In the second annual Latin American Foto festival, on view at the Bronx Documentary Center in New York, a range of photographers from throughout the Caribbean and Latin America will exhibit their varied and vibrant work until 21 July
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Fred Ramos, El Salvador
A Honduran child plays near train tracks in Arriaga, Chiapas, in southern Mexico, October 2018
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Christopher Gregory, Puerto Rico
Ruta del Progreso traces a decrepit road running through the mountainous and isolated center of Puerto Rico. It was built for Puerto Ricans to enjoy the great outdoors and connect with the poorest and most ‘traditional’ parts of the island
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Christopher Gregory, Puerto Rico
The road was the dream of the first popularly elected governor of the island in the postwar boom. This dream was to lift a country out of poverty and into modernity through infrastructure and social programs. But did progress actually come to these areas, and what does progress mean in a place that is neither the master of its destiny nor an equal part of the union?
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Andrés Cardona, Colombia
Andrés Cardona: ‘Absence is feeling alone in the midst of many, it is the lack of something or someone of which you have only few memories. It is the being that was but now only remains in memory’
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Andrés Cardona, Colombia
Andrés Cardona: ‘Dreaming drowned is a recurring dream of my childhood. I lived in a small house with three rooms, we were five people and in my dream were the bodies of my family drowned’
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Fabiola Ferrero, Venezuela
A farmer stands behind a plastic curtain in Portuguesa state, Venezuela, November 2017. Part of the project Blurred in Despair
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Fabiola Ferrero, Venezuela
Two members of the militia, a ‘defense group’ created by the late president Hugo Chávez, during the commemoration of the third anniversary of his death, in Caracas, Venezuela, on 5 March 2017. Part of the project Blurred in Despair
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Yael Martínez V, Mexico
La casa que sangra (autorretrato con mi hija y la presencia de un ahorcado) Guerrero, Mexico, 2013 (The house that bleeds. Self-portrait with my daughter and the presence of a hanging man)
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Yael Martínez V, Mexico
Yael Martínez V : ‘Photos on the wall of Perla Granda’s (my sister-in-law) bedroom of her missing brothers. She is 14 years old, she is in high school. She lives with her mother and her sister Sandra at Taxco.’
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Citlali Fabián, Mexico
Citlali Fabián: ‘I come from an indigenous family that, like many others, left their village in search of a better life. I grew up in the city far from my own culture, riddled by my own parents in an attempt to protect me from the stigma that my skin color can not deny’
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Johis Alarcón
, Ecuador Karen Villalba, 23 years old. Anthropologist student and a black woman activist part of Addis Ababa representing Elegua, one of the principal orishas of black culture
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Johis Alarcón, Ecuador
Nicole Carcelén, 19, plays with a cotton plant in her hair. The black slaves who first came to Ecuador were forced to work in cotton fields, cane fields and coal mines. For Carcelén, cotton plants represent the strength of her ancestors and the strength of their blood
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Yael Martínez V, Mexico
Scene of the wedding of Abel (he has three missing brothers) Acapulco is considered one of the world’s most dangerous cities and the colonias, or impoverished neighborhoods are among the city’s most violent areas
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Fred Ramos, El Salvador
Members of the migrant caravan in a shelter in Juchitán, Oaxaca, Mexico, October 2018
![Fabiola Ferrero, Venezuela[Left] A cemetery in Portuguesa State, Venezuela. [Right] A farmer stands behind a plastic curtain in Portuguesa State, Venezuela. November 2017. Part of the project Blurred in Despair.](https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/7ea627d60236a25d178f86d28e1d2b42e3840484/0_0_2000_1505/master/2000.jpg?width=1010&quality=45&auto=format&fit=max&dpr=2&s=f5188d9a97a0c8f1da65b97caf8bfcab)
