Friday, 15 March 2019
Ataco, El Salvador
Great start to the day sitting outside on the terrace eating breakfast surrounded by lawns and a rustic courtyard set against a bright blue sky. Life is good. Very good. We’re all very happy where we are. This is a nice place to spend a few days.
Morning spent driving to three local towns to see the markets, churches and museums.
People. Places. Things.
As is usual with all these small towns, there’s the central square with a church at one end. Entering Nahuizalco visit the local market. Plenty of fresh produce on display being sold by women in their brightly coloured dresses and most of them wearing a tea towel on their head to protect against the sun. See a woman selling fresh live crabs from a large bowl. Last time I saw crabs for sale was Alausi in Ecuador all those weeks ago. Seems a lifetime ago though. See some local tourists climbing onto the church roof through the belfry tower with a selfie stick. They climb to the top of the roof with their selfie stick. One of the more bizarre things I’ve seen on this trip. Small museum dedicated to the 1932 massacre of a number of peasants who were revolting against low pay and poor living conditions. It’s a precursor to what happened during the 1980s Civil War.
Can’t begin to tell you how friendly everyone is here in El Salvador. Feels very safe and not what we were expecting at all.
The next town of Juayua is know for its church with a black Jesus. The theory being that the Spanish bought a white Jesus but the locals didn’t take to a white Jesus as he wasn’t the same colour as their skin so the Spanish painted him black so the locals would have a greater affinity with him. Outside the church, an old wisened man is selling what can best be described as Slush Puppies from his mobile stall. A block of ice is turned on a metal grater to create ice shavings. These are scooped up in a cup and compacted to which various flavourings are added (see video below). Incidentally, Juayua’s local supermarket stocks Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce. Not what you’d expect to see in the middle of El Salvador!
Nearby is the Green Lagoon. A lake formed in the caldera of a dormant volcano. Steep roads up the side of the volcano then steep and twisty down into the caldera. Heavily wooded with a tranquil lake, locals enjoying picnics and fishing. Very idyllic spot and you get the sense of being closed in by the volcano sides.
Returning to Ataco, see go-karts racing down the mountain roads. They’re gravity driven and carry firewood from the forests above to the towns below. Quite some speed they get up to and the only brake is by applying pressure with your feet onto two strips of rubber (made from an old car tyre) onto the road. You’d have to apply some pressure though given the weight and speed.
Wander around Ataco. It’s a lovely old town and very friendly. Poke my head into a barber’s shop to see what’s what. Old bloke is cutting young lad’s hair. Ask if it’s OK to take a photo. No problem. If you look closely at the photo below, you’ll see that the walls are lined with old calendars. Next door is a bar so pop my head into that to see what’s what. My fellow traveller decides now is a good time for a beer so an order goes in to the young woman whose bar it is. She tells us there’s a courtyard out the back. Assuming it’s a beer garden, go and have a look. It’s not. It’s a courtyard lined with shanty type dwellings. Thirteen shacks to be precise. Made of odds and sods. Corrugated iron. Plastic sheeting. Pallets. The sort of thing you might build to house animals in back home. Except. These are people’s homes. USD35/month rent for one of these out the back or USD80/month rent for a stone built dwelling that fronts on to the street. Which means you can use it for a business. Like the small bar she’s created. As we walk through to the back, see the small lounge area. Her daughter is busy colouring in a book on the sofa, surrounded by dining table and TV set. That’s their living and sleeping space. A timber framed enclosure covered in plastic sheeting adjoins the outside wall. Inside is a large plastic water butt and a toilet. That’s the bathroom. Very basic. Next door to her we start chatting with an old man. It’s her 82 year old grandfather. He’s ex army and looks fit as a fiddle. His living space is very small too and a table in the room has a small Catholic shrine set up with religious figurines. His outside wall consists of torn plastic sheeting. As I wander about the courtyard, an old woman pokes her head out of her door and comes to see what’s what. As I have camera in hand and having a nosey, she asks if I’m a journalist. No. Just a simple tourist. Her husband soon appears from the shack and they allow me to take their photograph, which they find amusing when I show it to them. Fascinating insight into people’s lives.
