It's somewhere between a haven of hope and a den of deception. And it's nearly 1,500 miles from the rolling farms of Sleepy Eye, Minn.
But if, as authorities suspect, cancer-stricken Danny Hauser and his mother have fled from their farm to Tijuana, Mexico, they have joined a steady stream of sick people who cross the border searching for answers they don't believe they can find anywhere else.
With dozens of cancer treatment centers, ranging from sketchy to legitimate, Tijuana boasts the world's most concentrated battlefield against the multi-faceted disease.
Free from much regulatory scrutiny, the centers offer unorthodox options, from low-voltage electrical Zapper treatments to coffee enemas to high-fever inductions that they hope will destroy cancer cells though sheer heat. But there are also U.S.-schooled oncologists working in high-tech facilities.
"When you think 'Mexico,' you think 'uh-oh,' but so much of that is unfair prejudice about anything south of the border," said Katherine Staskus, a microbiologist at the University of Minnesota. "The truth is, there are a lot of credible doctors down there and some legitimate places. There are quacks, too, but there are a lot of quacks in the United States."
Staskus first researched Tijuana's alternative approaches to fighting cancer when her sister, Jean, was diagnosed with breast cancer about 12 years ago. She's now in complete remission, thanks to something called Insulin Potentiation Treatment, which includes low doses of chemotherapy.
When Staskus was diagnosed with breast cancer six years ago, she followed her sister's path to Tijuana. But the treatments didn't work for her, and she has returned to her St. Paul home and her local oncologist to treat her disease.
She doesn't condone Colleen Hauser's decision to bolt with her 13-year-old son, but she empathizes with a mother who feared that her son would be forced to undergo a strict court-ordered chemo regimen.