Angel of Santo Domingo del Cerro. Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Santo Domingo del Cerro, atop a mountain near Antigua, includes a sculptural garden, a restaurant, a coffee bar, and an event venue for weddings and the like. Oh, and a zipline concession.
Angel of Santo Domingo del Cerro. Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
I'll write more in another post, but for now, it's all about the angel. Although I can say now that I did have lunch at the restaurant and it was OK. Ditto for the coffee that I got at the coffee bar after lunch. Alas, the sky was hazy, but I'm sure on clear days, the view from the restaurant terrace is marvelous.
Angel of Santo Domingo del Cerro. Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
I was really taken with her, as you can see.
Angel of Santo Domingo del Cerro. Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Some day, I'll get in the proper habit of looking at the artist's name so I can give credit. My research thus far has not unearthed this information.
I learned something in Antigua that was gobsmacking.
Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Men's habit of peeing on the exterior building walls in Antigua is damaging the buildings. Antigua is a UNESCO World Heritage Center, so this is serious business.
Peeing on the limestone walls of the 250-year-old Alamo in Texas is a serious crime because of the damage it does to the historic structure.
In Berlin, the city created a force of "urine police" to protect historic buildings. "Human urine is so abrasive and corrosive that, over time, it acts like a sandblaster," said a scientist.
It's also a problem in Chester, England, which sits atop Roman ruins.
There is apparently a Facebook page that has photos of men caught in the act of peeing on walls in Antigua. It's a shaming page. I haven't been able to track it down.
Mermaid fountain, Central Park, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
There is a fountain in Antigua's Central Park in which there are stone women who hold their breasts aloft so that the fountain's water can soar forth through their nipples.
Mermaid fountain, Central Park, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
When I look at this statue's facial expression, I imagine her thoughts: "There is no dignity here. And I have a bird on my head."
Mermaid fountain, Central Park, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
My airbnb hostess told me about two mountaintop destinations. I was a little confused about which was which and how to get to them and what I'd see at each; it was all kind of a jumble of information. If I'd done any kind of research at all, I'd have got it figured out, but I didn't. Instead, I chose the stumbling-through-almost-cluelessly touristic plan. I don't particularly recommend this strategy, but it worked out reasonably well.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
One of the two mountaintops I visited was Cerro San Cristobal. It's the site of an organic farmlet and a restaurant.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
When it's not hazy out, the view must be magnificent.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
I enjoyed my tequila and lime.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
And I enjoyed walking about some paths in amongst the organic goods.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
You get to Cerro San Cristobal by going to Antigua's fair-trade artisanal market called Nim P'ot. From there, you'll be escorted around the corner to a waiting shuttle van, which will take you up the mountain.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
The meal offering was over my budget, so I didn't partake.
The good thing about the shuttle is that it's almost free, it gets you to your destination without any muss or fuss. The not-so-good thing is that you've got to wait til there's a down-going shuttle before you can return.
In my case, I had wrung every util of pleasure out of Cerro San Cristobal I wanted, and found myself cooling my heels for quite awhile waiting for the shuttle to return to Antigua. In all fairness to Cerro San Cristobal, they are a relatively new operation, so they are still in the process of developing the experience.
An alternative is to hitchhike back to town with an independent visitor to the restaurant, something I'd probably do if I were to return.
Cerro San Cristobal, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Blue tortillas, San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
The sight of girls and women making and selling tortillas all day, every day, in Antigua, is ubiquitous.
My airbnb hostess explained that some - many? - of the girls are lured from the countryside to the cities, such as Antigua, with promises of a better life than can be had in their impoverished rural villages. Often, the girls' parents willingly send their daughters off with the tortilla head hunters, so to speak, believing the promises.
Too often, the girls end up working for miserable earnings, living in miserable, crowded quarters, making and selling tortillas. All day, every day.
The making of tortillas all day, every day results in:
The girls' and womens' skin permanently damaged from chronic exposure to the lime in the masa, the corn dough that is the basis for the tortilla.
Tendon injuries due to the repetitive hand and wrist movement involved in shaping and flattening the tortilla.
It looks picturesque, it looks quaint, it looks "cultural."
Is that girl on that corner, selling tortillas, a girl trapped in servitude? Or is she an entrepreneur, or the daughter of an entrepreneur, with a promising future?
I barely glance at her when I walk by; she barely glances at me while she sits by her cloth-covered basket of tortillas. She's an extra in my movie as I am in hers.
I was on my way to Spanish class as usual one morning, when I noticed a little sidewalk parade on the street I'd chosen to take on this day. Four men. Each with a musical instrument. Who were these men? Where were they going so early on a Friday morning?
Obviously, I had to follow them.
I followed them to Central Park. They sat down on a bench.
I asked one of them, "What is happening?"
Earth Day. Ahhhhh, of course, it is April 22.
