A Quick Bit of Staistics

Sept 10, 2009
Johnson, VT

I am slightly obsessive about certain things and I have quietly hid these little obsessions over the years. I have decided to embrace them as I approach the end of my 30 years.

30 gigs of data / digital images were created on this last trip
63 rolls of film shot which equals 1032 frames of images. 451 frames made it through the first edit and have been scanned. 43.7% of film shot made it through the initial edit to move on to the second round. Not a bad shooting average at all.

Chichicastenago Surprise

Sept 9, 2009
Johnson, Vermont

As some of you know, the market at Chichicastenago in Guatemala was slightly underwhelming for me. Yet sometimes the places that you didn't think much of can surprise you with an amazing shot that make the early morning worth while and rewrite your impression of that day, that market, that moment forever. This is part of the magic of photography. This is part of the wonder of film.

One of my favorite thing about shooting film is that you don't get to see it right away. You have wait. By the time you get your proof sheets back, its been days and days and days since you shot that roll, since you been to that place. It is familiar to look at each shot as you remember most of them and also a surprise too cause there are ones that are long forgotten.

I would say that I had the best market experience in Central America at San Juan Chamula. But I am not sure that I have a GREAT shot from that day. Chichicastenago might have been slightly disappointing as far as the market was concerned, but look what I brought home with me, look at this moment that I caught on film.

Logic vs Gut Instinct in hand to hand combat in an all White Room

Aug 31, 209
Johnson, Vermont
Elevation 157m

I am sitting in my all white studio space with a window looking out into the parking lot with a perfect view of the construction workers using the porter potty. I know that photography is on the low end of the totem pole in the art world, but did that need to be made so obvious with a view of the shit house? (I am certain that my studio assignment does not reflect anything other than what is practical and convenient).

I am editing through 63 rolls of film from Mexico and Central America. I shot markets in 13 different cities and 4 countries. I can usually look at the proof sheet and tell you which town that market is as no two markets are a like. I am looking at 3 proof sheets of meat isles and meat stalls and I cannot tell you which country it was in, much less what town. I remember being at that particular market, I remember shooting the images, I remember each of the isles, but I cannot remember anything else. By the process of elimination, logic tells me that this mystery market is not in El Salvador or Nicaragua, but my gut instinct tells me that I shot these images late in the trip which means that it is El Salvador or Nicaragua. OMG! I feel like I am going crazy. My gut is certain, but logic dictates otherwise.

Maybe its not good for me to be in an all white room. Maybe I should staples some pads to the walls....

Chicken Bus Mystery

Aug 16, 2009
In transit to Managua for the Corn Islands, Nicaragua

Today I need to take a bus from San Juan del Sur to Rivas then onto another bus for Managua where I will get on a flight to the Corn Islands. The bus from Rivas to Managua breaks down before we are even at Granada (this is my second broken down bus on this trip). If I didn't have a flight to catch today, I wouldn't stress about it and would just wait until either the bus is fixed or... but today, time matters. So we grab our packs and hail down the next bus that comes along, which happens to be headed for Managua. The guy who collects the money gets off the second bus and around up nearly everyone who were on the broken down bus (both bus were full prior to this point) and attempts to shove everyone into one bus. OH MY GOD. I did not think a bus could hold this many people. There are 5 guys hanging off the back of the bus, as in, they are not actually inside the bus, and as we stop along the way, more people tries to get on.

The guy some how still manages to collect money from the right people who have not paid their fare.. how does he know who to collect money from when you can't even see the front of the bus? I thought we would have to pay again seeing that we are on a different bus now. But, no, we didn't have to because we have already paid for the broken down bus. Which then brings about the question, are the chicken buses in Nicaragua private enterprise like they are in Guatemala? If all chicken buses are private enterprises in Central America, which I assumed they are, its AMAZING to me that they manage to arrive and depart as promptly as they do.


If the chicken buses are not privately owned and operated then how does the fare collection work? The guy who collects the money sometimes gets off when the bus stops at a certain town, with the money, and another guy gets on and he starts to collect money from the new passengers. All of this happens very seamlessly with no time to hand off the fare collected by one guy to the next. What is going on and how does the system work?

Further more, all of these chicken buses in Central America were once yellow school bus carting children around in the US, how does it get down to Central America? Are they driven down? Are they imported in large quantities? Or does someone who wants to get into the chicken bus business saves up enough money and goes to the US, buys an old school bus and then drive it down himself?

