There’s a surprise behind every door at the Antigua street market.
I stepped into a covered tent and my eyes were assaulted by an explosion of color. Bright yellows, vivid oranges, rich blues, sultry reds and deep greens warmed my sight. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust and register my surroundings, but when they did an even more amazing vision came into focus around me.
Stunning tapestries, dripping with vibrant colors sewn into intricate designs surrounded me. I felt suspended in a fantastical pool of hues. Mythical quetzals took flight around me, golden and red plumes streaming in long, twining ribbons from their bodies. Pale pink flamingos reflected the light pouring in from the front of the tent, shinning and glimmering as they drank out of crystal clear pools. Tiny, golden-brown monkeys swung from intricately stitched vines; I imagined I could hear their happy shrieks vibrating in the jungle air. I stood in the tent for a while taking in the scene, my mom standing next to me equally speechless.
We examined each tapestry, and eventually decided to purchase two carefully sewn table runners to brighten up our dinning room. With a plastic bag swinging jauntily in my hand, I pushed on my sunglasses, ducked under the tent flap, and stepped out into the bustling Antigua Market.
Bright sunlight fell on my gently bronzed skin. The smell of roasting corn and fried platanos fritos (small fried bananas) greeted my nose. I took a long deep breath, savoring the excitingly exotic taste the fragrant air left in my mouth and reeling at the aromatic confirmation that I was in a foreign and still mysterious new place. I wandered through the market, tilting my face up slightly to absorb the afternoon sunshine. I looked around, observing the various stalls and tables displaying carefully carved wooden bracelets, intricately painted clay pots, brightly colored, traditional Guatemalan garments and strange looking fruits and vegetables.
The market was located on a wide, uneven cobble stone street, several hundred years old. The famous Antigua Arch stood, curving over the middle of the market, glowing bright yellow against the watery blue sky. The street was lined with artfully sculpted buildings with arched entryways, their bright hues faded and worn by time. I saw one wide entryway displaying unusual looking earrings and small, vibrantly painted boxes; my curiosity sparked, I turned my back on the street and stepped into the store.
Contrary to the impression the storefront gave, the quaint looking entryway led into a giant warehouse overflowing with a multitude of treasures. Hundreds of individually painted wooden figures stood three feet high, creating a long pathway into the heart of the store. Each carving had a unique expression and was decorated with its own individual attire.
I passed through the army of carved figures and entered the jewelry section of the store. Sparkling earrings made from brightly colored stones and pieces of glass hung on twine, strung between poles embedded in the concrete; elaborate necklaces, constructed out of carved wood and intricately painted beads, rested on tables covered in old burlap sacks; bracelets, made from minuscule, diversely colored beads, were displayed on wooden shelves. All of it was made by hand, originating from a variety of Antigua crafts-people. The display of skill was mind-blowing.
Farther back in the store, tapestries and traditional Guatemalan clothing, again all made by hand, hung on wooden racks. I fingered the hand dyed fabrics, marveling at their soft texture and the creativity and care sewn into each garment. I discovered far more treasures in the crafts warehouse, ranging from paper-thin clay pots to goofy renditions of famous works of art. Eventually, I decided to purchase two of the beaded bracelets (one for me and one for my best friend) and exited the store.
Back on the street the sun had sunk lower in the soft sky. Artists painting pictures of the famous street, with the golden arch in the background and vibrant flowers sprouting out of pots along the buildings, lined the cobble stone road, immersed in their work. Travelers from various corners of the globe, their purchases in hand, wandered lazily in the street, heading back to their hotels for the night. The energy and excitement of commerce and the tension of bartering had lowered with the fading sun and the scene was serene. In no rush to see anyone or be anywhere, I walked slowly and calmly, reveling in the blissful peace of the moment.
As I strolled, I thought about where in the world I was, where I had come from and pondered where I would travel to in the future. It reminded me that when traveling, these moments of peace, of quiet contemplation, are just as important as the daring adventures. They are a key part of the experience that allows you, not only to observe various sights and locations, but to create meaning in your various endeavors and adventures. Standing at the heart of Antigua, watching the last rays of sunlight peer over the distant mountains, I relaxed my mind and let it wander, through the gridded streets, over the purple mountains, and felt my soul comprehend all that had passed that day and my heart open to all that lay before me.