"There will be a parade."
A parade! God knows I love parades!
In the priority of things, a parade comes before school. I would be late for Spanish class.
I had no cell service, no wifi. Wait, I could go into the congenial Cafe Barista on the plaza and use its wifi to send an email to my Spanish school to let them know I'd be there, but I'd be late.
Cafe Barista, Central Park, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Then I set about to wait. Troupes of school kids arrived. A TV person interviewed someone for the camera. More kids arrived. Parade participants and viewers alike did what we all do when we're waiting for something to start: Stand around, chat, stand around some more. Wonder when things will start.
Earth Day Parade, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Eventually, the standing-about continued to the point that I really needed to push on to class, so I did.
Earth Day Parade, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
But lo, during said class, did I not hear the sounds of a marching band?! Yes! So my teacher, the school administrator, and I scurried out to the street to discover the parade going right by in front of us! How lucky!
Earth Day Parade, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
A video below. Toward the end, you can see my teacher and the administrator waving at me:
The Earth Day parade seemed to be tied to honoring school athletics in general and, based on something my teacher said, girls' athletics specifically. I like this.
Earth Day Parade, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Those girls in the photo above look rather glum, don't they? A story there.
Earth Day Parade, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
For Earth Day 2015, I partook of the celebration at Vermilionville, in Lafayette, Louisiana. The video is below:
I was bemused recently to read a recent tourist's characterization of Antigua as "quaint."
Before I can appreciate the quaint, I've got to cut through the noise, both audio and visual. Antigua is noisy. Pedestrian and vehicular traffic congestion. Honking horns. Barking dogs. Occasional evangelical service shared with the entire neighborhood via loudspeaker. Fireworks - bombas - going off at almost any time of day.
But in the middle of town, close to Central Park, there is a refuge of quiet.
CFCE, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
It's the building complex called CFCE, the Centro de Formacion de la Cooperacion Espanola. It is on the original site of the centuries-old Jesuit college and church, founded there in 1582 ..... and subsequently thrashed by an earthquake.
CFCE, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Nowadays, the site hosts a vocational training school, computer and wifi center, a restaurant, document archives, and rooms and courtyards restored as an architectural monument one can walk through.
CFCE, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
The first time I entered the grounds, and sat in the interior courtyard, I wasn't particularly struck by the courtyard's beauty. I sat. I took a deep breath. It was quiet. Blessedly quiet except for the sound of the fountain:
Although the narrow sidewalks outside the compound are jammed with pedestrians, stores, vendors, and vehicles, the rooms inside have only a few people walking about.
CFCE, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
The rooms receive light in calming angles.
CFCE, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
There are uncomplicated geranium pots on window ledges.
Sometimes tiny adventures are not as exciting as you hope they'll be; sometimes they are. San Felipe de Jesus fell in the former category, but I had a really pleasant walk back to Antigua. I did get lost once or twice, but it worked out just fine.
Some sights along my way down to Antigua:
San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
The local AA clubhouse. San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Closed market stall across from San Felipe de Jesus church, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
I heard about a local church that drew many, many folks from the countryside for the first Mass of each Sunday. This same church was allegedly the home of some miracles.
Obviously, I had to check it out. I like to go to places of miracles.
Like the Santuario de Chimayo in New Mexico, where I gathered up some holy dirt and placed it in empty receptacles of some sort that I had in the car, and which I later gifted to my mother and, I believe, re-gifted to my Georgian hostess, Neli, after I discovered my mother did not have the full appreciation for such things like Neli did:
Although sleeping in on the chosen Sunday morning was inviting, I got up early so I could walk to the bus terminal, find the bus to the village, and arrive in time for the early-morning Mass.
My intel was that I'd find the right bus behind the municipal market down this lane and over by this other place. I went to where I thought it was. No buses yet. Upon asking someone, I learned the first bus wouldn't depart til too late. So I grabbed a tuk-tuk, paid too much (though negotiated it down), and was dropped in front of the church doorway.
Well, I was damn early. But I did see the makings of a post-Mass breakfast at various stations in the area next to the church, plus the stirrings of a Sunday market across the street from the church.
Truth be told, the church wasn't all that memorable for me. It was yellow. Which makes it just like all the other churches in and around Antigua.
Ooh, but the blues of the market across the way! The blue of the tortillas! Seas, skies, pools, precious stones of myriad blues!
Closed market stall across from San Felipe de Jesus church, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
Blue tortillas in San Felipe de Jesus, outside Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
My blue breakfast, San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
I've got to learn to ask folks to just leave off the various sauces from the main dishes. The red sauce added nothing to the meat. Alas.
The blue masa from which the blue tortillas are made. San Felipe de Jesus, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
OK, OK, here's a photo of the church - but through the veils of blue tarps:
San Felipe de Jesus church, near Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.
