El Salvador...a painted country and a chequered past

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The first thing that really struck me about El Salvador was how genuinely friendly the people were. As a traveller you appreciate the little things, people that give honest directions, who answer your questions with a smile and who greet you like you're a guest in their house. This is how Salvadorans are and because the country has not yet been over run by tourism, they are still very excited to welcome strangers to their country.

Your first thoughts about El Salvador might be of a crime-ridden society, a brutal military and violent street gangs. Put these thoughts aside and imagine a country where even the lamp posts are painted with scenes of children and butterflies, the countryside is vibrant and green and the food is delicious.

My first stop was Perquin in the North Eastern department of Morazan a town famous for being the headquarters of the FMLN during the war. You can still tour the dug-outs and trenches that once housed the freedom fighters. The original broadcast studio for the secret radio station Radio Venceremos (We Shall Prevail Radio) remains as a testimony to communication rights in times of war - the public station being illegally shut down by the military. Martí helped to found the National Liberation Front in his name, a socialist workers party. The peasant and indigenous members led an uprising in 1932, the military responded by massacring 30,000 people; anyone who looked Indian or who supported the uprising. By the 70's nothing had improved and people were still suffering landlessness, poverty, unemplyment and overpopulation. The revolutionary army began to swell and tensions were ignited when the Government assassinated Archbishop Romero whilst saying mass for the poor in 1980. Death squads sought out anyone who supported the reform or who became a member of a Trade Union, soldiers were trained by the US military and Ronald Reagan kept pumping money into the armed forces (over $500 million in 1985 alone) thus sustaining the conflict. It wasn't until 1st February 1992 that peace accords were finally signed. During the course of the 12 year war, an estimated 75,000 people were killed, and the US government gave a staggering $6 billion to the Salvadorean government's war effort. The current president, Mauricio Funes, is an FMLN candidate.

El Mozote was the site of a massacre in 1981, virtually all of the village's inhabitants were murdered and bodies of women and children dumped in mass graves. Over 900 frightened villagers were torn out of hiding and killed, a couple remained to tell the tale. Slowly people came back to the village and brought life to a place of terror, the church was rebuilt and the blood-stained flagstones used in the memorials to the fallen.

Nearly twenty years after the worst of the fighting it is still possible to see the craters left by bombing raids and rusty weapons. The Museum of the Revolution is a humbling homage to all that died in the name of freedom. It is a place that is privately funded by donation, the Government preferring to sweep the shameful memories under the carpet. An ex-guerilla guided me around the exhibits, calmly stating the facts of the struggle, the mangled remains of a shot down helicopter, the scar on his forehead that reduced him to a comtosed state. The unassuming Elgar then dropped casually into the conversation that he was the founder of the FMLN's Special Forces. When I asked him how he feels about the war now - happy or sad - he told me that he was glad it was over but people are still psychologically affected suffering post-war trauma and nightmares. I asked if the people that fought for either side were friends now. "It's all over" he said, "It's just a part of history, all sorts of people come to the museum, even US pilots who once bombed us - we still tell them our story - all we want now is peace, no more war".

Here I had my first taste of real Salvadorean pupusas, basically a fat corn tortilla filled with refried beans and cheese. Perfectly done, they are slightly golden on the outside and the cheese has oozed out onto the griddle to become chewy. They are served with a fresh tomato salsa and a pickled cabbage salad, you eat them with your fingers and need to be aware of molten cheese! Typically they're eaten at breakfast and twilight but I've found they are good at any time of the day!

There aren't too many nice things to say about San Salvador, it's a typically chaotic and grimy city full of fast food chains and diesel fumes. There was no reason to even visit the town centre; I stayed one night in the safe shopping district of Boulevard de los Heroes and saw a couple of museums and that was it really, no Ross Kemp, no gangs. It was hot and I was dying to get out of there but the Anthropology Museum and the National Gallery of Modern Art were worth the stop-over and then the highlight, the Folklore Museum. This little gem housed a small exhibition detailing the history of 'sorpresas', a craft tradition begun in Llobasco, of tiny ceramic scenes nestled inside an egg-shell. Normally these are of typical country activities such as gathering the crops, feeding the chickens or making tortillas. The locals have since been inventive and started making sex scenes, whilst a collection of four depicts the passage of an El Salvadorean going to work in the US. First leaving his family behind, then crossing the river to illegally enter the States, celebrating his arrival and working hard to send dollars home.

Desperate to get out of the metropolis and see more of the real El Salvador, I head north to Suchitoto. What luck to arrive as they are celebrating 150 years of the founding of the city with live music in the plaza aswell as the regular craft market. This town has a wonderful character and it's really come alive this weekend. After ditching my bag I make it as far as the plaza before I am lured by the scent of freshly fried plantain, the sight of Sarita's ice-cream parlour and a bench shaded from the blazing sun. A stage next to the church hosts typically cheesy crooners, bad reggaeton imitators and a preacher man. This is Latin America at it's best, there's nothing better than lazing in the plaza, snacking on treats and watching the world go by.

As evening falls, I have found a friend, the pupusa grills are fired up and a cold beer is in my hand. A few Saturday evening beers lead to dancing in the local club to terrible folk music with the local eccentric population. Sunday calls for a brunch feast, there's nothing better than beef stew, rice and salad to start off the morning, followed by an icy raspado for pudding. We hitched a lift down to the lake where more craft stall, a marimba band and a zipline had been set up. This picturesque town attracts a lot of artists to it's easy going charms and the crafts here are some of the best, I got a few momentoes to remember it by.

