As we drove through town, I was struck by how different Santa Fe was compared to Chicago. The city was very small, with buildings that looked to be made of mud and streets that went every which way. The women dressed flamboyantly, and the men wore cowboy boots and hats. It was like being in a foreign country. We met Bernice’s parents for lunch, and after saying hello, I scanned the menu and realized it was more Mexican food. I ordered my chile on the side, remembering Juan’s suggestion, and when my food came I was disappointed to find it was still too hot to eat. I picked at my meal, all while watching Bernice’s parents interact with her aunt, who seemed less opinionated today and easier to be around. I was drowsy on the ride back to the ranch. I thought I had gotten used to the elevation but still felt a little lightheaded. When Grace parked the car, I opened my eyes and saw Juan and Alejandro standing outside. “Wake up, sleepy head,”
