Day 2: San Salvador

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We woke at 8:30, or tried to. The bed and breakfast is very comfy. Today was dedicated to tourism, but first we ate. People here eat such large breakfasts! Eggs, plantains, beans, some kind of cheese, I just ordered toast, as breakfast is always a minor meal for me.

The plan for the day as to look around at the city and learn a bit more about the history concerning Romero and the war.

We walked where ever we went, but boy was it hot! The streets were lined with houses, poor mixed in with the rich, shanties and mansions.

Everything there was so colorful. The houses were painted with bright colors and even the trash and recycling cans were bright reds, greens, yellows, and oranges. In contrast to the happy, brilliant colors were the police and armed guards who seemed to stand on nearly every street corner. We walked past a school where little children were playing outside inside an area bordered by barbed wire fences and watched by guards. A small, skinny puppy laid at the feet of one of the guards who happily let Jamie attempt to pet it. Even though they seem somewhat intimidating, the guards are clearly kinder than they appear.

We walked down to the university, stopping to buy some fruit on the way. These "nuts", when pealed, revealed a tangy, gooey, eye-ball-shaped fruit. Tasty!

As we continued down the road to the gated entrance to the university, some of the girls stopped to look at jewelry a street vender was selling while Whitney bought a bag of sliced mangos for us all to try. The vender put some sort of syrup and some salt in the bag with the mangos. They were unusual, but pretty good.

The campus was like a sanctuary, beautiful tropical trees everywhere, clean buildings...

The gardens were full of flowers, some of which, Phyllis showed us, could be squeezed to emit fragrance without hurting the plant. Next we went to a museum concerning the war. The museum was built in the place where several innocent people had been shot, and showed pictures and artifacts from the slaughter. The very clothing which Romero had worn at the time he was shot were displayed behind glass. The garden outside had been a rose garden at the time, and has since been preserved in memory of those who died. One rose bush was planted for each of the victims. Other native plants also grew in the beautifully tended garden. We saw orange and banana trees, as well as some strange gourd like fruits which the gardener informed us were a natural remedy for nasal congestion. Hot and tired, we all rested on a grassy hill before continuing. The sky hinted at rain.
Next we visited a chapel. It was a very serene and sacred feeling space. On the walls paintings had been hung depicting dude men women and children being tortured as they were during the war. Phyllis explained that the people of the church believed that those who suffered during the war suffered for a cause just as Jesus Christ had. So, just as they hung the typical paintings of Jesus dying on the cross, they hung paintings of their own kind suffering for their people as Christ had. I, while not at all religious, was inspired by the notion. Others in the group struggled to accept the idea that there were portraits of such torture on the walls of so sacred a place. As we rested a moment in the chapel, I could hear, in a nearby neighborhood, some people playing guitar and singing, it made me feel very peaceful. It began to rain as we walked back. going through the campus again Maya and the others made a game of sliding across the slippery tiles next to the dorms. Me, Dao(my boyfriend), and Kyl threw around a citrus we had found at the garden at the museum. As we made our way back to the bed and breakfast it began to really pour! We took refuge in a little restaurant where we got some lunch and drank some more cola. by the time we left the rain was coming down even harder! It was the heaviest rain I have ever seen or felt, but so warm too! We all ran about in it, thoroughly enjoying the experience. Unfortunately, my pretty little blue and white sun dress turned out to be somewhat see through when wet! We all laughed as I flaunted my polka dotted undies through my wet cloths.

Back at the Alicante we jumped in the pool, cloths and all!

We were already drenched, so what was the point in changing into swimwear? We splashed and leapt about as the rain continued to pound down on us, most of the girls in skirts and the guys in their shorts or trunks which some of them had changed into.

It was fun, a good bonding experience!

