We reached the town as dawn broke. The streets were empty and littered with the debris of the fiesta —streamers, broken bits of pihata, and plastic cups were everywhere underfoot. One or two celebrants lay in doorways or on benches, sleeping off the effects of the night’s party. Obviously, curfews were not as strictly enforced here as they were in Izampan. Or if they were, they’d been relaxed for the fiesta .