Taken on 26th August, 2009 in Finca Santa Inés, San José Pinula, Guatemala. Nikon D90, Exposure 4s at f/4.0, Focal Length 18mm, ISO Speed 1600. Show on Flickr.

An insurance broker makes his way home from Guatemala City at the end of a long day in the office.

Approaching the entrance to the country estate in darkness, his chauffeur honks the horn and the gate swings open.

Eleazar lives in opulent luxury in a house overlooking his expansive property. Crystal chandeliers adorn the living areas; marble horse busts sit atop faux-romanesque stands; portraits of his ancestors decorate the walls, tracing his proud European lineage.

Tonight he sleeps soundly between fresh sheets, aided by the comfortable weight of a few after-dinner whiskeys.

Downhill a timber stable is home to eight horses and two teenage boys. Manuel and Jose share a store room with various farm implements. The breeze creeps through gaps in the walls and water drips through holes in the metal roof.

They wake early to begin work and have already been busy for an hour cleaning the stables when Eleazar's chauffeur-driven car passes en route to Guatemala City at 7AM. Today, like every day, they work from 6AM to 8PM. In return they receive their bed, 3 meals of rice and beans, and 40 Quetzales (about ?3.40). Jose pushes through the day in the knowledge that this weekend he will get paid and have his fortnightly day off?he will visit his mother and bring her some money. Manuel keeps his mind occupied forming checkers' strategies for the games we will play, and he will win, later.

After work they sit with us outside our living quarters, which are rustic but better than the stable. We play checkers and cards, chat and joke, share vegetables for their evening meal so they might get more nourishment.

We talk about the possibility of returning to school. Manuel, 17, wants to finish secondary; Jose, 18, still needs to learn to read and write. School is expensive and they've little free time from work, but they are both saving.

Manuel's phone rings. He answers and listens disdainfully. After hanging up he curses the instructions but, even after his 14 hour work day, seems resigned to servitude.

He leaves us and heads into the darkness, descending to open the front gate for the returning broker.