon, Portugal, on November 21, 2012. Portugal is on the top EU country list in inequality and social contrast. Poverty rates on elderly community is nowadays in 21%, and Lisbon itself has increased 80% over the past 20 years. Due to the financial crisis, the number of retired people on food distribution centers increases weekly while austerity measures recently announced by the government has affected dozens of social institutions. Data released on Sunday by the WHO (World Health Organization) indicates that 39.4% of elderly people in Portugal are victims of abuse and, of these, 32.9% are victims of psychological abuse, 16.5% of racketeering, 12.8% of violation of their rights, 9.9% of negligence, 3.6% of sexual abuse and 2.8% of physical abuse. Still, from a WHO research, in Portugal, 44% of households with a person aged over 65 years have financial difficulties in keeping the home adequately heated. Photo by Mauricio Lima for The New York Times
    16-2-Mauricio-Lima-34.JPG
  • APOCALYPSE AFGHANISTAN - Afghan protestors shout slogans against Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad during a demonstration in front of the Iranian embassy compound in Kabul on May 2, 2010. Some 200 people gathered in the protest during which they accused the Iranian government  of a public execution of 40 Afghans two weeks ago. AFP PHOTO/Mauricio LIMA
    LAT01-12-LimaM-C-01.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-20.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-04.JPG
  • The Paco<br />
<br />
The Paco is a drug that is killing some years miles of kids in Argentina, Chile, Brazil and Peru. Born in the suburbs of Buenos Aires shortly after the 2001 crisis, soon spread to other countries. Paco is done with the residue of cocaine mixed with more harmful substances such as dust or glass halogen lamps burned. In a few time dependence is total and you get to death, body slimming, teeth falling out, until I choke. The paco only costs 5 pesos in Argentina dose (one euro) and has a few seconds 1000 times stronger than regular cocaine. Most affected are the young kids from 12 to 17 years. The great tragedy is that this deadly drug was released from the poorest areas and is now becoming fashionable even in the middle class. Without some kind of unstoppable epidemic.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
01) Lomas de Zamora, Argentina 2011. A guy is sleeping outside his house in the middle of an open sewer. People who use to smoke paco sleep during the day.<br />
02) Lima, Perù, 2011 A boy in an abandoned bulding. People spend all the night smoking Paco.<br />
03) Cartagena, Colombia, 2011 is the city with the biggest amount of young girls forced into prostitution. Most of these girls uses the money to buy drugs.<br />
04) Brazil, Salvador de Bahia, 2011. Guys on the street in the centre of the city.They need to smoke Paco all the night.<br />
05) Lima, Perù, 2011. Youg guys having breaskfast and smoking Paco and Crack.<br />
06) Brazil, Salvador de Bahia, 2011, a girl smokes Paco in his slums in the city center.<br />
07) Brazil, Salvador de Bahia, 2011. Very young guys on the street in the centre of the city. They are used to smoke Paco all the night.<br />
08) Lomas de Zamora, Argentina 2011. A man is selling Paco to young boys in front of children.<br />
09) Lomas de Zamora, Argentina 2011. A guy smoking paco in an a abandoned building.<br />
10) Brazil, Salvador de Bahia, 2011. A doped prostitute is wandering in the city.<br />
11) Brazil, Salvador de Bahia, 2011. The police arrest Paco dealers.<br />
12) Lomas de Zamora. Buenos Aires, April 2012. A
    13-1-Valerio-Bispuri-01.JPG
  • People play soccer in San Pedro Sumino in August of 2009.   San Pedro is a Quichua (indigenous) community located on the Napo River.   Many of the houses located along the river can only be reached by canoe and the residents live in isolation.   The people hunt, grow crops, such as corn and yuca, and fish in the Napo river.
