An Oregon native speaks on faith and government.

We were once told to eat our vegetables. Now we have no choice.

“We don’t consider ourselves bandits, we are simply patrolling our seas. Think of us like a coast guard.”

Imagine the sight of more than two dozen shadowy figures poring over large steaming caldrons behind a gray school building at dusk, the barely full moon casting a soft light on their eager, enchanted smiles.

We drape ourselves across plastic chairs in the small yard outside Molly Fisher’s pink stucco home in Bucerías, Mexico. Sipping on Pacificos, we wash down the margherita pizza that arrived strapped to the back of a motorcycle. Fisher teaches us new words.