Barrerito es una serie documental en desarrollo que retrata a un grupo de niños en la frontera.
En 2010 llegué por primera vez. Un pequeño paraje rural en la provincia de Misiones, a tres kilómetros de la costa del Río Uruguay, frontera que separa Argentina de Brasil. Tenía 22 años.
Con los chicos de Barrerito jugamos, trepamos árboles, cosechamos pitangas, montamos bueyes, miramos los autos que pasan por la ruta. Cruzamos arroyos en ruedas de camión. Caminamos, comemos moras o nísperos del árbol que encontramos. Casi siempre hace calor y llueve. La tierra colorada, la humedad de la selva misionera. La lluvia, que llega inesperada y es siempre feroz. Y después el sol desconcertante y de vuelta ese calor húmedo que moja las ropas y cala en los huesos.
En estos diez años que llevo fotografiándolos crecimos juntos. Les enseñé a sacar fotos y ellos me enseñaron el tiempo en la naturaleza.
Juntos aprendimos que la inocencia no dura para siempre.
Barrerito is a documental series in development that portrays a group of children at the border.
I visited Barrerito for the first time in 2010. A small rural area in Misiones Province, three kilometers from the coast of the Uruguay River, the border that separates Argentina from Brazil. I was 22 years old.
From the first trip I sleep in the school of the colony. A mattress in the principal’s office becomes my home after five in the afternoon. With the sound of the Urutaú (ghost bird) the day ends and with the first voices of the boys who arrive early to class I wake up.
A community with two languages like all those that inhabit the borders. The traditions of both countries merge in this place and the boundaries dissolve in a new way that only they share.
With the kids we play, climb trees, harvest «pitangas» (Surinam cherries), we ride oxen, watch the cars that pass along the road. We cross streams on truck wheels, I watch them slaughter a cow they will later sell. The school bell rings and we walk together to their homes, eat some blackberries or medlars from the trees we find on the way. It is almost always hot and it rains. We share breakfasts, school breaks, football matches on the field.
In these ten years that I have been photographing them we grew up together. I taught them to take pictures and they taught me the freedom to live surrounded by nature.
Together we learned that innocence doesn’t last forever.