    LAT01-17-Runa-A-12.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-23.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-15.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-06.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-02.JPG
  • The Kichwas of the Napo River<br />
<br />
The Kichwas of San Pedro Sumino are very shy and reserved people. They are also one of the original tribes of the Ecuadorean jungle. This indigenous community lives fairly isolated from big cities.  A lot of their houses can only be reached by canoe making it hard for most to reach the roads and sell their products in the markets.  They survive in tight communities where helping the other is not an option but a philosophy of life. They receive basic or no assistance from the outside, having to work very hard together to make ends meet.  Still, they live without creating a great impact on their environment.  In what they call mingas, the Kichwas harvest, make canoes, fish, hunt, cook and play together. They don’t like anyone in their community to be left behind.  The Kichwas prosper together. With modernity, some things have changed, but the basic principles of living in a community have remained the same.  Kids wear jeans and listen to reggeton but they still help the family with all the daily chores.  They understand medicinal plants, can stand in a one-person canoe as they row up river and they deeply respect their elders. They know legends of rivers and boas and hold a tight relationship with nature, their home. <br />
<br />
A man heads down the Napo River on a fishing trip near San Pedro Sumino in August of 2009.   San Pedro is a Kichwa (indigenous) community located on the Napo River.   Many of the houses located along the river can only be reached by canoe and the residents live in isolation.   The people hunt, grow crops, such as corn and yuca, and fish in the Napo river.
    LAT01-17-Runa-A-01.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-22.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-19.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-18.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-17.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-14.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-11.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-10.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-09.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-08.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-05.JPG
  • People gather to receive food from US soldiers in a camp for displaced people  due to the Jan.12 earthquake in Cite Soleil,  Port-au-Prince, Haiti, Feb. 3,  2010. (AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd)
    LAT01-16-AbdR-31.JPG
  • People leave flowers after a burial of a landslide victim in Teresopolis, Brazil, Friday, Jan. 14, 2011. <br />
<br />
A series of flash floods and mudslides struck several cities in Rio de Janeiro State, destroying houses, roads and more. More than 900 people are reported to have been killed and over 300 remain missing in this, Brazil’s worst-ever natural disaster.
    16-3-Felipe-Dana-39.JPG
  • Latin American Immigrants in Barcelona.<br />
Resume:<br />
Spain is recognized as one of the new immigration countries in Europe. Since 1996 this country has changed dramatically from having been a country that people left to be a country that people move to. During the past 10 years, thank's to the rapid growth of the construction and service sectors, the population with foreign decent has increased and now amounts to 13,5% of the country's total population. The majority of the new citizens of Spain have come from Latin America, primarily from Ecuador, Colombia, Bolivia and the Dominican Republic. It is estimated that there are around 6 million foreigners in Spain and Barcelona is the second city to has a largest latin american community. In Barcelona it is estimated that 18% of the population is immigrated. Ten years ago, the immigrants were the answer to Barcelona growing economy, but as a consequence of the crisis that hit Spain in 2008 the immigrants are now rather seen as the source of the economic problems. This story aims at portraying the daily life of the new citizens of Barcelona on order to widen the discussion about the immigrants and their role in the society. This story is part of a documentary photo project called The new citizens of Barcelona and has been published in 2010 by several media like: Mondaphoto of Mexico, the newspaper El Telegrafo and Expreso from Ecuador and the photodocumentary latin american magazine Sueno de la Razón. <br />
<br />
In the picture: <br />
The face of Danny Rosado from the Dominican Republic reflects in the glass of the window of the train that takes her to her home in Barcelona. Danny came to Barcelona in 2003 and started to work as a domestic assistant. In 2008 she got married to Emilio (spanish) and moved with him to  a single room in a shared apartment  with an ecuatorian family living in Cornella. After she moved to live with her husband, she worked taking care of her mother in law who had Alzheimer's disease.
