There’s a lot for me to catch up in terms of writing about these past few days… Since my last entry there’s been my Christmas dinner here, a day at someone’s beach house on the Pacific shores of La Libertad, and far too many Cuba Libres (meaning several resultant ‘crudos’ or hangovers!). Then there’s been finding myself at a Salvadorean wedding reception, clubbing with San Salvador’s young elite party people, heading off to Santa Ana yesterday to explore a bit further afield and, today, a hike up Volcan Izalco. Phew! The volcano hike, and journey back to Simon’s house, pretty much did me in today and I’m exhausted. I’m feeling blissfully comfy-cosy, though, having cooked myself dinner (it’s so lovely having a ‘base’ to just rest in and do stuff like that), and having watched some of those old episodes of ‘Teachers’ like I said I might, curled up on the sofa. I could almost collapse into bed right now, but it’s only 8.30pm – therefore I’ll try to rattle off a resume of the last couple of days experiences before I fall into what I have no doubt will be a deep, deep sleep.
Well, Christmas dinner on Thursday, hosted by a couple of Simon and Stuarts’ colleagues, was great. Turkey, bread sauce, roast potatoes, gravy and vegetables (including Mel’s scrumptious cauliflower cheese) were lovingly served up, making me feel very much at home (save for the warm climate and fact that we were dining on the patio – doubt that would have been the case back in Blighty!). There was also delicious smoked salmon and proper brown bread (something I really miss – it was divine) for starter, and plenty of wine flowing throughout the meal. This led to some charade-type games after we’d all eaten enough to burst, and also, I’m afraid, to us adults pouncing on the hosts’ daughter’s Christmas present plasticine (there’s evidently a big kid in all of us) to make our own little plasticine zoo! It was a lovely evening – and for someone who feared they might spend Christmas ‘sola’ (alone), I felt very honoured to have been invited along.
A couple of rum and cokes at Mel and Chris’s after the Christmas meal meant that I woke up on Boxing Day feeling a bit worse for wear. However, I had to perk myself up as I was due to be picked up shortly after 9.00am by Viv – a Couchsurfer who I had made contact with shortly after arriving here in San Salvador. She had offered to take me out for a day at the beach with her and her Salvadoreno boyfriend and his family.
Viv, who is French-Canadian in origin, is currently living in San Salvador with Jose, who she’s been going out with for 7 years now. She’s evidently a Couchsurfing queen, with a profile bearing a string of glowing references from people she has hosted both here and in Montreal (she also has a history of surfing herself – pretty much all over the globe). She was therefore a gem of a person for me to get in touch with, and my contact with her led to a string of great experiences over the past couple of days - all things that I would never really have been able to do on my own. This (and my meeting today with another great Couchsurfer called Zach) has prompted me to promise to really try to get back into the Couchsurfing loop come New Year. It’s something I’ve let slide a bit over the past month or so (mainly, to be fair, because it involves a high degree of prior organisation and time – searching profiles, sending and replying to messages etc., also being certain about where you are going to be and when). As I result, I feel I haven’t been getting off the standard traveller/hostel trail that much for a while now. Hopefully, though, this will give me the incentive to change that when I leave El Salvador and move on to my next string of destinations.
So, on Boxing Day morning, Viv and Jose took me, his folks, and another American Couchsurfer called Chris off to El Trunco, a quiet but renowned little beach some 30 minutes away from San Salvador (sorry – I know that’s another Chris to contend with, but, to help you out, this one is from Memphis, and is a former chef and seasoned Latin-American traveller, passionate about cooking and social issues in this part of the world).
