Losing My Shoes and My Mind

Written 9-3-08

i am in a place where the only people who wear shoes are the construction workers in their flip flops.

i am in a place where i speak spanish and pay in american dollars.
i am in a place where street signs and 9 year olds are sponsored by Sprite.
i am in a place where the closest internet cafe is a 15 minute drive.
i am in a surfer's paradise, and the sun is shining.

As you may, or may not have guessed, I find myself in El Salvador.
Playa El Tunco, El Salvador, to be exact.

El Salvador is an interesting country. There are no Mayan women walking around with ornately colorful outfits, but a more modern style. actually, it looks as if everyone is stuck in the early 90's. the national currency is the american dollar, which i was completely unaware of, and a little disgruntled by. apparently El Salvador has quite an economy, and a growing sector of upper class wealth. oh don't worry, the chicken buses are still glorious, the women still carry baskets on their heads, and the street food is heavenly. maybe modern times have hit El Salvador, but we are still in central america.

it's funny how in different countries you get different looks from the local population. in Belize a greeting and a smile, and most times a guide to where ever you might be headed. in Guatemala a polite nod or greeting, knowing that you are yet another tourist taking pictures and spending money. in El Salvador you get a funny look. they are almost amused and slightly confused as to why you are there. they are just now getting used to seeing travelers, and if you don't speak spanish, you're basically screwed.

the big towns disagree with me, but the beaches are fantastic. El Tunco is a popular destination for beginner surfers, so with it comes a plethora of professional surfers waiting to give them a lesson. there is one road, two restaurants, and a handful of surf shops. we are staying at an amazing hotel called Hotel Mopelia, run by an eccentric guy from Belgium named Gil. breakfast costs $1.50 and the hammocks are plentiful. the beaches, strangely, are black. they are also covered with smooth, round rocks that come in and out with the waves. you know when the tide is changing because there is a loud clacking sound of the rocks being moved into different formations. with that in mind, it's not the ideal place to lay about, the risk being pelted by massive waves and stones upsetting the peace of sunning and all.

well i'm off to find my shoes, the same shoes i climbed the volcano with. they are still alive.
Me and my Mexican flip flops, seeing the world.