Inspired by a long journey through the Pampa of the Atacama Desert, experiencing the voice of its living wind that shouts part of a story that was left in the sand, howling with pain, I begin my third project: From Salitre to Iquique.

With the presence of the pampinos, who more than a hundred years ago were one with the aridity of their land, I shared an afternoon with them in the Huara Cemetery, I immersed myself in their past and anchored myself in those events that are a relevant part of the history of our country, a history that remains without memory.

In the cemetery of Huara are the bones of the saltpeter miners, intermingled with those of their children and women, at ground level, thus demonstrating the total indifference and lack of respect for those men who were a significant part of a moment in the history of our country.

To assume our history is to take charge of each of the events that constitute us, with their lights and shadows.