I know this seems like a lot of question about the chicken bus but I can't help but be curious and fascinated by how the whole thing works. If you know anything about it, will you please enlighten me?

Adventures in Boarder Crossing

July 31, 2009
Antigua, Guatemala to Juayua, El Salvador

I now have a travel friend and we decided to head south into El Salvador. After a quick breakfast, after me insisting on picking up an AMAZING brownie made by JP, a bar owner in Antigua from New Orleans, we head over to get on a chicken bus for Guatemala City. This is my first chicken bus and I am sad to report that there were no chickens on this particular bus.

A bumpy hour later, we arrive at the biggest city in Central America, Guatemala city. Now, I have been told that Guatemala city is a dump and very sketchy, I have to admit that there was a part of me that thought about coming in for the day (this was pre- El Salvador) just see what kind of cluster fuck it really is. Well, let's just say that there really is no need to see it. A dirty, messy, charm less city, much like many I have been through.

A taxi to another bus terminal for another chicken bus to the boarder. The chicken bus are old yellow school bus that used to drive children to and from school in the US, after X number of years, they get retired and they get send down here in Central America. Some guy buys it, paint it multicolored, and they will cram as many passengers on to it as possible. What I am most impressed by is the guy who is in charged of the fare on a chicken bus. People come on and off all the time, including from the door that opens straight back from the bus. Sometimes people jump on through the back door while the bus is in motion. How does the ticket taker keep track of who has paid and who needs to pay is a kill beyond my imagination.

Its the raining season here in Central America, afternoon thunder storms is the norm. I have been lucky enough that it has not affected my travel much and also have managed to just duck indoors to wait out the rain. Well, the rain started here in Guatemala around 4pm, a torrential down pour. Its stops for a bit here and there, but by the time we arrive at the El Salvador boarder, it is a massive down pour. I had to tread through ankle deep water to get to the front door of immigration.

After that, its another collectivo that is supposed to take us to the bus which will take us to the biggest town in the region where we have to catch a different bus for our final destination. The collectivo passes through water that must be 6 inches deep, thank you for visiting Guatemala, welcome to El Salvador, then meters into El Salvador, the collectivo stops short. The collectivo can't go any further as there is a major land slide ahead. Boulders the size of small dining room tables are falling down the hill. The other collectivo that we need is on the other side of this mud slide. We put our packs back on and starts walking very quickly but carefully down the road, across the land slide. There is no going back into Guatemala as there is nothing at the boarder. Forward is the only choice.

We get across the mud and giant boulders, get on the collectivo, only to have it sit right by the land slide, making us nervous. Alright, back out on to the road again. It would be safer if we keep on walking than to sit in a non-moving car taking the chance that the land slide would get worst. We get further down the road and clearly there is nothing else coming this way. The collectivo has now collected enough passengers and are coming our way. Thank god!

The El Salvadorians are all super nice and we make some conversation with them about where we are from and where we are going. We get to town, find a bathroom, get 5 conflicting opinions as to if there is still a bus to Juayua and we set off to find the chicken bus station. We were told by 6 different people that it is just around the corner, well, its actually just around about 4 corners, many corners were turned before we finally find the chicken bus that we need.

Wet but excited, it took us 7 hours, 3 chicken buses, 2 collectivos, 1 taxi, 6 inch deep of rain water, a major down pour and a land slide but we have arrived at Juayua at last.

Charlie Grosso

www.charliegrosso.com

310-592-0895

Chichicastenago and Unexpected Moments

July 23, 2009
Chichicastenago, Guatemala
Elevation 2233m

Chichi is supposed to be one of the biggest markets here in Guatemala. What I have learned from my years of market hunting is that the biggest may not always be the best, sometime the random no name markets in no name towns are better (at least for me) than the ones that drawls the biggest crowds. Some friends of mine loves market day at Chichi, while others are less than impressed. No matter, I am gonna check it out anyways.

The market is mostly craft. I must say that I am not impressed. Its alright, at least I tried.

I end up in the main church here in Chichi. There is still another couple of hours before my bus heads back to Antigua, I am literally seeking sanctuary from the vendors and the sun.

