This place never gets old
Jul 29, 2005
Aug 15, 2005
At night I went across the street to talk to the guy that would always wave at me. He was the one that told me they had no room my first night in Antigua. But he was also the one that referred me to the room I ended up getting. I showed him how to IM people via MSN messenger and we talked to one of my friends back home in Spanish. I didn't even know she knew spanish and I hadn't even talked to her in a while, but it was a worthwhile experience and linked Guatemala with Faribault for just a little bit.
Apparently Antigua has a sordid history. The mother at the hostel told me about how some monks did nasty stuff to children at the monastery. I can see how the stories came up with all the other stories of Catholic priest abuses, but really, I don't think they ATE BABIES. Yeah, "las monjas comieron los niņos," dijo ella. I ended up going to the monastery. It was a site to see because there was an earthquake back in colonial times that destroyed a few of the major buildings. It was a grand site to see. This church must've been huge back in the day. It had a vaulted ceiling and a few courtyards to boot. You could see the remnants of the bath houses and the basements where the children were seasoned with some jalapeņos. Aside from that, I went to the textile museum, which was mostly a store. And I went back to the flea market.