Why‪.‬

It was the beginning of the rainy season, and the sopping summer clouds that shrouded the peaks above the Purepecha pueblo of Santa Fe de la Laguna in the highlands of central Michoacan, Mexico, vented cool draughts of air, making the citrus trees in the courtyard quiver. Sitting stiffly beside me, Mateo--a small, solidly built young man with soft, brown eyes, a shy, white smile, and a nature that was enduringly sweet--projected a conflicted air of trepidation and resolve. We exchanged pleasantries for several minutes and then fell silent, the moment for the interview to begin having arrived quite naturally. "Listos?" I asked, turning to Mateo. "Are we ready?"