I remember quickly in this country that in many places in the world, the pedestrian does not have the right of way, and after almost getting myself killed by a chicken bus, I remember some pedestrian strategies learned at a tender age in the crazy traffic city of Naples, Italy.
#1 Assess the situation. There are some instances of flow in which, even if the driver saw you, he would probably not stop; the perpetual motion around him being of such strong influence.
#2 NEVER make eye contact with the driver of the vehicle. If you do, he will then know that you know that he is there, that he has the right of way (because he's bigger), and that there's no way he's stopping if you've seen him.
#3 Consider, I mean really THINK, if you want to pass behind that acrid, choking, black smoke belching chicken bus. It will take years off your life.
In the end I decide Antigua is a jewel. If you can get past the air pollution, razor wire, and endless peeling paint. On a good day when the sun is shining, there's a little breeze, and the cobbled streets are surrounded by brightly colored houses with overflowing courtyards of cheerful flowers. The curvy wrought iron and tiled roofs add to the charm. And that magnificent volcano presiding silently over everyone and everything.
Best of all are the indigenous Mayan women and girls that surround me, on this, my last afternoon sitting in parche central. In their beautiful traditional dress, they give up trying to sell to me, and just sit and rest a while. We chat a little about children and husbands and what village we're from, but there's also some comfortable silence.
The man on the bench next to me says he thought I was from here. He thought I was talking to the women fluently (not!) and said the women gathered around me like bees to honey. It's because I'm so relaxed, I think to myself. And it's true. In this "undeveloped" region, I've become more developed myself. More grounded and relaxed than I have been in a very long time.