    LAT01-11-PatiD-A-01.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-24.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-21.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-16.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-13.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-07.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-01.JPG
  • A landslide victim lies under debris in Teresopolis, Rio de Janeiro state, Brazil, Thursday Jan. 13, 2011.  At least 350 people have died after landslides hit early Wednesday, and 50 or more were still missing, according to officials.  <br />
<br />
A series of flash floods and mudslides struck several cities in Rio de Janeiro State, destroying houses, roads and more. More than 900 people are reported to have been killed and over 300 remain missing in this, Brazil’s worst-ever natural disaster.
    16-3-Felipe-Dana-41.JPG
  • Doris Peranchiguay harvests potatoes with her mom and her son.  Most families in the Island of Teuquelin plant potatoes for their own consumption, only a few sell it outside the island. <br />
<br />
Boats only come to Teuquelin, an islet off the Chiloe island, once a week or when there is an emergency.  The only people who live in Teuquelin are of the Peranchiguay family, who arrived about 200 years ago. Nowadays, there are only elderly people, women, and four kids. The youth left, and only eight families survive off the land, the sea, and luga, an algae that is harvested and sold to make shampoo and daipers.
    LAT01-16-RunaKG-A-06.JPG
  • People walk in a camp for displaced people due to Jan.12 earthquake in downtown Port-au-Prince, Haiti, Feb. 2,  2010. (AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd)
    LAT01-16-AbdR-34.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-12.JPG
  • They number but ninety-three. Ninety-three out of four hundred. Ninety-three children recovered: 400 children disappeared. A mere handful — but a handful that proves that blood cannot be erased. They, the ninety-three saved from the nightmarish plan of a military dictatorship intent upon annihilating their identity, are living proof that not all can be hidden. Not all can be made to disappear.<br />
<br />
The military regime took power in Argentina on March 24, 1976. Most of the children they kidnapped were taken along with their parents or were born in one of the secret detention centers. The ninety-three who have been found to date were saved through the unceasing battle fought by their families and with the unwavering support of the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo. Some of these children were simply abandoned. Some were given to families who adopted them without knowing their true identities. Others were kept by the very people who kidnapped their parents. But in all cases the intention was to erase their true identities, to break the family line so that the children would never be like their parents.<br />
<br />
I began to photograph those children, today men and women, in August, 2001. I wanted to show them next to a family member who worked for years to find them. For me, putting these two people in a single image represents the failure of the policy — of the terror — that the military dictatorship tried to impose. These photos attempt to show that lies could not defeat family bonds because the families, and the children themselves, persevered.<br />
<br />
By including a reproduction of a photograph of disappeared parents the two images become a unit, joining the present with the past. The essence of photography is to put what has been together with what is. The text tells us who they are, what happened to them, and how they became who they are today. The three elements — the text, the photo of the present, and the photo of the past — form a triptych that closes part of our history.<br />
<br />
Son a
    LAT01-18-AcosM-A-03.JPG
  • In the Penitentiary are San Pedro Sula those who have retired gang they call "Peseta", are the common prisoners are called "Paisas gang members and are called" Maras ".Separated by different modules, the "Paisas" living in a prison in overcrowded barracks. With a population of about 2000 people, the "Paisas" make life inside the prison where no shortage of activities as Hairdressers, Billiards, kitchen and even a small farm.Photographs of the "Paisas" inmates independent regime.<br />
