PORTRAIT - FACES OF MEXICO

On a very recent trip to Mexico, I fell in love with the people. Mexico, like Canada, is comprised of different socioeconomic demographics. Often, the nicest people are the ones who have not been altered by the materialistic drive most of us have in Canada.
Even in their relative poverty, many of the people I encountered were genuine, kind, and loving. They were open to having me photograph them when it was determined that I wasn't a threat. Often however, they shied away from the camera, unwilling to be the subject in an often negatively portrayed message. I tried to make them aware that my intentions were honourable and that I wouldn't abuse the privilege of seeing them through my lens.
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I encountered this wonderful lady when I was traveling with my fiancee and her mom through the mountains, heading from Oaxaca City, to Mazunte. In this 7 hour drive up and then down the mountain roads, in stomach churning twists and turns, our small mini-bus hugged the road with one tire constantly inches away from the cliff edge, making the ride an experience of existential proportions, something these hardy locals consider normal. The thought of eating during this 7 hour rollercoaster ride, was not a thought I wanted to entertain; similarly I could not sleep because my eyes were glued to the window with terror but also with appreciation for the landscape. Speeding along on wet roads cut out of the rainforest above the clouds, had the effect of aesthetic humility.

At one of our few, quick stops, I stepped out of the bus to stretch my tight, tension-filled muscles, when this lady came up with pears in hand, wanting to sell them to the passengers. Immediately I noticed her gentle kindness and I admired her simple, weathered beauty. It reminded me of my youth in Greece, seeing the many faces in the market and the workers my grandparents hired during the olive picking season, even the weathered look my grandmother had right before her passing. There was something very familiar in the way she moved, smiled, and it made me happy.
My fiancee told me to photograph her, and proceeded to ask her if she was willing. She handed the lady a couple of coins and explained that we didn’t want the pairs but I could take her photo?
Even in her poverty, I could tell she was hesitant in accepting payment for nothing tangible exchanged, but my smile confirmed that I wasn’t a threat and the payment was a token gesture of appreciation.
I took three photos and thanked her, when she said something I didn’t catch but I smiled and nodded anyway. My fiancee reacted first, before others on the bus, who were seeing all this unfold.
“She said she’s ugly, and doesn’t understand why you wanted to take her photo”.
I was saddened to think that this poor, wonderful soul felt this way. I was already leaning in to do it when I heard my fiancee say “hug her”. I opened my arms wide, and said “Bella”. She was hesitant in her approach but hugged me, thanking me. I held her and I could feel her body relax in my arms. I wish I could hug her again and give her this photo.

I didn’t get her name, the bus was leaving and I had to get back on it.

Photo: © SPIRO / Photographer

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