I don’t think Chris or I could believe our luck as our day unfurled at the luxurious beachside house of Jose’s boss, who welcomed us to use his pool and to generally make the place our own. Soon my hangover was forgotten as Jose’s friendly family (that is his two fun-loving brothers, Rodriguez and Henrique, and his rather flirtatious Dad, whose name I forget) cracked open the first of many beers (hair-of-the-dog – why not?!) and invited me to join them in sunbathing and splashing around in the water. After a while the guys went off to the local market (La Libertad is apparently a great place for buying seafood) and came back to prepare a delicious lunch of freshly fried fish, shrimp cocktail, salad and tortillas – delicious! Once that had settled we wandered down to the windswept local beach (which was blissfully quiet save for a few holidaying Salvadorean families) to swim in more natural surroundings. For not the first time on my recent travels, swimming here made me feel exhilarated but essentially minute and powerless in the grip of nature’s forces. The waves were extremely turbulent and Chris and I got some war-wounds as we jumped them and made our way back to the shore, getting dashed against some hidden rocks as we went. No serious injuries were sustained, though, and another cold-beer took away the sting from some of my grazes! That night we went back to Viv and Jose’s place in San Salvador (they have a great flat with fantastic views after dark – I really have been taken aback by how pretty this volcano ringed city is) for some more drinks. However, all the sun and wave jumping had taken it out of us, I think, and most of us were pretty tired.
The next morning I treated myself to a restorative Salvadorean breakfast at a nice café local to Simon’s house (eggs, beans, sausage, fried plantain, tortillas – just the ticket when you are feeling a bit rough after a boozy night!). I then decided to venture out for a run. Couchsurfer Chris is a runner like me, and is actually training for a marathon. He told me about a local and, apparently safe, park where he had done some training over the past few days. I therefore thought I’d take myself off there to get some exercise. It felt a bit daring, getting on a local bus (which I have been told are frequently subject to hold-ups and robberies), as an evidently non-Latina chica (in running shorts as well!). However, it was daylight and busy, and I didn’t want to feel hemmed in at Simon’s place. It’s a tough call here, I think, deciding what is safe and what isn’t. The American Peace Corps volunteers I met up with today for my hike tell me that violence against non-gang members (it seems that gangs made up of Salvadorenos deported from the US in the early 90s are at the centre of nearly all the trouble here - essentially transplanting their turf wars from the streets of L.A. to the streets of San Salvador), is very rare, especially against foreigners. However, caution needs to be taken – and hardly anyone, it seems (local, seasoned ex-pat, or tourist), would be advised to take a bus at night (often, apparently, it’s the poor bus-drivers and ticket collectors who get gunned down by gang-members for not ‘paying their dues’). This kind of public transport fear feels strange for me, being a night-bus champion, even on the mean streets of my home in Hackney (where I’ve thankfully never encountered any serious trouble). I’ve been playing it safe here, though, and taking taxis a lot. At times (it happened in Santa Ana last night) I’m pretty sure that ‘gringo tax’ (bumping the prices up for anyone who might be American) has been applied to my fare, and it would be pricey to sustain this kind of travelling for a long period of time. For the duration of my short stay here in El Salvador it’s OK, though, and I guess I should think in terms of supporting the local economy. Another thing I have learned is that this is going to take a battering given what is currently happening financially in the U.S. (I’ve been told that 25% of El Salvador’s economy relies on the money that émigrés send back to their families from the States).
Anyway, that was a little cultural aside about life here... My run on Saturday afternoon was actually quite fun and sweetly entertaining. The park that Chris had recommended to me turned out not to be the big, leafy place with a track that I had imagined. Instead, it was more like a small town square. At first I felt almost too self-conscious to pick up speed and start jogging round. I didn’t want to have gone all that way for nothing, though. Once I plucked up the courage to get started, I soon found I had a little following of 3 Salvadorena girls (probably aged between about 7 and 11), who seemed absolutely fascinated by what I was doing, and who started running round with me, bombarding me with questions and chat as I went. Everyone else probably thought I was nuts, but these little ‘amigas’ were cool with it, and, in the end, I managed to get a decent run in and get back to Simon’s safely.
