A meetting in Antigua

by Daniela Flores Eboli (Mexico)

I didn't expect to find Guatemala

Not many people know -or care- about what happen in Guatemala in the early eighties. To be honest, I didn't have a clue either. I never heard about it, even though we share borders. I was oblivious. First of all you have to understand one thing. Here in Mexico we have this strange thing of always wanting to go up. For that reason Guatemala isn’t really an attractive destination. But to me, and to my friends, it sounded like a good idea. So we went. It was going to be for a short period of time. We flew there and our goal was to ride up to San Cristóbal de las Casas, Mexico. We didn't had enough money so that trip was a full of chicken buses, street food and extremely cheap hostel rooms. The first morning we experience there set the tone of the whole trip. We were at Antigua, this colonial city full of color and cobbled streets. It feels different there, there’s this vibe that goes along and hoard every corner. You walk those streets and your guides are the volcanoes not far from there. You can see them lurking around. Protecting you from getting lost. That morning I woke up extremely early, I woke up with the sun. I wanted to take some photos so I put on my shoes and jacket, grabbed my camera and there I went. I just wanted to the see the city alive. The kids were ready for school, all in their school uniforms and backpacks. The chicken busses were passing by without caring about the pedestrians. The sun gave the streets this yellowish golden reflection. It looked so calm. Some women were already doing laundry at the public washing area at a park nearby my hostel. Those women were talking, washing and laughing. I was amazed. I always felt that Guatemala was going to feel like Mexico, being a Latin country and with Mayan heritages… but it has so many differences that make it unique. At the main plaza you could see some little coffee shops open and starting to have the first costumers. The smell of bread and coffee was impregnating everywhere around. I walked away from there. I needed to see the raw Antigua morning, one without fancy bread names and different international coffee brands. So I walked and I walked taking photos of the tall ceiling houses and the local people rushing to go to work. I saw kids playing in the nearly empty streets while waiting for their relatives to get ready and taking them in their bikes. After some time walking I decided to head back to the hostel. I saw a church with some women selling fruit outside and I stopped and took a picture. Suddenly a man in his sixties talked to me. He asked me if I was the new foreigner doctor at the local clinic. I said no, just a tourist. He asked me about my home country, and as soon as I said Mexico his eyes opened and he smiled. He grabbed my hand and thanked me. I wasn't sure what was happening. He explained to me why. He told me that long time ago there was genocide in Guatemala and that Mexico received thousands of refugees. He explained to me how much he cared and that he hasn't forget. He told me about all that suffering back then and that he knew I wasn't even born in those times but that didn't matter. I was Mexican and he thanked me for something I didn't even know it happened. I felt ashamed for a moment. He looked at me and said “Mexico did what few others didn't.” We both smiled. And I have always been proud of my country but that moment, I felt even prouder. We shook hands, said our goodbyes and I kept walking with a new feeling for this country and for my own.