Burglar Bars, Abandoned Lane

This little Central American town was similar to many we passed through before it – chaotic, diesel-powered, and roasting under a brutal inland tropical sun. Here was the third world we had come to see: a picture of human beings flourishing in tough times, happier and healthier than many in the money-bloated West.

Our cheap concrete hotel room provided no relief from the temperatures. A downstairs bakery sent even more heat through the concrete floor, making it hotter inside than out. Delivery vehicles with jury-rigged engines echoed through the alleyway like so many jackhammers. Sleep was impossible until well past closing time.

I made this photograph while standing, slightly disillusioned, at the window to the alley. I found myself attracted to the glow of the afternoon sunlight on the stained, painted concrete. I liked the layers I saw through my camera very much, the transition from decrepitude to some distant Shangri-La. I liked how even the discarded and abandoned, the chaotic and the hopeless, can seem very beautiful from the perfect place at the perfect time.