Every day during fieldwork at Tzacauil, at the eastern edge of the Yaxuná ejido (collective agricultural landholding) we stopped for breakfast at 9:30 a.m. At the start of the season this usually meant a granola bar for me, and pozole for the local Yucatec Maya men who worked with me.
But over the course of the season, I was more and more frequently invited to eat with the men. At the same time, the food they brought out to the site, prepared in the pre-dawn hours by their wives, became increasingly elaborate. Their generosity was boundless. The granola bars were left forgotten in my backpack.
I started documenting these shared meals with my cell phone and this photography soon became a regular part of our daily ritual. For me these images communicate the side of fieldwork that rarely makes it into the publications: the conversations, friendships, and community that formed over months of working - and eating - together.
My gratitude goes out to the men and women of Yaxunah for sharing their food with me.
But over the course of the season, I was more and more frequently invited to eat with the men. At the same time, the food they brought out to the site, prepared in the pre-dawn hours by their wives, became increasingly elaborate. Their generosity was boundless. The granola bars were left forgotten in my backpack.
I started documenting these shared meals with my cell phone and this photography soon became a regular part of our daily ritual. For me these images communicate the side of fieldwork that rarely makes it into the publications: the conversations, friendships, and community that formed over months of working - and eating - together.
My gratitude goes out to the men and women of Yaxunah for sharing their food with me.
