The interior of the van is coated with a thick layer of dust. It creeps together the makeshift kitchen region, entrenches alone into the worn floor, and sinks deeply into the weathered upholstery. The chalky material isn’t just from the rutted filth highway we’re at the moment bumping down it has been accumulating in excess of a yr and a 50 percent. It is dust from eleven distinct countries—from sandy Baja beach locations and sea-bound shipping containers to bridge the Darien Gap, to the wind-battered roadside camps of Patagonia.
With just about every highway bump, dust puffs up