Pride and Grace
We went to Guatemala on my 40th birthday. I was itching to go somewhere with true culture, lots of color and charm. My gypsy soul was calling.
The city of Antigua is a lovely base of operations. It is a renovated colonial town filled with cobblestone streets, warm hued haciendas and the smell of the mountains in the air. A feeling of eternal Spring. We arrived just in time for the famed processionals through the streets for Easter. Pilgrims from all over the highlands of Central America were descending on the small jewel of a city dressed in their traditional Mayan colors. Lovely people with devotion on their faces and a contented calm that I had not felt since Bali. In fact, in a strange way Guatemala reminded me of Bali. Spiritual devotion resulting in sublime peace despite the obvious poverty. Color and ceremony influencing everyday life providing meaning, connection and pride over the mundane and everyday. I was thrilled to immerse myself in this energy again.
We enjoyed staying in a small, boutique hotel filled with antiques and local art. Just my style. The owners a lovely couple who provided authentic mayan food on the sunny terrace with a view to the volcano for breakfast every morning, the hint of distant burning mountain wood mixing with our own little outdoor fire warming us in the brisk morning air.