On a January morning, we arrived in the village exactly the way we would do over and over again: on a packed local bus, squeezed in between a voluminous old lady holding a live turkey on her lap and a young tall man, whose sombrero and cowboy boots gave him a close resemblance to the Lone Ranger.

My partner Elisa Veini was destined to do field research in a Central Mexican village called Yecapixtla. We were not the first foreigners to have visited the village, but we were the only ones who decided to settle there. With the kind help of a few locals, we found a vacant house in the backyard of a pizzeria. It did not take long before everyone knew us, and we knew at least the key figures for our temporary Mexican existence.

The village was famous for its meat production and a weekly cattle market was held just outside the centre. The village was also known for its Easter ceremonies, extended to last three whole weeks and including fireworks at five ‘o clock every morning. Besides all this, we took a special interest in observing the villagers’ refusal to be totally absorbed in the rapid transformation from a rural to a semi-urban society.

For me, this was my first step into documentary photography. I loved it.