chasing light in quetzaltenango: a photographer's ramble
i rolled into quetzaltenango on a bus that smelled like burnt coffee and hope, the sky a flat sheet of gray that made the cobblestones look like they'd been dipped in ink. i swear the air tasted of wet stone and something sweet, maybe the bakery down the street churning out pan de muerto even though it's not october.
i pulled out my camera, the weight familiar against my hip, and wandered toward the central plaza where the cathedral’s bells clanged like a drunk drummer keeping time.
i peeked at my weather app and it whispered eighteen degrees, sticky enough to make your shirt cling, take it or leave it.
if you need a change of scenery, the steamy vents of volcán santa maría are just a rattling bus ride away, offering views that make your lungs feel both empty and full.
someone told me that the hidden mural behind the mercado shows a revolutionary poet winking at passing tourists, i heard that the local barista slips a dash of chili into her espresso if you ask nicely.
i spent the morning chasing shadows under the arcade, swapping lenses like trading poker chips, and ended up with a roll of film that smelled faintly of rain and diesel.
here are a few frames that survived the humidity:
check out the tripadvisor page for quetzaltenango highlights, or swing by the yelp review of café luna for their infamous tres leches cake, and if you’re looking for a place to sell your prints, the local artists board at guatemalanbackpackers.com has a sticky note section.
i left town with a memory card full of contrast and a promise to return when the mist lifts, because some places stick to your shoes like dried mud and you can’t shake them off even when you try.