The crowd parted before Justine and the children followed her like chicks after a mother duck. I kept a few paces back so that I could watch the reactions to my odd family group. Here among the bustle of an Asian fishing village we stood out in ways that I hadn’t appreciated previously. Justine, of course, towered above the compact villagers even more than she had among white Americans. Cyrus and Laurence flanked Berenice, both trying to protect her and draw strength from her fierce adaptability. And me, leading from behind, ushering them into the jungle in order to find another address from Podovkin’s notebook.