Viv invited me out again that evening for a Salvadorean Saturday night on the tiles and, bizarrely, this started off with us stopping by at the wedding reception of a couple of her friends who had just got hitched! I felt a bit out of place initially (although I had a smart-ish top on, I was in jeans). However, she insisted it was OK for me to come along briefly, just to wish the bride and groom well with her, and to get a glimpse of a Salvadorean wedding. It certainly looked like it was going to be a glitzy and cheerful event (the bride looked very glamourous, and her bridesmaids gorgeous too in tangerine satin dresses – this worked much better than it sounds, believe me, it must be their lovely tanned Latino skin…). After that it was off to a swish bar in San Salvador’s Zona Rosa, and then on to a club called ‘Code’. To tell the truth, this was pretty much like the clubs I went to in my student days about 10 years ago – a youngish crowd, but this time dancing to Latino beats and salsa in a strobe-lit and multi-tiered space. I guess it gave me insight into how the youthful and moneyed crowd in San Salvador like to party – with smart clothes, designer shades and fast cars (that, again, they seem to drive no matter how much booze they’ve consumed – kind of disconcerting). It’s a certain kind of high-life lived by a certain strata of society here I suppose – good to dip my toe into but, come the morning, I was feeling ready to get away from the city and see what else I could of other parts of El Salvador, and other sides of life here.
This prompted me to set off for Santa Ana yesterday – the country’s second city, and a place I had heard was relatively pretty, and a worthy destination for a day or two. I thought that I could spend a night there (having heard about a good hostel there through travellers website reviews) and then head down to the ‘Parque Nacional Cerro Verde’ the next day, to meet Zach, the Peace Corps volunteer/Couchsurfer who I had agreed to go for a hike with up the Volcan Izalco volcano.
Getting a bus to San Salvador’s Eastern bus terminal (from where buses to Santa Ana left) was fun and games, mainly because Salvadorenos gave me a multitude of conflicting pieces of advice over which number and direction to take (I don’t think they ever want to lose face by admitting to not knowing – instead they just tell you the first thing that comes into their heads). It was also an entertaining palaver just because buses in El Salvador, well, are (except, I guess, when they are being held up or a shoot-out is going on inside one)! They all seem to be fitted with surf-style fins on their roofs, and are usually adorned with fearless and bold Church-y messages in loud graffiti like typescript (usually slogans to the effect of ‘God is my guide, if I don’t return it is because he has taken me’, or ‘Jesus, king of kings, direct me’). People are crammed onto them like sardines before they ever go anywhere and, then, just when you are rolling your eyes at the ludicrousness of it all, a bunch of women will get on with baskets of ‘pupusas’ (I’ll explain what they are in a minute) on their heads, or skewers of grilled meat in their hands, intonating how tasty their food is, and trying to sell you a snack! It’s mayhem, but certainly an experience – and I haven’t even got started on how Salvadorenos drive (right of way seems to be a complete free-for-all). God forbid, but if I meet the end of my days in some kind of road-pile up here I hope I really will surf straight up to heaven on the shark-finned style bus, just as the stickers on the dash board seem to promise!
Anyway, resisting the rhetoric and pamphlets of a local church spokeswoman lady who got on the same bus as me, I eventually got to Santa Ana and checked myself into ‘Casa Frolaz’ – a friendly guest house run by a very helpful and travel-savvy Salvadoreno called Javier. I briefly stopped for a quick and ultra cheap cantina lunch of pupusas, the Salvadorean speciality which has become my new favourite thing (little tortilla patties, filled with beans, cheese and sometimes pork – then cooked on the griddle and served with tangy coleslaw-style relish and salsa). After that I just wandered around the small city, which boasts a pretty cathedral, town hall and theatre, an attractive plaza, but actually not a whole lot else if I have to be honest. Nevermind, though - it was a pleasant place for me to while away an afternoon in a café, writing postcards and reading up about El Salvador in an excellent little guide/history book that I had borrowed from Simon’s bookshelf (much more detailed than my Rough Guide).
