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Route 16 (MEX)

It was our first time in the north of our country. So vast and rich, different from our home in the south.

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.

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.

We were past Cuauhtemoc, and into San Juanito’s town only for a split second. Entire families out in the street buying groceries, friends meeting up in the middle of the road and stray dogs making their way on the streets owning the place. As soon as we were out of there, the scenery started changing. The forest grew thicker and the mountains started closing in slowly as we arrived to the home of the Raramuri culture high up in the Sierra.

Entire families out in the street buying groceries, friends meeting up in the middle of the road and stray dogs making their way on the streets owning the place.

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