God bless Sundays.

I am infatuated with this city today.

As I walk down my street, I pass the bus station. Drivers headed for Guatemala city yell, "Guate! Guate! Guate!" I walk down the market street, and see hundreds of women in traje (traditional intricately woven dress) with baskets of fruits and vegetables on their heads. A middle-aged American man looking sweaty and lost stops me and asks if I know where his hotel is, and I do! I eat a delicious tipico breakfast: eggs, beans, fried bananas, and tortillas. Reading the paper, I learn that yesterday was the ten-year anniversary of the assassination of Bishop Gerardi, who published a report broadcasting the violence committed by the army right after the war, and was killed two days later. People are now able to come together to mourn him and the people he represented.

I hear at least five different languages walking around the streets. I find a place to do my laundry, and am ecstatic to find I read the directions correctly and my clothes are clean. I pass masses with toddlers in sparkling white dresses. I start thinking about the next place I want to travel: a cloud forest outside of Coban, where an eco-tourist group will take you to spend the weekend with an indigenous family while exploring caves and waterfalls.

I'm at a restaurant with an open courtyard and live music while I write this.

I think of something Ti Harmony, the yoga instructor, always says: "So, this is your life. Right now. Be here."