March Volunteer Work in Raxuhá, Guatemala 2011

Arriving in Guatemala always seems to me as a time-altering landing some centuries past - when the dust kicked up from dirt roads trails behind the walker like constant exhalation of smoke puffs; when the roosters cackle nightly in juxtaposition with yipping dogs; where colors are so intensely vibrant they make your eyes hurt; when people carry loads on their heads, backs or strapped to their foreheads typically destined for pack mules or horses; where travelling a few miles to the nearest well or river is where precious liquid silver, water, is drawn.