We got a flat tire outside the bakery. A couple of men who were out front when it happened (we ran into a piece of rebar that was sticking out of a piece of concrete at the curb) and some kids jumped into action. The older man threw the tire in the back of his pickup and said he'd get it fixed. We waited in chairs out front, sweating, eating pastry, and checking out the dusty street, including the sprung chair, decorative grille, and (not in the pictures) a rooster, a dog on a roof, and a man who rode up in a cart with bike chains rigged to pedals he could operate with his hands. He came for pastries. The man who took our tire turned out to be the bakery's Papa (that's what everyone there called him). He came back after awhile and loaded the tire, fixed and washed up, into the trunk for us.

San Blas, Mexico