On holidays and weekends, there isn’t a town square in the countryside that isn’t visited by a culebrero a sort of traveling magician, entertainer, and salesman. On this Saturday, not far from the coffee fields we toured during the previous week, it’s not even noon and the square is crowded with people. There is no place to park trucks, motorcycles, and cars fill all of the spaces across the square, and they even park in front of the nearby church. It’s a cool and sunny morning, a perfect setting for the magical realism that we’re experiencing. Families holding small children by the hand cross the street, almost filling it completely from one side to the other. Affectionate youngsters stroll about with their dates. Grandfathers reminisce about when they, too, ran around the square on weekends and winked at the señoritas who strolled down the opposite sidewalk with their mothers.

The grandmothers, on the other hand, sit with their grandchildren the boys well groomed and the girls with braided hair and bows introducing the children to their community where, one day soon, they will create their own lives. You see all kinds of people: some stroll peacefully and others are surprised; the youngest are bored, and the elderly are grateful for everything that life has given them, including these moments right here on the square. Above the noise of the large crowd, we hear a voice that is noticeably louder than everyone else’s. We get closer and, for the first time, meet the culebrero face to face. At his feet is a box full of colorful stones. He wears a two strand necklace of indigenous stones with an animal fang hanging in the center. His wavy, chestnut hair is covered by a modern blue-and-white bandana, and the rest of his outfit is like anyone else’s a sleeveless shirt and faded jeans.