From Cerro de la Cruz travelers, lovers, and lost souls are given the opportunity to reconnect with the city- with a time long gone- while the spirit of Santiago peacefully watches over their shoulders. It’s a feeling of safety up here. Tourists gather on the hill for a must-have photo opportunity while others use the space for relaxation and self-reflection. Sitting high above the chaos of the day-to-day you can see Antigua in its rawest form; a small city embroiled in a long history whose tales resonate through every ally and every building. Stepping off of the hill my feet make contact with those cobblestone streets and I am brought face to face with the city’s tumultuous history. Staring down the long Avenidas your vision is overwhelmed by images of early colonial lifestyle. Rustic stone masonry lays the ground work for each of the building fronts that line the streets. Hand painted ceramic signs are delicately plastered above the doorways to inform passers-by of the shop names. The streets here have a dreamlike effect on my sense of perception as I walk through dragging my hands across the scarred surfaces of the ruined architecture. Spanish colonialism, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, the tourist boom. The streets of Antigua exude feelings of life in the wake of such violence. It’s in the work of the local women and children who proudly patrol the sidewalks in their brightly colored, hand-woven fabrics. It’s in the commotion of the central plaza that acts as the primary hub for all community activity. Families gather there to watch the diverse street performers during the day and couples crowd the park benches to openly display their affection in the evening. For me, it’s easy to get lost in Antigua’s timeless sense of community pride.