El Salvador is the smallest country in Latin America and also the most densely populated. Seven million people live here (or around 300 per square kilometre) and several hundred thousand Salvadorians also live in other Central American countries or in the United States, mainly displaced by civil war or land shortages. It has close links with the US, most obviously demonstrated by its adoption of the dollar as the national currency, but also apparent in the incredible array of fast-food restaurants on display in the capital of San Salvador. Another unfortunate import is gang culture (ironically brought in by Salvadorians returning from the US), which statistically makes El Salvador the most violent country in the continent, a fact completely at odds with our experience of the place…or at least it was until our transport shenanigans yesterday. (*Parents – before reading on please note that at the time of writing we are alive and well in Nicaragua). The local people that we encountered were very kind, helpful and generous with their smiles, perhaps even more so than any other country we’ve travelled through. It’s just a pity that we found their accent so completely incomprehensible.
On arriving from Guatemala, our first priority was to hit the beach and take advantage of the great surf they have here. In fact, the surf is almost too good – we struggled to find a place with mellow enough waves for our meagre skills. Nonetheless, we ended up at a very chilled little village called El Zonte on the Pacific coast and embarked upon another round of surf lessons with the almost horizontally laidback Alex (who bore more than a passing resemblance to Anthony Kiedis)
The beaches in this part of the country are made of black volcanic sand and are subject to some quite ferocious currents and swells: pro surfers have been coming to these parts for decades to take advantage of the conditions. After a couple of sessions with Alex we were let loose on our own, and promptly realised just how sketchy it can get out there in the ocean. Having paddled two hundred metres off shore to reach a break, the wind abruptly picked up and the ‘small green waves’ that had been recommended to us suddenly became pretty freakin’ big indeed. After getting a proper pummelling a couple of times we realised we were way out of our depth (if you’ll excuse the pun) and made a hasty retreat back to shore, or as hasty as we could whilst fighting a rip tide. You get the picture. The next day we contented ourselves with watching the locals tear it up in the El Zonte surf competition. The guys and girls here are seriously good: most of them have been surfing twice a day since they were eight. However, as you can see, they have a pretty nice backyard.
San Salvador is a difficult city to understand. The centre is widely thought to be dangerous and best avoided after dark, but it’s pretty much obligatory to visit as it’s the transport hub of the whole country. Passing through it on the bus it looks dilapidated and unloved – razor wire and graffiti are universal features. This run-down flavour may in part be due to the fact that the city has been destroyed by earthquakes no fewer than fourteen times, the most recent of which was in 1986. However, the outer barrios of the city are completely different. We ended up staying in a guesthouse in a leafy suburb near to the University and the commercial centre of the city. The razor wire is omnipresent here too, but the houses are well maintained and there are parks every few blocks. We headed to a pupuseria down the road for lunch. Pupusas are maize pancakes filled with a variety of ingredients, most typically beans and cheese. They are the most traditional Salvadorian dish and are also absolutely delicious. (Unfortunately the same can’t be said for their beers which are weak and tasteless. Pilsener is the best of a bad bunch.)
After lunch, we did a spot of window shopping. Strolling down the Boulevard de los Heroes, you could forgive yourself for thinking you’d been transported to North America. The main strip is lined with fast-food joints (including the ubiquitous Mister Donut - we counted four in the space of two hundred metres), multi-plex cinemas and shopping malls. We strolled around the Metrocentre (the largest mall in Central America) feeling faintly bemused, then stopped off for a coffee in the Salvadorian version of Starbucks (weekly special: frozen orange crunch caramel latte) to gather our thoughts. Apparently back in 2002, George Dubya called El Salvador one of the “really bright lights” of Central America due to its forward-thinking economic and trade agreements with the US. But it would be a crying shame if the ‘development’ of Central American countries turned out to be synonymous with them becoming homogenised miniature versions of the US. Surely there is a way of promoting economic growth whilst retaining the cultural integrity and diversity of these beautiful countries, rather than branding and logo-ing them to within an inch of their lives?
Suchitoto, in the North of El Salvador, is a million miles away from the malls of San Salvador. It is home to many artisans, poets and intellectuals, hosts numerous fiestas, and is considered by many to be the cultural centre of the country. Sadly, we didn’t go at the right time of year to see the Cerdo Encebado: a competition in which a pig smeared with lard is chased by the townsfolk. The person who manages to grab the pig and hold it is allowed to keep it. A return visit seems more and more inevitable! We spent a couple of days soaking up the refined atmosphere in the town, mooching round galleries and sitting in cafes supping expresso. We also walked out to see Los Tercios, a nearby waterfall formed from striking hexagonal black basaltic columns (rather like the Giant’s Causeway). From the top, it was possible to see over the lake to the nearby volcano, a really lovely vista.
Our return journey to San Salvador the following day contrasted somewhat with all this tranquillity. We were told by a local that the bus we needed to take back to the capital would terminate at San Martin (about 20km away from the city), at which point we would need to get a minibus into San Salvador itself. We didn’t think too much of this at the time. However, we did notice that the bus was really quiet, and that there were a lot of army checkpoints along the road. When we got to San Martin we learned that one of the gangs in San Salvador had threatened to set fire to buses on route number 129 unless a ransom was paid. Guess which route we were travelling on. We finally got onto a packed minibus into the city, which was stopped twice by police along the way. All of the men, including the gringos (much to the local ladies’ amusement) were thoroughly searched…kind of reassuring in a way. Driving through San Salvador we saw many army officers with machine guns stationed in strategic positions. When we got off the bus, a local stopped us and said “Welcome to San Salvador. Be very careful today, it’s like a war zone”. Later on, we found out that nearly all buses in the city had been suspended due to further threats. Nice.
We swiftly bought onward bus tickets to Nicaragua and found ourselves a well guarded hotel to stay in for the night. After that, we got a taxi over to the poshest part of town, to check out the Museo de Arte de El Salvador in the Zona Rosa. Here the Hilton hotel rubs shoulders with the Sheraton, and the shops sell haute couture ballgowns and $500 bottles of rum. We went to Pizza Hut and ate an $8 salad before buying dessert in an upmarket French patisserie. Across town, it’s unusual to find a building that’s made of concrete rather than corrugated iron. San Salvador may just be the craziest place we’ve been to yet…
Susie and Phil xxx
