At the biggest indigenous market in Guatemala, a group of tourists and I plowed through the sea of human bodies in search of some good bargains. The market had very small lanes and was crammed with bodies. The children of the stall owners even hid below the tables. I myself was overwhelmed and claustrophobic after two hours. It was just too much. After about an hour I was happy to step aside for some lunch and let the massive parade traffic drift on by.
Strangely enough, after midday the traffic had reduced by 50% and we were left to shop in peace in the last hours there.
Anne Marie and I were hanging out on the third floor when I heard around the corner the music of the procession. When I saw this crowd of about 40 people parade down the street, I grabbed my camera and raced down to the street.
Today the city was celebrating their patron Saint Peter. The parade was lead by small band, followed by a group of women in traditional dress, men carrying an small statue of Saint Peter, and a general crowd of locals.
I had my eye on the town beauty. I didn't know her name, but I saw her at the wine shop the other day. Slender, beautiful skin, and magnetic eyes, she carried the attention of all the men as she walked amongst the girls.