Antigua, Guatemala 1990 ; I awoke early that morning, anxious to get out into the city before the bustle of the marketplace made me have to use my meagre Spanish vocabulary. I wanted to see the city wake up. You know, cities do have a way of waking up that is all their own. It is a time when the smells are fresh and the aromas fragrant. Sound has not yet become noise. Light is stark, light shadows dance the soundless sound of shadows flicking light. Here, a mother, her child with his school books under arm, walk together. What are they talking about?
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