En la Penitencieria de San Pedro Sula se encuentran los que se han retirado de las pandillas a quienes llaman "Pesetas", están los privados de libertad comunes que son llamados "Paisas y están los pandilleros llamados "Maras". Separados por diferentes modulos, los "Paisas" conviven en un centro penitenciario hacinados en barracones. Con una población cercana a las 2000 Personas, los "Paisas" hacen vida dentro de la prisión donde no les faltan actividades como Peluquerías, Billares, Cocina y hasta una pequeña Granja. FOTOGRAFIAS DE LOS "PAISAS", RECLUSOS EN REGIMEN INDEPENDIENTE
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  • In this photo taken Friday, Jan. 27, 2012, Wilson de Jesus Zapata, is embraced by his wife next to tomb of his father Segundo Zapata,49, in new cementery of Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. <br />
Zapata, chronic renal failure patient and former sugar cane cutter of the San Antonio sugarmill during 20 years, A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
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  • Fernando Ferre, 17, digs the grave for his neighbor Karla Pinto, 23, a mother of three who was killed with two shots in the head in Choloma, a town outside San Pedro de Sula, Honduras, March 11, 2011. The reason for the attack is unclear, but the maras operate in the area and make people pay what is know as Impuesto de Guerra, or War Tax, anyone refusing or failing to pay is executed. Drug trafficking is another problem, and drug related killings are common, as well as robberies and kidnapping. The Hospital Mario Catarino Rivas - San Pedro´s public hospital, attended in 2010 1098 wounded by knife, 1070 wounded by guns and 472 died in the hospital for violent attacks. Photo/Tomas Munita
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  • Marcos, 89, and Monica, 87, have been married and living in their apartment in Buenos Aires, Argentina, for 65 years. In 2007, Monica was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Since that moment, her husband devoted all his time to take care of her. He has been exposed to suffering substantial changes in his life as well as a very strong physical and emotional impact, typical of someone who is gradually losing his companion of all his life. She passed away in July of 2011. The photographer has been documenting their struggle for 3 years. According to Alzheimer's Association, it is estimated now in 36 million the number of Alzheimer's patients all over the world. This disease is considered as a future epidemic because it mainly affects older people, and as life expectancy is annually increasing in global population, the disease is becoming increasingly common. By 2050, it is projected that the number of patients will have increased to over 115 million.
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  • In this photo taken Friday, Jan. 27, 2012, Segundo Zapata's coffin passes next to sugar cane plantation of San Antonio sugarmill in Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. Zapata, chronic renal failure patient and former sugar cane cutter of the San Antonio sugarmill during 20 year. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-42.JPG
  • In this Friday, Jan. 20, 2012 photo, a sugar cane cutter drinks an electrolyte solution supplied by his employer at the San Antonio sugar mill where 'Flor de Cana' rum is produced in Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
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  • People dress of the nicaraguan traditional characters load a coffin during a simulated burial of the "Sadness and poverty of the soul' during celebration of the International Poetry Festival in Granada, Nicaragua, Wednesday, Feb 16, 2011.
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  • People attends a birthday celebration of the Cuba's leader Fidel Castro at a Cuba square in Managua, Nicaragua, Friday, Aug. 12, 2011. Supporters of the rulling Sandisnita party , cuban residents and admirers of ailing Fidel Castro celebrate his 85th birthday. Castro will turn 85 Saturday.
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  • Lines are left behind by people who walked on their knees across the sawdust covered floor at the Las Sierritas church in honor of the city's patron saint Santo Domingo de Guzman in Managua, Nicaragua, Friday, Aug. 10, 2012. The first 10 days of August are reserved for the carnival-like celebration to honor the patron saint with processions, bullfights, parties and church services.
