The humid smell of Guatemala crept into our room, tip toeing and making its way all the way up to my bunk. It was hot. You could feel the density in the air. Outside I could here people from stores shouting to people passing by: “Good clothes!” or “Ice cream!”. I could imagine the little girls balancing the baskets on there heads, or the shoe shiners crouched over shining a customers shoe. The hand made tortilla sent drifted into out room from two doors down also. Every morning and every evening we’d pass by there. Little kids with dirt on there faces would sit in the door way while women (I supposed their mothers) where hand making tortillas in the back. Even in the heat I can’t the women in Antigua had on their traditional outfits. It’s still a mystery to me how they don’t get overheated.
Earlier when we met up at our Spanish school a surprise was set up for us. A fiesta, with a DJ, food and colored lights. We where awarded with tee shirts, certificates, smiles and hugs all from the behalf of our teachers. The tables where set with a yellow table cloth with sparkling glasses and silverware. By the time we where done eating, it was dark and the sun had already gone down. We had dined alfresco so we got to see the ablaze salmon sun set into the Guatemalan horizon of Antigua for the last time. For the rest of the night we danced like we where home. While we where sitting at the tables and eating, I noticed somethings. Whenever the lights would shine on someone at a certain angle, it would turn them into a silhouette. But not a normal one; a silhouette that was rimed in flashing colors.