Dear Guatemala,
You are my favourite country in Central America. I clearly remember the day when I crossed a river bridge from El Salvador and entered your home. Your steep slopes hugged me so tight that it hurt.
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Your beauty lured me from first sight. It took my fears away. Your tall symmetrical volcanoes waved at me from afar like angels. What more does a lonely man need? I followed. Like a moth to a flame, I danced around you in oblivion.
I remember the cobbled streets of your city Antigua. I took intensive Spanish classes there and practised language with indigenous women souvenir sellers in the streets. Once I took pictures of a lady who didn’t have any photos of her. The next day I presented her a print. Later I photographed dozens of souvenir sellers and gave them images. How their eyes lit up when they held their photos?
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You taught me the true value of a photograph!
It’s been two years, but I still remember: the religious ceremonies— the Shaman who twisted and removed the neck of an alive black chicken and threw it into the fire; the last cackle the hen made—the Maximón statue whom people offered cigarettes; the hat it wore and a long tie with currency notes tucked in it—and Mayan people kneeled at doorsteps of the church; the scent of the smoke from Copal resin.
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The village woman standing in the back of a truck, or the ones washing clothes in streams, and those who carried maize to a milling shop, I remember their faces and colourful skirts.
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I will never forget: the aroma of black pepper that people winnowed in villages—the smile of a man with missing teeth—the green hues of Lake Atitlan—the pyramids shrouded in fog at Tikal—the heavenly Semuc Champey pools nestled in a forest; the echoing of birds; the sound of cascading water; the dance of light streaks in shallow ponds; and the gentle touch of cool water on my skin.
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You taught me there is music in the fabric of the universe. I saw it when Fuego volcano spat lava in sync with lightning. You conveyed a message of politeness, quietness, and humbleness in an otherwise bold, loud, and pretentious world.
My dear Guatemala, my love for you runs deeper than Lake Atitlan.
Happy Independence Day!
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