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Published: March 6th 2012
Antigua
Street seller -you want buy me. The pitches are the same world wide.I spotted him from a distance, hangdog expression, backpack dangling from a shoulder, meandering amongst the throngs of LAX. On spotting me, a surreptitious smile, a handshake and our mate Burch had now morphed our tight group of two into the three amigos with two months ahead galavanting around Central America.
A month's gossip was exchanged over a couple of hours prior to the reality that we were still confronted with one of the less glamourous chapters of travel - the red eye flight.The actual flying time from LA to Guatemala isn't overly daunting, but already crusty and in stopover mode, the 11.30pm takeoff and rapid transit in Mexico City prior to the last leg is a recipe for the perfect storm in terms of jet lag.
Guatemala City is bipassed by 99% of tourists who generally ween themselves onto this nation via Antigua an hour or so from the capital. Our plan was no different as we exited customs flatlining. The jet lag combined with my Spanish having been left in cold storage for five years meant it was always going to be tough to come out for the bell round.
Having to push start the shuttle
Antigua boy
Busking.. This kid had no talent but he got the cute sympathy vote. bus wasn't the ideal introduction to Guatemala but at least we were within smelling distance of home base 24 hours after leaving Honolulu.
Pulling into Antigua's cobbled streets and Spain's colonial legacy gives you a right royal slap in the face. Head to toe in colonial architecture with the full artist's palate of colours reflecting in the mid morning sunshine was enough to overshadow what the body was feeling.
Antigua fills a role similar to that of a Cuzco or Kathmandu. There are tourists aplenty but far from overwhelming. It's also a different genre of tourist from our previous month in Hawaii. Gone are the floral shirts, matching shorts and umbrella cocktails.
If it's a window into Guatemalan culture you seek then a plunge into the maelstrom of a local market will provide a sting in the tail for an understanding of Guatemala's "Main Street". "Assault on the senses" may be cliched but no more appropriate than what's dished up one step inside the fringes of a Guatemalan market.
Colours? Vivid enough to send an epileptic into overdrive.
Sounds? The background din of spruikers and women haggling and you'd swear you were in the midst
I love a parade.
KKK goes purple. of a battery hen house.
In respect with the hustle and bustle of moving through the narrow alleyways there is a strict code of etiquette. Etiquette number 1 - there is no etiquette. Hit the deck here and it would resemble a rugby ruck except a little bit of tap dancing on the victim's back is still allowed. One tumble and you may never see the light of day again.
The whole scene is a blast, equally as entertaining as Walmart but on a whole different tangent. Coles and Woolworths lame in comparison.
The other overt Spanish colonial legacy hems from the hard yards put in by the Missionaries some time back. The number of elaborate churches sprinkled around Antigua lends an idea to the grip Catholicism has on the nation. To really be convinced, try and be here for the month up to and including Semana Santa, ie Easter.
We lucked into town as the festivities were just beginning to sprout shoots. If you love a parade, and who doesn't, Antigua is the place to be this month. During this period, the Guatemalans take reverence to a complete new level.
In the threads department,
Antigua
Iglesia de la Merced the participants look like the Klu Klux Klan goes purple. They lug around this float that has to weigh a tonne or two and are backed up by a BIG brass band. Leave your flute at home and bring along your tuba or kettle drum if you want a start in this ensemble.
The fans line the streets in their thousands for the few klms that the procession ambles along at a literal snail's pace. The process kicks off around lunch time and is still kicking at around 10pm. That's one tough gig.
Enroute through the streets, at regular intervals, are some mighty impressive works of art placed in the path of the parade. One of the locals explained to me that his community group spent 10 hours preparing their particular contribution. 10 hours of toil by a dozen people who, when the parade passes by, will see their work trampled into the cobblestones in a couple of minutes.
A lot of these works are comprised of various food items. This makes for a nice piece of biplay to the main act after the procession has passed. There is a "Tren de Aseo", the official cleanup squad
whose mandate is to remove all remnants of the artwork offerings. However, the real entertainment comes from the unofficial patrol, mostly women and children, who flock like seagulls on a chip to the food left in the parades wake. The tomatoes don't make it but carrots, for example, stand up pretty well despite the pummelling. The more mature women will use their market experience (plenty of elbows) to snap the prime pickings but some of the urchins display real potential as future market heavies. It's quintessential dog eat dog survival of the fittest.
The last few days have bristled with types of experiences, some almost intangible, that can make travel the rush it is. What may be routine hum-drum for a Guatemalan is anything but meat and two veggies for us. Bring on the next phase.
Yeatesy.
In the Land of the Giants
It's not often I can look someone in the eye. At 5 foot plus interest I am accustomed to peering at people's necks, if I'm lucky their chins. So after 24 hours of travelling and finally arriving in Antigua I have realised I'm not so short after all. Maybe I've actually grown after
La Merced Church reflecting
Photo G. Yeates, art direction, C Burchmore. Hawaii as now I'm actually looking people in the eye, and in some cases around older folk, looking at the tops of heads.
We have travelled through Central America before but can't recall them being so vertically challenged? The men look particularly petite or is it I'm so used to being around westerners a head height or so above me.
The Guatemalan people have been quite lovely. Ready to help but always in the background going about their life irrespective of tourists.
The local market is exactly that, it's for them to go about daily necessities of buying and selling essentials. The colours, tastes and smells fantastic. For as little as a dollar you can buy a breakfast of the full range of tropical fruits in a cup.
Antigua has been a great introduction to Central America. We have actually been here before about 13 years ago and while the town has not changed it is great to re-explore the place. It's a subtle mix of the old, the new and just a dab of western influence (great coffee shops). We leave for Honduras with a smile on our faces but will be back soon.
Watermelon
Photo Yeatesy
Art direction the blushing bride. Penny
More images at:
www.colvinyeates.zenfolio.com
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