Leonard Reyes Photographer

Mae Bouakham, one of the few remaining master weavers in Laos, prepares a new piece made from silk. Depending on the complexity of the design, it can take up to 2 months to complete one. A child of farmers in Xiengkhouang in Northern Laos, Bua grew up surrounded by weavers in her family and community. At 6 years old, Bua secretly started learning to use the loom while her parents were away in the fields, leaving her to take care of her younger sibling. Her mother eventually mentored her on the craft and she has practically been weaving her whole life.

Weaving as a livelihood is on the wane in Laos, as often, unscrupulous middlemen buy the products at a very low price, only to resell it to upscale markets and foreign buyers, making it increasingly untenable as source of income.

Content Warning: Images contain graphic depictions of ritual self-flagellation and blood.

(Guimba, Nueva Ecija) During Semana Santa (Holy Week) in the Philippines, penitents engage in extreme acts of devotion rooted in local Catholicism and folk tradition, believing that physical sacrifice allows them to share in the suffering of Jesus Christ. Hooded and often dressed in red or white, devotees strike their backs with bamboo sticks or leather whips—sometimes cutting their skin to draw blood. Despite discouragement from church authorities, crucifixion reenactments in San Pedro Cutud, Pampanga, attract tourists. Other acts of devotion include walking barefoot through communities, carrying heavy crosses over long distances, or crawling on knees and stomachs across hot, rough pavement; however, the Catholic Church in the Philippines opposes these practices of self-harm, emphasizing that true repentance should be expressed through charity and prayer rather than extreme physical pain.

Content Warning: Images contain graphic depictions of ritual self-flagellation and blood. Spending the holy week holiday in my hometown (a farming municipality 3 hours north of the capital), I set out to document the annual "penitensya", extreme acts of devotion rooted in local Catholicism and folk tradition. This ritual acts of devotion are performed in the belief that physical sacrifice allows them to share in the suffering of Jesus Christ. Not knowing where to begin, I drove around town and was lucky enough to spot the tell-tale crowds awaiting the passing of penitents in the town streets. The air was electric with anticipation; perhaps part of it was morbid fascination of watching blood drawn from bare, lacerated flesh with whips fashioned from bamboo sticks, applied to one's back with an almost trance-like vigor. Sure enough, the penitensya arrived on the intersection not long after. A dozen or so already bloodied, hooded and shirtless men, wearing symbolic crowns and belts of thorns, led by the "Kristo", the designated penitent carrying a roughly hewn wooden cross. They walk barefoot on the hot pavements, stopping at designated stations of the cross and then lie on their stomachs on the street in the scorching heat; more lacerations are made on their backs with razor blades. This is repeated across several stations. The practice is centuries old, a fusion of colonial Catholicism and local belief that physical suffering can mirror Christ’s passion. The Philippine Catholic Church has repeatedly condemned it. True repentance, the bishops insist, belongs to prayer and mercy, not to public mortification. But doctrine rarely reaches the street. Here, under the merciless summer sun, the men keep their vows. They do not perform for the crowd. They simply bear it. (Part 1 of 2). #DocumentaryPhotography #FaithAndDevotion #SemanaSantaPH #HolyWeekPhilippines #GuimbaNuevaEcija

A woman fishing at dusk. Vientiane, Laos.