Outside our hotel, by the sidewalk, 9:00am sharp, our driver waiting for us. Roberto, an eighteen-year old, telling the same stories he’s been told by his dad, of the land he calls home. He knows this route, he’s taken it quite a few times now, you can tell by the way he drives through it. He knows it by heart. We make a pit stop halfway to get some snacks and local goods such as mennonite cheese at a grocery store in the city of Cuauhtemoc, west of Chihuahua city.
Roberto had told us Menonnite settlers completely transformed this desolate areas of semi-arid scrubland into actual prosperous land, where they started a colony. We were on our way again, windows down, slightly cool wind on our faces.