February 2006

16 February 2006 – Antigua, Guatemala

Clear nights at an elevation of over 1000m mean crisp mornings for students walking to school and guatemaltecas starting their days. The long light of morning shines warmly on buildings faithfully rebuilt after each natural disaster, displaying their scars proudly or covering them in bright hues of blue and yellow. School children dressed in uniforms of plaid skirts, white blouses and knee socks (and dark pants, white shirts, and vests for the boys) compete for space with indigenas carrying heavy loads in baskets balanced perfectly atop their heads.

In the Parque Central, men with torn pants and worn shoes sweep the debris of yesterday’s tourists and last night’s leaf fall. Their brooms--constructed from palm leaves and long blades of grass--are effective. The park is ready for another day. Great-tailed grackles bathe in the fountain where water flows from the breasts of women whose stone figures represent the daughters of an early governor who, according to legend, had these young mothers killed for refusing to nurse their newborn babes.

At a second fountain, a woman dressed in traditional garb washes her face, perhaps reviving herself after a pre-dawn ride from a distant village. Her basket, too, is full and carefully balanced on her head, and she slowly bends her knees with back straight to reach the water. Well practiced, the act of balancing seems easy, but the strain of the load shows on her face.

Juxtaposed against this timeless scene a group of cyclists, clad in leather, punctuate the relative quiet of the morning with the sound of speed. They move around the square and stop at one of the several restaurants for breakfast. People from around the world cross paths here in the heart of Antigua. Almost as if time traveling, you see them all. Sights and sounds, actions and voices - a feast for the senses this chilly morning.