Back in the City For a Few Days...

Salsa dancing until 1:00 and a 3:00am wake up call is a bad combination. I'm exhausted. We left Antigua at 4:00am to ensure that the San Cristobal team would catch their flight home on time. It's difficult to know that I'll be starting another team with entirely new faces next week and to see that this team, with whom I've spent the past ten days conversing, realizing and relating, will not be traveling with me to my next destination: La Tinta.

I had a wonderful few days in Antigua Guatemala. A 24 hour hour bout of dehydration put me out for some time, but if anything it gave me an excuse for some time on my own. It was well warranted time as I relished in my walk around the city and took a few pictures.

Antigua is a very old city and for as much of a tourist trap as it is, its history and beauty remains. It's about 20 by 20 blocks big and you can see it's entirety if you make a walk up to "La Cruz." It's a short walk to the city's boundary and a hike up a hill where an immense stone cross has been standing on the hillside in a grassy, clear opening. From it's base there, words really dimminish the meaning of the view. One can hear distinct voices of people in courtyards, and hear horses and cars clipping down the city's cobblestone streets. From its height, one has a direct sight of the opposing volcanic mountain side that shadows the city in its valley. Morning mist lifts higher and higher. I shared this moment with two friends, John and Anna Boyle on Tuesday morning. As we woke early and strolled across the city to the base of the cross together, John recounted his stay in the country the year previous. We got breakfast in a small coffee shop and afterward I took my stroll in the city.

Iron casts over the windows of every buildling to protect from rocks and larger, more human predators, houses and shops alike blend into one wall that is divided only by sky blue, marigold and salmon hues. Roofs are flat and clay eaves hang down to connect them. Sidewalks are tall and treacherous. Often unkempt and barely wide enough for the extended windows from the buildings to cover, it is easy to clip one's shoulder or head. The cobblestone of the street is just as much of a challenge however, as uneven rocks produce bumpy bicycles and vespas rides alike.

The center square is filled with trees - the canopies of which you can see from La Cruz. Benches adorn their concrete walkways and a massive fountain with nude women etched into its stone chatters among the street vendors and shoe shiners. Charming as it is, these shoe shiners make their living here. It is not so much like the men in airports who ask for tips. As you walk down the street every so often, a coffee shop's aroma fills your nose or fresh oranges and papaya make your mouth water. Children run around with yellow and magenta ice cream as drips eagerly fall create mess on a shirt.

Ruins of old churches immerse with the architecture and color of those still upheld. A great yellow arch containing a clock is ahead, beckoning ones eyes to the matching Catholic church behind it. During Semana Santa (Holy Week) these streets will be filled with intricate carpets, colored and designed with sawdust. They are a reverence to the Holy parades that take place and holy the ground the float bearers walk upon. In either direction one looks, mountains and volcanoes surround, as a sky turns pink and the clouds streak blue.