Walking back to hotel, see the hotel staff setting up a table on the street corner. Assume it to be a publicity thing to entice people in for dinner. As we’re walking out for dinner later on, realise there’s a religious procession about to take place from the church opposite. Prime location to take photos is the street corner where the dining table had been set up. So stand there. To watch proceedings.
The processional music is awful. Think of some old film set in a Central American dictatorship which has your stereotypical town band playing crap music. That’s what we’re listening to. Jesus appears on a ‘raft’ held aloft by lots of young men on their shoulders. It looks heavy and is quite big. A few men have poles to lift the electricity and phone wires up, that are strewn across the road, so Jesus doesn’t garrotte himself. As Jesus approaches, two young women kneel at my feet and start praying. I have this effect on people. After a few seconds, realise they’re praying at to the dining table I’m standing at. A few seconds more, realise the dining table isn’t a publicity stunt for dinner but is in fact full of religious figurines (it’s dark and hadn’t paid much attention). Oh. It’s a religious shrine. Move to the side of the table so they can see the table and pray.
Few minutes later the Catholic priest and his entourage of young boys appears behind the two women praying in front of me. He then kneels down, along with his boys, and starts praying towards the table. Erm. Think I’m standing in the wrong place here. Move a couple of steps away from the table.
And then.
The two women produce a radio mic and start praying such that the prayers are coming over the PA system. The procession stops. People stop. They turn and look at me next to the table. And they all start praying enmasse.
Oh ‘eck.
Have hundreds of eyes looking at me next to table photographing the scene before me.
Now is a good time to move well away from the table.
Praying finished and the procession continues. Jesus makes his way down the road all lit up with fairy lights. Followed by Mary. Followed by a load of blokes carting a diesel generator and a load of cable to power up the lights.
And if that wasn’t enough excitement…
Walking back from dinner, hear music emanating from a bar. As it sounds quite good, go and investigate. Poke my head around the open door. A bloke is singing with his guitar in a basic room filled with people sitting on plastic chairs. The back row see me and, being very friendly, they motion for me to come in and sit down. This then causes the front rows to turn around to see what the commotion is. So I’ve now got the whole room of about twenty five people looking at me, motioning for me to come and sit down and enjoy the music. Am then joined by my three fellow travelling companions plus the local guide. The singer is still singing whilst all this commotion is going on. Assume it’s a local bar with live music so we make our way to a few vacant seats at the back. Singer finishes his song and then welcomes us to the group. Tell him we’re English but as his English isn’t brilliant our local guide translates.
Anyway.
Turns out that we’ve gatecrashed the left wing revolutionary party’s benefit gig. The FMLN political party were the left wing guerrillas during the civil war. They’ve just lost the local election to a right wing party and so having this gig to pep up the local lefties. You know how easily these leftie socialists get upset by not winning elections.
Now. As some of you may know. I’m not left wing. This may surprise some of you.
However. My three travelling companions are leftie socialists. Hard left.
And don’t I know it.
Stupidly mentioned Brexit one evening. Deary me. Hysterical.
The married couple, in particular, actually protested at the US Embassy in London in the 1980s in support of their fellow left wing revolutionaries in El Salvador.
Amongst other protests.
But they do enjoy their second home in France.
So.
You can imagine the glee that they’re here now amongst former left wing guerrillas and revolutionaries. This story is translated for the benefit of the assembled crowd.
Well.
This gets the audience going no end.
The round of applause they got was loud and long.
And there’s lots of thank yous.
Making my way back to the hotel, everyone I pass in the street says, “Buenos noches.” (Good evening). Really friendly.
El Salvador.
Loving it.
