Los Perros de Copán

Yesterday it finally struck me. The urge. The urge to photograph. Like I knew it would. I walked around the town, trying to capture the sense of it, the feeling, the inner being. As doing so I came across with a problem. The major part of the true being of this town, are its people, and their homes; The children playing on the streets, moms carrying their babies, old women sitting on side of the road, men in their macho behavioral.

But, doesn’t photographing these people, their children and homes, make me an ignorant tourist, disrespectful of locals and their culture? Of course I can ask permission, but every photographer knows that the minute permission is asked, the picture loses its authenticity. It becomes a pose, a fake picture of a fake moment. But does capturing an authentic moment give me the right to compromise morality of a photographer? I find myself inclined not to compromise.

So, in the midst of these thoughts, I realized that there is a very fascinating part of this town that nobody would mind me photographing. This piece of town is always visible, always present and always interesting. The dogs.

The dogs are everywhere. They come in every color, size and character. Some are timid, some are curious, some are sweet, some are bold. I’m intrigued by their stories, which I am never to find out. But in their eyes I can see they have a story.

My mission for this week is to photograph the dogs of Copán. Hopefully my week will be successful.

There are some other things I would like to share with you about Honduras, but I am not quite sure what and how. This country is so different from many others I’ve been to. It makes me feel at peace but also sad. It’s a culture much different from mine, where possibilities are lacking and future, especially for women, is uncertain.

It’s a country where people very openly claim to be Christians but yet real Christian behavioral is not visible. It’s a country where Christianity for women means submitting to their husbands, which again means being a prisoner in their own house. Mostly married women are not allowed to leave home, they must stay and attend children, house chores and all other needs of their husbands, while men, in their macho way, go running around with mistresses. And a woman without a husband is looked down upon.

It’s Europe couple hundred years ago.

Of course not every person, every family or every place in Honduras is like this. But it is a huge part of the culture, of the country. Once again, it’s about money and education. No education, no possibilities of making it any better.

What did I ever do to deserve to be born in Finland? Had I been born here, I would be just another sad woman, locked in my home with kids and most likely a macho, unfaithful husband. Or I could be a single mother, left by my husband who found a younger girl to play with.

Cynical? I don’t think so. Just come here and see.

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

- Jim Elliot