ABSTRACT
When I stepped out of the van in the morning, the sweet smell of syrup transported me to a childhood visit to Hershey Park, where the ubiquitous chocolate aroma kept me giddy all weekend.
But now it was midafternoon, the cloying odor was nauseating, and this was no amusement park. It was January 2007 and I was on the outskirts of Cali, Colombia’s third-largest city, infamous for its history as a hub of Colombia’s multibillion dollar cocaine cartel. I was with my boss, John Ruggie, the United Nations secretary-general’s special representative on business and human rights.
