Y
ou must arrive at the old entrance to Hotel Casa Santo
Domingo in Antiqua, Guatemala, at night. Relinquish your
luggage at the door and wander slowly through the dark,
spooky courtyards. Turn into candlelit corridors replete
with statues of saints, puppets, angels and sinners
lurking at every turn. Without being contrived, the hotel
appears to be the ultimate haunted house, the ultimate
spirit house.
The effect is so eerie that the first time visitor might
wonder if the hotel is a temporary stage set for a south of
the border film noir, a perfect setting for a quintessential
murder mystery. There is a sense of the netherworld about
the place, complete with the requisite spooky music, a
space between heaven and earth. One is taken aback
by a rather intriguing sense of apprehension, not quite
frightening, but exhilarating. Shadows rule every space,
rather than light. Fellini would film at Santo Domingo,
Agatha Christie might find it beyond the pale; she found
the sinister in familiar things, Fellini sought the unfamiliar.
Visitors to Santo Domingo can very much expect the
unfamiliar.
HYLAND
