Just visible, and looking almost like tiny toys, about five hundred feet below our handsome hotel was a small enclave of Tarahumara people. We took the path down to their ledge one afternoon. The view was spectacular whether you looked up, down, or across the canyon, but the living was definitely more primitive than that enjoyed by the tourists topside. No electricity, water from a cliffside spring, laundry washed by pounding on a stone, and one room adobe houses built into the cliff heated by wood stoves.
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