There are these low wooden risers all through the center isle, covered in flower pedals and candles. I watch this old man kneel by one and repeat his prayers over and over and over as he light one candle after another and sticks them on to the wood flats. There are women chanting, there are other prayers being prayed, it all intermingles and it echoes through the church. Yet this old man's raspy whispered prayer some how rises above them all, in the midst of it, I close my eyes and send up a prayer of my own.

I watch him some more and take a photo on the sly (photos are not allowed in the church, lucky for you I don't do too well w rules). He brings out a small bottle of alcohol and pours some on wooden riser, around the candles and flowers. He is finally done, but he is having trouble getting up. Bad knees and stiff joints, I could almost hear them crack. I wanted to go over there and help him but I didn't want to offend or let on that I have been observing.

Something about these last few minutes of watching is old man pray really touched me. This is what I will take away with me from this market day...

Pacayn

July 25, 2009
Antigua, Guatemala
Elevation 1500m

Trekking up and camping overnight on Volcano Pacayn is by far the craziest thing I have ever done, even more so than jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.

A good friend of mine was here in Antigua earlier this year and she had recommended an overnight camp/trek with a group called OX Expeditions. Every tour agency in town can arrange for a day trip out to Pacayn which is what most people do. OX is the only one who does an overnight camp.

We leave Antigua early friday afternoon with everyone carrying a bit of the camping gear in their packs. There is 9 of us in the group plus our guide. 3 young Spanish girls and their sidekick, a lost girl from Portland, OR. A very nice couple from Washington DC, she is in the non-profit sector and he is an earth science teacher. A young Dutchman, an Englishman born in Hong Kong who is also friends with my friend and me. We reach Pacayn in about an hour and starts out ascend. We hike though amazingly dense forsts with an occasional grassy green fields on the opposite side. There are random stray cows munching in the woods and a curious dog or two. There is a bit of elevation gain, challenging but not severe.

We start at about 2000m and we reach base camp in about an hour and half. We have a fantastic view of Volcano Agua from our camp site. Oh, oh, there is a bit of trouble. The spot OX normally camp at is on a road, but there is usually no cars on it, today, there are two trucks. Our guide goes over to see what is what. They are doing some work and wont be leaving until much later, which would mean that we have to camp at a different site and only be able to set up 2 tents or we have to camp in the dark. The lost girl actually came up with a brilliant idea, she suggest that they move the trucks out now, further down the road so we could camp. The 4 girls goes over with our guide to see if they could work their magic a little. At first it doesn´t seem to be working, the Englishman and I actually joke that perhaps we could trade the girls in for our camp site as neither of us cares much for them. Nevertheless, the girls do their job, the trucks are moved and we set up camp.

Around 6:30pm, we start out ascend up an active volcano, Pacayn. At first its full of soft sandy volcanic ash and pebbles, then it changes to larger loose volcanic rocks. The footing is loose and you are always uncertain if what you are standing on will hold. You look up and see all the groups that are now making their descend and you think ¨FUCK! That is Steep!¨ The way up is treacherous to say the least, is it a trail that we are hiking on? Or are we just climbing up the side of an volcano? The volcanic rocks are sharp, there are many who are coming down with cuts on their legs and hands.

After about an hour of tough climbing, its nearly dark and we have reached the lava at 2379m. We are now standing next to a flow of lava that is about 6 foot wide and moving fast. The earth science teacher could not be happier. He even brought a rock hammer so he could stick it in the moving lava to collect some samples. The wind picks up and you can feel the heat coming off the lava. OMG! This is fucking incredible and yet very kinda scary at the same time.

We are standing on crusts, here and there, there are pockets where you can see the red glow of the lava flowing beneath. The earth is alive, the earth is moving underneath you. This particular natural phenomenon is one which I have had very little experience with. I am a little in awe, I am not sure what to think.

Some in the group are super excited, they are trying to roast marshmallows on the lava, collecting samples, getting way too close to the lava as if they are immune to heat. I find a spot to sit and I watch. The lava flow is hypnotic. Our guides points out how the Guatemalans have such a different approach to these kinds of natural wonders than Westerners do. While they are hooting, hollering and whistling, all of us are quiet, beholden by the raw intensity of what we are witnessing. Irrespective to which forms of celebration you prefer, I believe that we are all paying respect in our own ways to the beauty that is before us.