That evening I decided to treat myself to a decent meal out – partly as a post-Christmas indulgence, and because I fancied it, but partly because an on-line travel guide who I’ve been in touch with, called Viva, have asked me to write some hotel and restaurant reviews for them while I’m in El Salvador and Nicaragua. I therefore need some places to write up about. It’s quite exciting and, although I don’t think I’m going to get paid for it to begin with, it’s a good way for me to dabble in travel journalism and reviewing (something that interests me a lot). It will also give me a sense of purpose over the next few weeks, having some work-related tasks to complete (travelling is not all fun, fun, fun – sometimes I actually strangely miss work and having a sense of structure to my days).
So, anyway, yes - yesterday I took myself off to the cheesily-named but actually charming ‘Lover’s Steakhouse’ and ordered a delicious juicy steak speciality that came with chorizo, crunchy salad, sautéed vegetables and a sumptuous garlic-butter filled baked potato. The service was great, and the prices very reasonable (although mid-range by Salvadorean standards) so it will be getting the thumbs up from me in my review! After that all I wanted to do (well, actually, all I could do – Santa Ana doesn’t seem to have the liveliest night-life) was head back to the hostel to read for a bit and then hit the sack.
I was glad I had had that hearty meal and a good night’s rest last night as today’s hike up Volcan Izalco was pretty taxing and drew deep into my energy reserves. At the entrance to one of El Salvador’s several National Parks, I met up with two American Peace Corps volunteers, Zach and Janet (I’d contacted Zach through Couchsufing), and their visiting friend Julie. We joined the small gathering of other people (mainly Salvadorenos – including what seemed to be a church youth group), and all paid $1 to go on an organised hike with a guide and armed police guard (sadly something that’s necessary due to a fair few robberies and attacks in the past). The hike got off to a mild enough start, and this gave me the opportunity to chat to Zach – a very funny and easy-going guy from Ohio – about Peace Corps in general, and about his experience here in El Salvador, where many young Peace Corps volunteers seem to be posted.
It seems the scheme is open to Americans as an opportunity for them to live and work abroad for 2 years (it’s a lengthy commitment), involving themselves in environmental, developmental, and/or social/community based projects in countries where that kind of help is most needed. They aren’t paid as such (although they get a stipend to cover their basic needs) and they are pretty much always the only volunteer in their often fairly isolated communities. This all makes it sound like a pretty tough call (certainly a lot tougher than the Winant Clayton Volunteer work exchange that I did in the States 10 years ago). However, Zach told me that, tough as it often was, the rewards were vast and the organisational support fairly decent. He works with kids as a sort of ‘mentor’ in a fairly remote rural community, and he had entertaining tales to tell about teaching them how to make pizzas, and showing the women from the local grocery store how to produce and market their own shampoo (apparently Zach knows the recipe!).
At the top of the volcano we marvelled at the huge steaming crater (Izalco is considered dormant although there’s evidently still a lot of heat rumbling away inside it). We then sat down (where we could without burning our ar*es!) to share some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (visiting friend Julie had brought Zach and Janet long awaited peanut butter supplies from the U.S.!) and to chat for a while before attempting the descent down again. This turned out to be a lot more challenging than the ascent – it was one test trying not to slide and lose your footing on the loose volcanic scree, then another to make it back up the seemingly never-ending steps to the park entrance on top of the hill where we started. Once we got there we were all pretty sweat-drenched and knackered, but with a definite sense of achievement!
So that was today. I had some more mild adventures getting back here to Simon’s (getting dropped off the bus on the side of a highway by a well-meaning but ultimately not very helpful bus conductor – thankfully I was with another American who called his Salvadorean friend to come and pick us up). However, here I am - safe, sound and pleased to have pushed myself into doing a bit of independent travel here. I need to sleep now as tomorrow it’s off for another hike with another Peace Corps guy in another town called San Miguel. More on that later in the week, though, and I guess it will then be New Year before we know it.
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