Colors

Antigua is a town of colors. My bedroom has white walls, save one. Painted on the wall next to my bed are gray hills around a lake of blue sky.

For lunch today, Beatrice, my host mom, served a delicious meal. Three piles - white, orange, and green covered in red sauce. Hot tortillas too, of course.

Along our street houses stand baby blue, tangerine, and red. Banana tree leaves and purple flowers outstretch their courtyards and, wrapping around the tiled roofs, contrast with the multicolored facades.

Everywhere Mayan women wear embroidered clothes. Bright patterns against brown skin. Wraparound skirts tied with hand sewn belts, babies in colorful slings, and always a bundle balanced atop a headdress.

Above the houses are green hills. Some surround gray volcanoes. At night, fireworks flash purple - Independence is on the 15th.

Tomorrow I have my second Spanish lesson. Last time my teacher, Aura, wore a red shirt and drank coffee from a blue mug. When she laughs she shows all her teeth.

For now, I sit at my desk covered with a stripped clothe watching the sun go down on Antigua, a town of colors.