Send us a text Last time, we traced how Mexico’s past built the world we see now. The old systems never vanished—they just changed names. Power shifted hands, but the structures stayed the same. This episode picks up in the mid-1980s, when a young man named Adolfo de Jesús Constanzo stepped out of Miami’s shadows and into Mexico City. He wasn’t a priest, but he carried candles, bones, and promises. He called himself El Padrino. From the crowded streets of Zona Rosa to the back rooms where nar...
All content for Nightmares of the Americas: Indigenous Tales is the property of Joseph & Gabriel Behill and is served directly from their servers
with no modification, redirects, or rehosting. The podcast is not affiliated with or endorsed by Podjoint in any way.
Send us a text Last time, we traced how Mexico’s past built the world we see now. The old systems never vanished—they just changed names. Power shifted hands, but the structures stayed the same. This episode picks up in the mid-1980s, when a young man named Adolfo de Jesús Constanzo stepped out of Miami’s shadows and into Mexico City. He wasn’t a priest, but he carried candles, bones, and promises. He called himself El Padrino. From the crowded streets of Zona Rosa to the back rooms where nar...
Send us a text This week, we’re taking a real look at the River People — the Achomawi — who made a life out of some of the roughest ground in Northern California. Volcanic fields, cold rivers, high desert — they knew every inch of it. They fished, they hunted, they moved with the seasons — and they passed down warnings about something they knew was still living underneath all of it. Pale beings that couldn’t survive the sun. Caves and cracks where the air still breathes cold. We’ll walk you t...
Nightmares of the Americas: Indigenous Tales
Send us a text Last time, we traced how Mexico’s past built the world we see now. The old systems never vanished—they just changed names. Power shifted hands, but the structures stayed the same. This episode picks up in the mid-1980s, when a young man named Adolfo de Jesús Constanzo stepped out of Miami’s shadows and into Mexico City. He wasn’t a priest, but he carried candles, bones, and promises. He called himself El Padrino. From the crowded streets of Zona Rosa to the back rooms where nar...
