A riot of serapes, embroidered blouses, and handwoven textiles spills onto the sun-drenched arcade of Tijuana's famous market street — the saturated Kodachrome palette of the 1950s making every stripe of red, green, and gold blaze with almost hallucinatory vividness. Hanging garments crowd the storefronts while pedestrians browse, a scene that was already well-worn for American day-trippers crossing from San Diego. The card was sent by "John" to his parents at 192 May Street, Buffalo, New York, on a journey southward: "On way to Guatemala — short stop in Tijuana. Place look familiar? We'll all have to come here again sometime." The breezy tone and Guatemala destination hint at an adventurous traveler, perhaps in the late 1950s. The reverse bears a 25-centavo Mexican airmail stamp, reddish-brown, cancelled in Tijuana — a fitting postmark for a border city that existed to be visited and left.