Mercado

Thursdays are market days. A wonderful onslaught of the senses. The bright colors entice and smells of the food and burning wood comfort, the hawkers chanting their products, including an evangelist on portable speakers the touch from men carrying bundles of wood, clothes , coconuts on their backs. I arrived before nine, the market just waking up. The energy of a new day, the possibility of earning some Quetzals.