The first blast rattled the contents of my bedside table, jolting me from sleep.
I pushed aside the covers and sat straight up.
Then there was another — BOOM.
The sound reverberated throughout the valley that snuggled San Cristóbal de las Casas, a picturesque Mexican mountain town near the Guatemala border, echoing off the dark hills.
Fireworks? I looked at my phone. It was 4 a.m. No way.
The blasts kept coming, doing their best impression of bombs dropped from the sky. Were we under attack? (By… someone? I wasn’t aware we were in threat of war, here.)