Havana Punk
Havana. Cuba. 2010

Nothing has changed since Fidel resigned. I was told the situation is worse in many aspects. Raul is not a politician like his brother. He has a military background, and this affects his government, which from many points of view is more conservative. At the same time, things are moving slowly in Cuba, particularly in Havana. For Cubans this is a period of “waiting”. People know that something is going to happen, although not in the short term. In this social environment the best way to catch these early changes is by observing young people. They meet in groups, looking for identity, like many others across the world.
There are a few places where these teens gather, both in the city and in the suburbs. There, they dance, perform, and organize concerts and competitions. I’m not referring to famous Cuban artists, musicians, dancers or intellectuals, but to everyday kids. I witnessed great social dissatisfaction and desire for change. Teens do not talk much about politics, but it is clear they understand the Revolution has failed them in the long run. They just want to be like other young people overseas.

Coney Island
New York. United States. 2010

It wasn’t my first time on Coney Island. Strolling along the beach, I enjoyed the famous Parachute Jump, the Wonder Wheel, The Cyclone and of course, the hot dogs. But this time, something new grabbed my attention: trash cans. Standing still, a brigade of trashcans looked like armored soldiers lined up in form on the boardwalk. As I examined them closer, I noticed these weren't of the average tin can variety. The trash cans wore distinct uniforms -a mix of colors, textures and patterns, each one different from the other. In their amazing outfits, they preserve our trash, giving us a glimpse of today's habits and taste.

Mumbai Breath
Mumbai. India. 2010

Mumbai was my home for two months in early 2010. It was my first time in India. I was told that Mumbai has changed dramatically in the last 15 years. In some cases, it is unrecognizable. Nevertheless Mumbai is considered to be the city of hope for the thousands who go there every day from all over India. Wandering into the city, I wanted to discover Mumbai by meeting its people. I found their everyday rituals coexisting with the city’s chaotic development. I felt Mumbai breathing, consuming and growing at every moment, like a huge organism.

Schizophrenic
Mumbai. India. 2010

Scene 1: I find myself in a mental hospital. I’m surrounded by dozens of patients. I’m living through something I would have never imagined to experience.
Scene 2: There's this man. His name is Dr. V., he is visiting one of the patients. The diagnosis is schizophrenia.
Scene 3: I just met new friends. No dialogue is possible, but I feel a deep connection with them. Their eyes speak to me in a language I’m able to understand.
Scene 4: I am in the country, in the village of K. At least a two hour drive from M. It’s so quiet here compared to the big chaotic city.
Scene 5: I feel at home now. My mates are playing soccer. I’m going to join them.
Scene 6: I’m leaving. On my way back home. I know I’ll miss K. and my friends.

Epilogue: The Shraddha Rehabilitation Foundation is a non-profit organization, based in Karjat near Mumbai. Its mission is to take care of the mentally-ill roadside destitute, living off the streets of India. The activities are being conducted on an absolutely free basis. www.shraddharehabilitationfoundation.org

Parque Central
Tegucigalpa. Honduras. 2009

I went to Honduras to cover the last months of the military coup before the elections. The Popular Resistance, opposed to the ousting of Manuel Zelaya, consists of people from all walks of life. On the day of the congressional vote to decide if the deposed president could be restored to office, the Popular Resistance had gathered at the Parque Central in Tegucigalpa. While the congressional assembly decided on Zelaya's fate, his supporters in the park demonstrated with passion, and tense anticipation. The portraits here are the face of this movement -a diverse group of people united by hope.
The congressional assembly voted to stand by the decision made on June 28, 2009 to depose Zelaya. Only 14 members voted for his return. The resistance is still active, waiting for the next elections.

Scylla
Reggio Calabria. Italy. 2009

I was in Reggio Calabria, in the toe of Italy, for the first time in the summer of 2009, when I was invited by a friend of mine. Reggio Calabria is considerd to be the stronghold of the Calabrian mafia ‘Ndrangheta. I found the region exciting because of it's beautiful landscape and historical culture. At the same time, I discoverd that this unique environment has been defiled. This made me think of the mythological monster Scylla, a grotesque sea monster. It lived on the Calabrian side of the Straits of Messina, facing its nemesis, Charybdis. The phrase "between Scylla and Charybdis" is a metaphor for a state of being caught between two inescapable dangers. Today, Scylla could be imagined as the ‘Ndrangheta, which is involved among many other illegal activities, in the waste management and construction industries. In Reggio Calabria, corrupt practices have led to illegal, hazardous, and hasty shortcuts in waste and trash disposal and issuance of building construction licenses. The city has been transformed by pollution and countless illegal, unfinished buildings. The ‘Ndrangheta blends into communities and conducts operations in stealth. Yet, its effect is real. The power of this modern-day Scylla is strong, casting grey shadows onto the daily lives of the local people.

Carnet de Santé
Nanoro. Burkina Faso. 2008

I traveled to Burkina Faso in 2008. It’s a poor, small, land-locked country in Western Africa. The majority of Burkina’s population lives in villages isolated from the capital and government assistance. While there, I traveled to Nanoro, one of these villages.
In Nanoro, I stayed at the St. Camille Hospital, collaborating with an Italian NGO. I witnessed death on a daily basis from malaria, malnutrition, HIV and viral meningitis, among other maladies. More arresting, I discovered a quiet and resigned acceptance of death among people too tired to fight or carry hope. I myself contracted malaria there, and for a few days was able to see through the perceptual lens of these villagers. In the darkness of suffering, the care and dedication of the staff at St. Camille Hospital shone a ray of hope to the people of Nanoro. www.madiro.it

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