Its time to make our way down. Its pitch black out, all we have is our head lamps and the wind just picked up intensity. The footing is uneasy and uncertain, that plus the gusty wind, I am now having a hard time not getting blown over. We gingerly make our way down and I am a little scared. FUCK! God I pray that I can make it down in one piece and not sustain serious injury. Everything is lose underfoot and you can hardly see. The wind keeps on blowing my bangs over my lamp, impairing what little visibility I have already. But this is no time to stop to put on a hat or anything as I am third in the line on the descent and there are many right behind.

35-45 sketchy scary minutes later, stumbling in the dark, never really sure if I am heading the right way, we finally reach base camp. THANK GOD! We make dinner with stars overhead and the lights of Guatemala city stretched out to our right. We watch the lava flow down the side of the volcano and the volcanic rocks breaking off, flying into the night. I change into dry warm clothes, snuggle down into my sleeping bad, snug as a bug and exclaim, ¨Öh I am so fucking happy right now!¨ ¨That is enough out of your tent!¨The Englishman shouts back at me!

This is by far the craziest thing I have ever done and I would HIGHLY recommend it to anyone with a sense of adventure. It is not for the faint of heart but it is FUCKING AMAZING!

Faith and those kinds of places

July 22, 2009

Antigua, Guatemala

Elevation 1500m



I don't have religion but I have faith. I think those two are very different things. I don't support most kinds of organized religions because well...needless to say, they can cause much trouble for many, on many different levels. Yet, I have been to places of worship for all different kinds of religion and faith, current and ancient. Why are we drawn to them, even if we do not subscribe to their point of view? Is it because its a piece of history? Is it because its beautifully crafted? Is it because we wish to understand what motivated those to kill, to preach, to save, to create, in the name of their god? I don't know...



Some days, I think of these places as places of faith and not as house of god. I think of these places as evidence that all of those who believe or would like to believe (irrespective to my differences to their particular belief.) Maybe that is why we are drawn to them. No matter how cynical we are, I think we would still like to believe in something, anything. Even if we only have conviction in the power of our cynicism and pragmatism, that is still faith in something.



* I would post pictures here but I am having much trouble w/ the PCs in town. I will try again later though.

Charlie Grosso

www.charliegrosso.com

310-592-0895

Pan American HWY

July 21, 2009
Antigua, Guatemala
Elevation 1500m

We are heading south east out of San Cristobal. We lose some elevation and gain a little temperature. On our bus, there is a family of 4, Europeans, but I am not sure what country they are from, and there is a group of 4 Spanish girls as well. Neither groups are really talking to anyone else. I guess when there is so many of you, there is no need to make friends with strangers. There is a young French couple, she is wearing all white (I don't understand woman who could wear all white), they have the naïve conviction that their love would last forever. I hope it does for them. Then there is me and a young Israeli who finished his service a couple of years ago, on the road, trying to forget. There is something off about him, like he is a little sketchy or maybe a little afraid, I can't quiet put my finger on it. Then again, if I were forced to join the military at 18, serve for 3 years in a region of the world where conflict is very real and daily, I am sure that there would be something off about me too.

A stamp in my passport, thanks visiting Mexico, another stamp in my passport (they all look at me funny as I am quickly running out of room in my passport here), welcome to Guatemala. Pink Martini's version of "bolero" ushers me into Guatemala.

There is always something interesting about boarder towns, its a little rough and it doesn't really resemble the country at all. Its like a tapestry that unravels at the edges, you are looking at threads and not the entire picture.

There are endless mountain ranges ahead. The PanAmerican HWY gently winds us from one set of mountains to another. The dogs are skinny, the kids are still tiny, the ethnic garbs change color and patterns, the buses are older but more colorful. There are still cows and goats and sheep who grazes along the road. There are woman weaving out on their porch. There is a kid who is relieving herself in her yard and waves me hello all at the same time. One of the many bonuses of traveling alone, you often get to ride shotgun.

We finally get to Lake Atitlan, it is gorgeous (we will be back here in a few days)! Its late in the day and the mountain tops are covered by cloud and mist, all the while, mists surrounds the lake. I wish this was my destination tonight, but at last, I have another 2 hours head until Antigua.

There are a few brothels along the road, there are plenty of people walking in the dark. I see 4 school girls walking, each with a guitar in their hands. I think to myself, if they are gonna start a girl band, they might need a rhythm section as well.

Welcome to the PanAmerican highway. Welcome to Antigua.

Charlie Grosso

www.charliegrosso.com

310-592-0895