As wrestlers, “everyone’s dream is the same,” said Anjali. “But each one of us has a different plan for when we leave this place.”

“Friendship is everything for us,” said Anjali Pawar, 16. “You can’t go through a single day here without the support of friends.”

Some of the girls at Yudhveer continue to attend school outside, but most of them finish their academic coursework remotely and only ever leave the academy to participate in district, state or national competitions. So for the five to 10 years they spend in training, aside from their coaches — who also act as their de facto guardians while they’re at Yudhveer — they have only each other.

“Had we not come here, our lives would have been very different,” said Siksha Kharb, above, a 16-year-old girl from a farming family in Sonipat. If she weren’t wrestling, she said, “I would drop out of school to be married off.”

As the winter sun ascends over a mustard farm, pale orange bleeding into sharp yellow, a line of 36 girls all dressed alike — T-shirts, track pants, crew cuts — emerges into an open field, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Under a tin shed, they sit on their haunches, bent over stone mortars. For the next 20 minutes, they crush raw almonds into a fine paste, straining out a bottle of nut milk. They will need it to regain their strength.

For Adrian, the photographer, Sarapes “feels like a representation of Mexico but in this suburban Connecticut town,” taking “all of what my family brought to the U.S. and then putting it in a physical space through the food, the music, the decorations.” He spent years struggling with questions of identity but, much like the restaurant, has come to embrace the blend of his heritage — “neither completely American nor fully Mexican, and really just this hybrid of all these things I’ve learned about and experienced.”

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“The people at Sarapes definitely feel like family to you,” said Ivy. “They accept you as one of their own like it’s nothing.”

“My cousin called it ‘the headquarters’ because that’s where we would always meet to talk about stuff,” Xochitl said.

When Ivy Berubes, 22, orders a Shirley Temple at the Sarapes Mexican Restaurant bar, they make it for her even though it’s not on the menu. The menu also doesn’t list “The Tommy Bowl” — a deconstructed burrito — but Tommy Agramonte, 20, gets to order it; after all, it is named after him. Sade Guess, 21, swears by the birria tacos, another off-menu item

grown in just two years to more than 90 young people from all over Nigeria, ranging in age from their late teens to mid-20s, who are part of the collective’s WhatsApp group and take part in in-person events, including thrifting expeditions to the market

Finding a bargain is like scouring a beach for buried treasure.

These skaters, often clad in a uniform of baggy pants and crop tops, head to the market to go thrifting each week. They’re armed with fashion knowledge only the young, fun and determined can possess and seek out the best streetwear they can find

If you’re lucky, you might find a vintage jacket you’ve been searching for, or a pair of long-lasting Levi’s jeans

At the bustling Yaba Market in Lagos, Nigeria, there is something for everyone.