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  • Some of the main leaders of Mara Salvatrucha that were transfered from a High Security jail, at the prision Centro Penal Ciudad Barrios, in El Salvador. August 14, 2012.<br />
When top leaders of two of the hemisphere’s most violent street gangs sat across from one another in the stifling air of a maximum security prison earlier this year, the encounter had a very different aim: peace. With a military chaplain and a former lawmaker officiating, the imprisoned gang leaders held a moment of silence for the thousands of people their street armies had killed. After a few more meetings — and the government’s concession to transfer 30 of the leaders to less-restrictive conditions — they shook hands on a pact to put an end to the killings. “We said we have to talk because things are getting out of hand,” said Carlos Tiberio Valladares, a leader serving time for murder who has tattoos of his gang etched across his face. “No one is going to tell you they want their kids to continue on this path.” Photo/Tomas Munita
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  • Some of the main leaders of Mara Salvatrucha that were transfered from a High Security jail, at the prision Centro Penal Ciudad Barrios, in El Salvador. August 14, 2012.<br />
When top leaders of two of the hemisphere’s most violent street gangs sat across from one another in the stifling air of a maximum security prison earlier this year, the encounter had a very different aim: peace. With a military chaplain and a former lawmaker officiating, the imprisoned gang leaders held a moment of silence for the thousands of people their street armies had killed. After a few more meetings — and the government’s concession to transfer 30 of the leaders to less-restrictive conditions — they shook hands on a pact to put an end to the killings. “We said we have to talk because things are getting out of hand,” said Carlos Tiberio Valladares, a leader serving time for murder who has tattoos of his gang etched across his face. “No one is going to tell you they want their kids to continue on this path.” Photo/Tomas Munita
    16-1-Tomas-Munita-40.JPG
  • Victoria Kubirinketu, an Ashaninka woman, walks back to her village after collecting bananas and a banana flower (in her hands). <br />
With encroachment from settlers and speculators, and after a devastating war against Shining Path rebels a decade ago, the indigenous Ashaninkas’ hold is precarious. And they are now facing a new peril, the proposed 2,200-megawatt Pakitzapango hydroelectric dam, which would flood much of the Ene River valley. The project is part of a proposal for as many as five dams that under a 2010 energy agreement would generate more than 6,500 megawatts, primarily for export to neighboring Brazil. The dams would displace thousands of people in the process. April 2012. Photo/Tomas Munita
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  • In this photo taken Tuesday, Jan. 24, 2012, Segundo Zapata, 49, is seen inside a hospital in Chinandega, Nicaragua, Zapata, chronic renal failure patient and former sugar cane cutter of the San Antonio sugarmill during 19 years. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-40.JPG
  • In this photo taken Thursday, Jan. 19, 2012, Relatives dress the body of the recently dead Jesus Flores, 51, chronic renal failure patient and former worker irrigator a mason of the San Antonio sugarmill, inside of her house in Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. in this Wednesday, Jan. 4, 2012 photo. Flores, 51, who died of chronic kidney disease on Jan. 19, 2012, worked as an irrigator and construction worker for 23 years at the San Antonio sugar plantation and mill. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-37.JPG
  • A sugar cane cutter poses for a picture during a break of the San Antonio sugar plantation where 'Flor de Cana' rum is produced, Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-34.JPG
  • A sugar cane cutter drinks water as he works in the fields of the San Antonio sugar plantation where 'Flor de Cana' rum is produced, Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-32.JPG
  • A man is taken out of the car after he was shot by a group of young men in Limon, Costa Rica, March 6, 2011. He survived, but the reason for the attack is unclear. Limon is becoming extremely violent since a couple of years ago when drug cartels are operating in the city, an important route of the drug going to the north. In the past decades drug dealers were paying money to the people involved in drug trafficking, but since few years ago the payment is in drugs, making the population addict. Drug related killings are becoming more and more common, as well as violence in general. Photo/Tomas Munita
    13-2-Tomas-Munita-08.JPG
  • Police officers run to catch a young man accused of attacking his neighbor with a gun in Limon, Costa Rica, March 6, 2011. Limon is becoming extremely violent since a couple of years ago when drug cartels are operating in the city, an important route of the drug going to the north. In the past decades drug dealers were paying money to the people involved in drug trafficking, but since few years ago the payment is in drugs, making the population addict. Drug related killings are becoming more and more common, as well as violence in general. Photo/Tomas Munita
