Portfolios > Batopilas

On the bus from Juarez to Chihuahua I met a couple of Americans. One was a doctor and the other a unitarian minister. Both spoke Spanish and knew their way around Mexico. They invited me to join them on a walk about in the Barranca del Cobre. We walked and walked - slow not fast. We visited with locals. Drank Mescal. Had intense conversations. The unitarian minister was doubting the existence of God. My life was profoundly changed. I returned to the Barranca del Cobre six years later. I brought prints of the photographs I took during the previous visit. Trust was enhanced. The locals became even more warm and open. Something good happened in the Barranca del Cobre.