Walking down the cobblestoned streets of Antigua, Guatemala, I looked at the sandy red roofs of the Spanish colonial-style houses. I watched stray dogs grovel on the streets as motorcycles drove by and the vendors sold freshly cut mango and passion fruit. I was a passing American foreigner trying to make sense of what I saw before me. The looming Volcán de Agua in the distance was a reminder that I was in a different world than the small-town suburbs of New Jersey where I grew up. But as I neared the community supermarket on Poniente Street, something familiar caught