    13-2-Tomas-Munita-07.JPG
  • Fernando Ferre, 17, digs the grave for his neighbor Karla Pinto, 23, a mother of three who was killed with two shots in the head in Choloma, a town outside San Pedro de Sula, Honduras, March 11, 2011. The reason for the attack is unclear, but the maras operate in the area and make people pay what is know as Impuesto de Guerra, or War Tax, anyone refusing or failing to pay is executed. Drug trafficking is another problem, and drug related killings are common, as well as robberies and kidnapping. The Hospital Mario Catarino Rivas - San Pedro´s public hospital, attended in 2010 1098 wounded by knife, 1070 wounded by guns and 472 died in the hospital for violent attacks. Photo/Tomas Munita
    16-1-Tomas-Munita-43.JPG
  • Guarding Mexico's Elite/ Story Summary: During President Calderon's term (2006 - 2012), over 60,000 people were killed in drug related violence. Kidnappings remain another source of income for organized crime. Many Mexicans, especially elite families, feel constantly under threat. While corrupt police are often part of the problem, wealthy Mexican families who are prime kidnapping targets often take protection into their own hands by hiring private militias of bodyguards. One prominent Mexican head of family ("José”) allowed coverage of his family and their team of highly-trained bodyguards, giving a unique insight into Mexican society, under the condition that his full name and city of residence would never be published, for his family's protection. <br />
<br />
Photo 1/12 - A professional security team winds through narrow streets at night in Mexico, following their boss, José, in his Ferrari, to make sure no incident occurs. The bodyguards maintain constant communication with and close proximity to their "principal" at all times. As a result of Mexico's increasing violence, many of the country's elites take protection into their own hands, by hiring private security forces.
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  • In this photo taken Thursday, Jan. 26, 2012, Relatives cries next to recently dead Segundo Zapata, 49, chronic renal failure patient and former sugar cane cutter of the San Antonio sugarmill, inside of her house in Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. Zapata work during 20 years in the San Antonio sugarmill. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
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  • In this photo taken Thursday, Jan. 19, 2012, Brothers former sugar cane cutters of the San Antonio sugarmill,  Juan Cruz, 50, right, and Hilario Perez Cruz, 30, left, chronic renal failure patients, posses for a picture in a house in Trohilo, Leon, Nicaragua. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-38.JPG
  • A sugar cane cutters are seen during a labor day of the San Antonio sugar plantation where 'Flor de Cana' rum is produced, Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-33.JPG
  • In this photo taken Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012, Emma Vanegas, bathe of her husband Segundo Zapata, 49, chronic renal failure patient and former sugar cane cutter of the San Antonio sugarmill, inside a his house in Chichigalpa, Nicaragua. Zapata work during 20 years in the San Antonio sugarmill. A mysterious epidemic is devastating the Pacific coast of Central America, killing more than 24,000 people in El Salvador and Nicaragua since 2000 and striking thousands of others with chronic kidney disease at rates unseen virtually anywhere else. Many of the victims were manual laborers or worked in the sugarcane fields that cover much of the coastal lowlands.
    16-HM-Esteban-Felix-39.JPG
  • Latin American Immigrants in Barcelona.<br />
From an economical perspective, the growth of the construction sector in Spain and the extensive demand for low-cost workers for the service sectors, where the mosts important factors when analysing the migratory flows of the 90's. On the other hand, the South American countries where at the same time facing different economical, political and social crisis, that are also important to consider in order to fully understand the attraction and expulsion factors creating the migratory flows. During the first 10 years of receiving migrants, Spain's economical system didn't give any signals of possible future bubbles and the immigration was perceived as nothing but necessary. However in 2008, when the crisis hit the situation changed drastically and the spanish economy could no longer absorb all the immigrated labour force. In less than a year the unemployment rate in Spain rose to 15% and when entering enter 2010 it reached 20% of the work force. It is estimated that more than 5,000.000 people are unemployed in Spain. It is also estimated that 26% of the unemployed are immigrants. In contrast to before, immigrants are now an easy escape goat for all current problems.<br />
In this picture an ecuatorian worker is cleaning a venue after the mexican independence celebration in Barcelona.
