Antigua and Change

Walking the uneven cobblestone streets of Antigua reminds me of the uniqueness of this city. Antigua means antique and it’s architecture reflects that vibe. Since several devastating earthquakes in past centuries have destroyed the city, it has been rebuilt to highlight its Spanish baroque colonialism. We’re in the highlands here and I can feel it in the air I breathe (as long as I am away from the roads). The Central Square in the middle serves as a focal point for all the narrow stone streets and walkways that are outlaid to the north and south and to the east and west. Navigation is simple here because of the geometric design.

The quiet streets are lined with restaurants and ‘tipico’ Mayan shops and as we make our way outwards, busy mercados offering Guatemalan wares in vibrant colours and patterns are for sale everywhere. Fabric designs are all woven to represent the village from where they were made. Tacos and other characteristic foods abound. The streets resound with music, conversations in Spanish and (often) loud discourse. “Come see my wares! Good prices!” are calls meant to entice tourists to enter shops and purchase souvenirs.

Paul and I have been here before. I remember feeling the intensity of the Mayan culture here, and also the noticeable tourist attraction of the place. Even Guatemalans flock to Antigua for a short respite from the big city of Guatemala just an hour’s drive away. Here is an opportunity to stroll, eat, drink and share the offerings of antiquity, nature and solemn religious energy. The churches beckon, with their massive walls and ceilings and strong constitution of rock and cement. The painted walls of the buildings mirror the colours of Mayan design.

The last time we were in Antigua was five years ago and though the city looks the same, I don’t think I am the same, and so I see the city differently. The residents seem more comfortable and at peace. There’s a community vibe on the streets that I didn’t experience before. I also don’t remember the challenges of walking the cobblestone roads as acutely as I do now. I suppose my body is older now.

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The children’s’ faces tell it all. There’s a calmness that pervades here as I see them following their mammas who walk with baskets on their heads trying to sell what they have so they are more able to feed their children. Sometimes I become troubled about the divisions that money, or lack of money, create for the ways that we view each other. Occasionally I will buy something, but mostly I offer smiles and communication with an innate understanding of the commonality of how we care for our family regardless of where we live in this diverse world. We reach out to each other with acknowledgement that says “I see you!” I understand…

Our ascent to Cerro De La Cruz this evening is easy. There are apparently about 300 steps to complete the climb. By the time we reach the top the sun is setting and the sky is misty with clouds. There’s a white film that flows across my span of vision and Christ’s cross stands majestic across the city’s view. I’m guessing it provides a security for many who live here.

It’s times like this when I feel on top of the world. I share the space with visitors, neighbours, tourists and residents. There’s music playing in the background. I’m not even sure from where it comes. Drums sound and in communion with those around me I feel at peace with all who are here.