photo
la grama
diageo & jonny walker
I was finishing school when the curriculum required us to begin part-time college. I signed up for a photography course tucked away in the back of what is now Corriente Alterna, an art school that was just opening its doors. The photography lab was the seed of a career that never fully bloomed. I arrived armed with a Pentax Asahi, a hand-me-down from my Aunt Delfina, fitted with a humble 28mm lens.
Classes were led by Luz María Bedoya, the older sister of my school friend Rodrigo. She had just returned from her studies in San Francisco, carrying with her a fresh, experimental perspective. She introduced us to cyanotypes and the surreal qualities of Kodalith. I was captivated, she completly gpt me. We developed negatives on fiber paper and even stones—an experience for a sixteen-year-old. That year was my last living at home, and I spent much of it photographing my younger brother—him pointing me over a handmade paper stars background. I miss those days.
diageo & jonny walker
Years later, after working as a photojoutnalist, I returned to Lima on business and stumbled upon an unexpected opportunity to Work as añ art director. Pocho Cáceres, a long time food photographer, invited me to assist him on some shoots. It was the first time I stepped away from the camera for a while. Observing , I began to understand how things work out of the frame.
Rodrigo Bedoya, knew I was back in Lima and extended an invitation to visit a project he was leading in the central jungle of Peru. It was an offer to pick my camera back. Near Satipo, in a village called Pichanaki, Bedoya and two university friends had spent the last decade harvesting ginger and turmeric from the hillside farms. Today, Pichanaki feels like Peru’s own Springfield—everyone seems to be connected to La Grama, the agricultural trading hub they built from the ground up. This traders know the worth of their people. They take care of them, and the community takes care of the land in return.
diageo & jonny walker
Five years ago, they began a biodynamic farm as a side project. Guided by the lunar calendar, the farm cultivates in harmony between animals, plants, and soil. Compost becomes the living foundation of a circular, sustainable system. The result? Ginger that sells in Berlin supermarkets at more than ten times the local Price.
On the corner of the main plaza, a long line of locals waits for crispy chicharrón with mote and some generous just chopped fresh onions mixed with yerba buena. This area of the jungle—reaching toward Chanchamayo—is complex and raw. It’s a land fighting back against illegal mining and deforestation, carving a new identity through innovation in agriculture and resilencia through community.
I picked up a camera twice in my life—both times, thanks to the Bedoya family. Im talking pictures back again and happy of doing it for 30 years.
