The first thing I noticed when I got off the plane and walked out of the airport was how quiet it was.  There were tons of Guatemalans standing outside waiting for their friends and family, but it was practically silent.  I caught a shuttle to Antigua and noticed the same thing about the ride, even through Guatemala City.  It was so quiet.  At first I thought my ears hadn’t popped or something…
 
Antigua is a cute little town with cobblestone roads and lots of colors.  Several churches and other structures had been destroyed by earthquakes in the 1700s, so there are a few ruins to explore, including la Iglesia de San Francisco, home of Hermano Pedro.
 
The second day I was wandering around, I met a Mayan guy who was working for a tourism company handing out flyers.  I walked around with him for awhile, trying my best to stumble through Spanish.  He told me he used to have a rasta that took him a long time to grow, but the police were giving him problems all the time so he had to cut it.  We both agreed that was “muy triste” – very sad.  It started raining and I was supposed to meet up with him at the Parque Central later, but I didn’t see him there.  Maybe it was for the best, as I’m not ready for social obligations as of yet.  However, meeting a Mayan on my second day here was a stroke of luck for me, and further confirmed that I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
 
These photos are from me wandering around in the morning before a lot of people were out.  That’s why there’s not hordes of tourists or other people in them.  Most of them are ruins or churches, and some are arty photos I thought would look cool.