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  • Durante la segunda quincena del mes de Octubre de 2010 comenzaron a aparecer casos de Cólera en la región de Artibonite, en Haití. Desde entonces la epidemia ha dejado más de 4.500 muertos y cerca de 250.000 afectados.<br />
<br />
A man carries a woman suffering cholera symptoms in a wheelbarrow as they arrive to the St Catherine Hospital in Cite Soleil slum in Port au Prince (Haiti). Wheelbarrows have became the best way to carry ill people for the poorest that don't have another way or money to contract a transport.<br />
<br />
Andrés Martínez Casares/EFE
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  • The Shawi people are a Peruvian ethnic group, which maintains with great vigor their mystic believes. Their relationship with nature is immersed in a series of myths and believes which rule their everyday life.  Living  in the Peruvian deep wood jungle, the Shawi community struggles to survive despite imminent westernization.
    LAT01-18-NolmM-A-09.JPG
  • The Shawi people are a Peruvian ethnic group, which maintains with great vigor their mystic believes. Their relationship with nature is immersed in a series of myths and believes which rule their everyday life.  Living  in the Peruvian deep wood jungle, the Shawi community struggles to survive despite imminent westernization.
    LAT01-18-NolmM-A-04.JPG
  • A neighbor points to a residential area completely devastated by the tsunami in Pelluhue, March 2, 2010. The February 27 8.8-magnitude quake that hit Chile was so strong it triggered a Pacific-wide tsunami that affected 200 kilometers of coastline, at places sweeping 2,000 meters inland. It killed more than 400 people.
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  • US Army Lieutenant Christopher Babcock looks at the body of a suspected Taliban fighter killed by US soldiers from 1-320th Alpha Battery, 2nd Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division, while local people protest the man was a farmer from Samir Kalacha village in the volatile Arghandab Valley, Kandahar, Afghanistan, Wednesday, July 28, 2010. (AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd)
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  • A couple wait to be attended by doctors in a mobile clinic set up to serve people with symptoms of swine flu, Mexico City, Thusday, April 30, 2009. (AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd)
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  • People look at the eruption of the Pacaya volcano in Villa Canales, 50 km south from Guatemala City, Friday, June 4, 2010. (AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd)
    LAT01-16-AbdR-12.JPG
  • Wearing face masks to prevent infections, a man stand next to coffins containing bodies of landslides victim at a cemetery in Nova Friburgo, Brazil, Saturday, Jan. 15, 2011. <br />
<br />
A series of flash floods and mudslides struck several cities in Rio de Janeiro State, destroying houses, roads and more. More than 900 people are reported to have been killed and over 300 remain missing in this, Brazil’s worst-ever natural disaster.
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  • "We shared exercise, rotating an intergenerational leadership, which is inspiring for people’s spirituality. We are inspired by shared leadership that creates safe spaces for expression, self-care, participation and the growth of leadership capacities, providing collective support." Lolita Chavez
    Ester Pérez Berenguer - 1501 - 7-Ne...jpg
  • A woman serves up Yuca, a root eaten by the Kichwa people, both in drink form or cooked. The drink is called “chicha,” a beverage offered at all times of the day.  To not accept it when offered is an insult to Kichwas.  When you first enter their house, chicha is like a strong handshake.  It  is a covenant, allowing  strangers to build a trusting friendship.
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  • The men of the community haul a canoe out to the river to test it, after making it from scratch. This canoe will be used to transport the people of the community up and down the river without having to pay much for this service.
    LAT01-17-Runa-A-05.JPG
  • The Shawi people are a Peruvian ethnic group, which maintains with great vigor their mystic believes. Their relationship with nature is immersed in a series of myths and believes which rule their everyday life.  Living  in the Peruvian deep wood jungle, the Shawi community struggles to survive despite imminent westernization.
    LAT01-18-NolmM-A-08.JPG
  • The Shawi people are a Peruvian ethnic group, which maintains with great vigor their mystic believes. Their relationship with nature is immersed in a series of myths and believes which rule their everyday life.  Living  in the Peruvian deep wood jungle, the Shawi community struggles to survive despite imminent westernization.
