Night had fallen when we pulled into the Izamal train station. Awash in a golden yellow, illuminated by gentle lighting and the glow of the night sky, I could already tell that this ancient Mayan town was something special.

Sometimes, I can’t pinpoint a place’s resounding sense until the end of a trip. But on my first night in Serbia, I discover its song immediately. I’m having dinner at Restoran Velika Skadarlija, a traditional tavern—known as a Serbian “kafana”—that’s deceivingly spacious, with white tablecloths and a bright interior. As I settle in for dinner, the folk band Tamburica 5 forms a semi-circle around my table, and I hear Serbia’s trademark tamburica before I learn its name.

I met Lily one early January morning at a donut shop off the highway, about a 30-minute drive from Oaxaca City. Lily introduced herself to our small tour group — me and a family of four from Minnesota. She would be leading us for the day, as we visited some of the "must-sees" of Oaxaca. This included the scenic mineral springs and waterfalls of Hierve el Agua, the Zapotec archaeological site of Mitla, lunch at a local spot for memelas, and a visit to a locally owned and run mezcal distillery.