Lords Of Atitlan

Three years ago my friend Ursula asked me, "If you really want your photography to document the culture, lives, and beauty of the Maya, then why don`t you take photos of mothers breast-feeding their babies? It`s everywhere,” she said. Of course, she was right: in the back of every pick-up truck, every bus, in every field, with women washing clothing, weaving, gathering or carrying firewood, or buying or selling in the market; everywhere: breast-feeding. I responded that I thought breast-feeding was a private affair between mother and child which I had no right to invade. I left congratulating myself that my answer was a good one. I even retold the antecdote a few times in self-satisfied manner convinced of my correctness.But, of course, I was wrong.

My attitude soon changed.

August 15 is the principal day of the feria of Sololá, the most colorful event of my photographic year. To the entire Catholic world it is the feast day of the Virgin of Asunción (the patroness of the city of Sololá). Day or night, rain or shine, I walk with the processions. Once at a pause in the procession that day, a cofrada of the cofradía (religious brotherhood) of San Antonio asked me to take a photo of her seated in front of the Saint next to her antique incense burner. She was nursing her baby girl while her 8 or 9 year-old son smiled on. Her expression was rapture. Later, when I gave her her photos, she cried. Breast-feeding and motherhood have been photographic themes of mine ever since. The tenderness between the Mayan mother and her child is compelling. The Mayan mother loves these photos dearly too, and she approaches my camera without reservation or reproach; to the contrary, with pride. There is no stigma to breast-feeding in highland Guatemala. It`s part of the culture.

What one notices first about Mayan children is that they rarely cry. When an infant does so, the reason is obvious, and his cries are quickly quelled. Beyond infancy, however, children rarely cry. Mayan babies go with their mothers everywhere, wrapped on mother`s back in long rectangular perrajes (rebozos) or square tzutes of woven cloth. They accompany their mothers to the fields to plant onions. They go with their mothers to gather firewood in the mountains, to fetch water in the lakeshore, and to wash clothing in the public pila. From their mothers` backs, babies meet the market with all of its sights and smells and vibrancy. From the vantage point and security of perraje or tzute, they see the world and participate in adult conversation. I have seen a child of one mimicking her mother picking coffee, two year-olds washing onions, and two or three year-old girls washing clothing in a stream or the lakeshore. Children participate at an early age in the sustenance and economy of their families and are generally loving and well-adjusted. I laud the Mayan method of motherhood.