    LAT01-18-NolmM-A-07.JPG
  • SHAWIS<br />
The Shawi people are a Peruvian ethnic group, which maintains with great vigor their mystic believes. Their relationship with nature is immersed in a series of myths and believes which rule their everyday life.  Living  in the Peruvian deep wood jungle, the Shawi community struggles to survive despite imminent westernization.
    LAT01-18-NolmM-A-01.JPG
  • The Shawi people are a Peruvian ethnic group, which maintains with great vigor their mystic believes. Their relationship with nature is immersed in a series of myths and believes which rule their everyday life.  Living  in the Peruvian deep wood jungle, the Shawi community struggles to survive despite imminent westernization.
    LAT01-18-NolmM-A-02.JPG
  • People watch Ceci and Meme dance outside one of the restaurants in El Caminito.
    LAT01-16-RunaKG-A-13.JPG
  • A man murdered by unknown people laid inside a car as police investigators work in the crime scene, Guatemala City, Tuesday, June 16, 2009. (AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd)
    LAT01-16-AbdR-07.JPG
  • Aerial view of houses damaged by landslides in Nova Friburgo, Brazil, Sunday, Jan. 16, 2011.<br />
<br />
A series of flash floods and mudslides struck several cities in Rio de Janeiro State, destroying houses, roads and more. More than 900 people are reported to have been killed and over 300 remain missing in this, Brazil’s worst-ever natural disaster.
    16-3-Felipe-Dana-38.JPG
  • Roberta Machado Correia, a landslide survivor attends the funeral of a friend in Teresopolis, Brazil, Thursday, Jan. 13, 2011<br />
<br />
A series of flash floods and mudslides struck several cities in Rio de Janeiro State, destroying houses, roads and more. More than 900 people are reported to have been killed and over 300 remain missing in this, Brazil’s worst-ever natural disaster.
    16-3-Felipe-Dana-34.JPG
  • Alejandro Sanchez, 76, looks for his sheeps and goats through the abandoned farming lands of Quillagua. He is the last one to rise livestock in this almost ghost town. He used to be a farmer working for landowners, but the landowners sold their water rights to mining companies and left the town, leaving behind people like Mr. Sanchez that had nowhere to live, no water to farm and no job. The animals can only be fed with the fruit of the Algarrobo and Tamarugo trees, they had deep roots so they still survive the drought. But the water they drink from the river is dangerously polluted and doesnt carry water all along the year as it used to do. Atacama desert, Chile. April 2010.
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  • Durante la segunda quincena del mes de Octubre de 2010 comenzaron a aparecer casos de Cólera en la región de Artibonite, en Haití. Desde entonces la epidemia ha dejado más de 4.500 muertos y cerca de 250.000 afectados.<br />
<br />
Several people carries the coffin of a person died from cholera during a burial in Drouin, on the riverside of the Artibonite river.<br />
<br />
Andrés Martínez Casares/EFE
    LAT01-02-MartA-08.JPG
  • Colombia, Leticia, 2010. Cargador. <br />
Amazonas está apenas a 90 metros sobre el nivel del mar. No hay viento ni sombra. Para sobrevivir, algunos indígenas transportan a pie las pesadas mercancías que llegaron por el río. Hasta 80 kilos pueden alcanzar estos racimos de plátano, verdura básica de la alimentación lugareña que, antes de llegar a la cocina, se pasean por húmedos, polvorientos y calurosos paisajes.<br />
. Shipper. <br />
Amazon is only 90 meters above sea-level. There is no wind nor shade. In order to survive, some of the indigenous people transport their heavy merchandise to the river by foot.  These bunches of bananas can reach up to 80 kilos,  they are the basic vegetable of the village, which before arriving at the kitchen, have to be walked through humid, dusty and warm landscapes.
    LAT01-17-EstrDav-09.JPG
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