Later, after changing into dryer clothing, we set off for the market. Everyone was very excited...well, at least most of us. Some of the guys complained about having to waste their time shopping, but their opinions changed pretty quick once we got there. We took our little private van/bus through the heavy and frightening traffic. And I thought traffic back home was bad! The market is held in a giant, warehouse-style building with big open entryways to let people (and maybe a breeze) in. There were hundreds of stands, thousands of vendors, grabbing you or gesturing you aside while holding up their merchandise, speaking in rapid Spanish what could only mean "buy this! buy this!" We tell them no and thank you (two words we actually know in Spanish) and try to move on through the crowded aisles. Me and some of the girls get bracelets that say El Salvador on them before heading deeper into the market. I admire the guitars at several stands and feel an extreme urge to purchase one. Finally, when I asked the price of a small, blue guitar, the vendor gestured me back into the center of her stand and sat me down on a stool to let me try it out. She shows me two other, identical guitars but in different colors. They cost 25 dollars and were made in San Salvador. I decide to buy the red one. A bit further along I purchase a red woven blanket for 10 dollars. It was hard to turn down all the vendors who offered their stuff to us. Actually I wish I would have bought more! But it was so crowded and hectic in there I kind of just wanted to get a few things and get out. It turns out the boys found something worth buying after all. Dao and Kyl bought machetes, some girls bought skirts or cloths, lots of people bought woven shoulder bags.
From the market we went to a huge church which was the burial site of Romero. We were given just 5 minutes to go into the basement to see Romero's tomb. Above where he is buried, a bronze sculpture of him laying in death has been built. After looking around in the dimly lighted basement we took a peak inside the part of the church where mass was held. They were in session as we filed quietly through the doorway and against the side wall of the gigantic, high ceiling church, which was elaborately painted. The doors had to be left open to get a cross breeze, but because of this the noise from the cars outside was so loud that a high power microphone had to be used for the sermon to be heard. It was raining again as we exited. Some people had bought umbrellas at the market. Whitney happily shared what he referred to as his "old-lady-brella" (a flowery and girly looking umbrella one would expect an old woman to carry) with me and a few others while we looked at the architecture of the church from across the street. From there it was back onto the bus.
Our next stop was dinner. It was a fairly long drive up into the mountains and away from the city, but Phyllis reassured us that the Papousaria we were on our way to had a beautiful view of the city. We sat at long tables on an outdoor porch. We filled out a slip of paper with how many and what kinds of popousas we wanted. some people ordered weird, frothy drinks which tasted strongly of peanut butter. Most of us disliked it, but Kyl downed several glasses. It was Kyl's birthday that night, so the adults had bought him a cake at a bakery we had passed while walking around earlier. Some of us had gotten him a monkey made out of coconut shells (who was holding a mug of beer and wearing a bright red hat) from the market. Sometime during dinner I began to get slightly irritated with a few people, mainly my boyfriend (who was equally irritated). I think that must have just been a part of getting used to being with them for more than a day at a time. On the way back we stopped at an overlook of the city. I never realized just how big San Salvador is! The city lights spread out through the trees as far as one can see. it was amazing. We made our way back to the Alicante, where I sat around with the others in the boys' room. Tensions between me and the others died down toward the end of the night, though I went to bed still feeling slightly troubled. This trip was going o be hard enough without relationship problems.

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Photos

San Salvador
Nate, Maya, Jamie, and Simone pose as we walk down a street in San Salvador on our way to the University

The "eyeball" fruit
Peter holds up one of the unpeeled fruits we sampled. When peeled it reveals a slimy eyeball shapped fruit which sucks the moisture out of your mouth. No one ever actualy figured out what the fruit was called.

Mango Stand
Whitney samples some sliced mangos we bought from a street vendor

Los Harmonas
Heres the group, all 12 of the students in our group. On the hill above us stands the bust of Romero.

Roses for Victims
At the rose garden behind the musuem a gardener tends to the plants. One rose is planted for each of the victims of the shooting that killed Romero

Rest
Before we leave the garden we all rest on a grassy hill. This one's of me and Dao

Rain Slides
Maya and Laurel run and slide down a slipery hall at the university

Scary
Turns out Dao found something interesting at the market place after all: a machete. I think the dramatic red tint is a nice touch...hahaha

Comments

[Ryan]

Impressed
Sounds like you guys had tons of fun! But i was wondering if you are all from there?

[Jose Sandoval]

It's called "mamon."
The "eyeball" fruit (as you refer to it), is called "mamon." Because you suck on it :) As in "mamar."