Before leaving, I took a hike out to Los Tercios, a local waterfall famous for it's octagonal formations made by volcanic activity, like a mini Giants Causeway. On the road out of town were two fat ladies selling pupusas, I was hoping I'd find somthing like this for breakfast. Their pupusas were delicious, slightly crisp with the cheese oozing out forming a chewy crust but what clinched it was the cabbage condiment; bright yellow, sweet and spicy. After complementing her on the excellent flavour, she proudly told me that it was because she made her own vinegar from pineapples, unlike the other people in town who used watered-down cheap shop-bought vinegar.

The first thing that strikes you about Chalatenango is the huge military garrison on the plaza. It's forboding grey prescence dominates the town and ensures that none of the law abiding citizens step out of line. In fact it's not likely that there'll even be a drunken brawl as the mayor has closed down all the bars. There's a sign in my favourite cafe that two bottles of beer are the maximum for any customer. It was pretty warm here, I spent the afternoon lazing at the 'Agua Fria' water park, only the water was far from cold and refreshing and everyone got kicked out of the pool at 3.00pm. They sure know how to have fun in this town!

A local village famed for it's prettiness was on my itinerary and incredibly it was decorated with hundreds of frescoes of Biblical scenes and regional vistas. Sweet Name of Mary seemed slightly surreal and even painted views of views within the village, lest you should forget what you're looking at.

I took the bus to La Palma that afternoon and was enchanted to find a beautiful little town painted in Llort style artwork. Fernando Llort (1949) a painter from San Salvador moved to the town to avoid political unrest and taught some of the locals how to recreate his style, now business is booming with examples being found all over Honduras and Nicaraguan craft markets. You can while away the hours poking round the shops and seeing who's the most innovative with what they can paint, such as seeds and dominoes. They recently received $200,000 from the EU to teach young people how to paint murals and decorate the town, which looks like a quaint Llort theme park.

Fernando Llort web-site

I prised myself away from the shops to climb El Salvador's highest peak El Pital, at only 2730 masl it's hardly a monster and has a nice road on which to hike to the top. Unfortunately the views were obscured by fog when I was there. I hiked to Piedra Rajada, a hugel cloven-footed shaped rock accessed by a log bridge over a 25m drop. I was surprised to find two adventurous grannies on an outing with their priests at the other side who were kind enough to give me a sandwich and a glass of Cola.

Santa Ana is the second largest city but a lot more pleasant than San Salvador. There was some sort of fiesta when I arrived with lots of stalls stacked up with knick-knacks, teeth-rotters and innumerable deep-fried artery cloggers. The main attraction here is the proximity to Parque Nacional Cerro Verde and the twin volcanoes of Santa Maria and Izalco. I climbed Santa Maria, it was higher than it's sister peak but an easier trek, being rocky instead of sandy. It also afforded us a spectacular view of the perfect black cone of Izalco set against a background of lush green countryside. There was a problem with criminal assaults before they installed the tourist police to accompany groups up the volcanoes. We got PC Grumpy who kept nagging us to walk faster and not to keep stopping and taking photo's! Having paid $8 for the privelage of being here we were going to make the most of it and get our money's worth. The police here are abundant but well respected by law-abiding citizens. "You can trust them here, not like in Mexico", one old lady told me.

Next stop JuaJua (pron. hoo-a-yoo-a); travelling in El Salvador is so easy firstly because of it's size (it is roughly the same as Wales) and secondly, because all the buses are numbered, numerous and stick to timetable. This string of Western villages are part of what is known as Ruta de las Flores, so called because of the white coffee bush flowers that bloom every spring. Though at any time of year it is picturesque; the villages being quaint and traditional. Every weekend they hold a food fair in Juajua and local and international tourists alike flock to the plaza. The restaurants set up their kitchens on the street, serving up such delicacies as frog-legs, snake and iguana amongst chicken, beef and fish. I stuck to steak and had a huge plate of barbecued meat with salad, poatoes, veg and pupusas - all for $5. The villages of Apaneca and Ataco each had their own little food fairs and craft-shops, though the best thing to do in this heat is to join the locals in lounging round the plaza with an icy cold raspado in hand.

There was something undescribably alluring about Tacuba, it wasn't the dusty streets, the super pupusas or the ruined church condemned after an earthquake. It must have been because everyone here was so welcoming and helpful; the bus driver directed us to Mama & Papa's Hostel, mama and papa welcomed us into their home and introduced us to the dogs, ducks and cats, the pupusa lady served huge portions with a smile, even the men in the post office leaned against the counter chatting and showing me their range of postcards. Everything here was laid back and unhurried, in perfect contrast to my reason for being here - canyoning in Parque El Impossible.

Not impossible - just a bit scary! After a two hour drive uphill in the back of a pick-up we got to the start of the trail and hiked downhill through coffee plantations into the river canyon. It was steamy hot weather so jumping into the water was refreshing; jumping from a small ledge into a narrow pool was also exhilarating to say the least! It was pure adrenalin to break with survival instinct and leap over the edge, the last jump being twenty metres high! Actually out of the three of us, it was the boy who was most chicken! El Impossible is so called after the dangerous via makeshift tree-trunk bridges accross a ravine that was used to bring coffee from the Sierra, so many men and mules plunged to their deaths carrying cargo over it.

Back in the home of Mama & Papa we celebrated their son (and adventure tour guide) Manolo's 36th birthday. He had a few mates, a few backpackers, a crate of beer and an 80's music DVD - it was like a karaoke dance-off! Ace.

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Photos

This message is stencilled on most houses in Suchitoto
"In this house we would like a life free of violence against women"