My travel companion was my two year old Atticus (a man of few words) who surprised me by declaring enthusiastically: "Mexicooooo" as he looked out the window in wonder. No, we weren't headed to some coastal gated community or beachside all-inclusive. We had touched down in central Mexico.
I am in a remote village on the Pacific coast of Colombia. One road leads in and out, extending as far as the next village. This is my second time here. A year ago, had I been told someone was shot, I would have panicked. This year, I brush it off.