Considering we arrived in San Salvador with literally no idea what to do or where to go or how to get there, we’ve done great. Not having a plan probably sketched out the recent Loyola grad we met at the airport. She assured us that El Salvador is no doubt dangerous, but that we’d be fine to exercise caution, not paranoia. And with profuse gratitude owed to the phone card salesman at Aeropuerto Internacional Comalpa, whose second patient demonstration of how to use the phones got us in touch with a cool hostel, we are now well rested and fed.
We’re staying at Hotel Anahuac in Juayua (pronounced why-you-UH). Cesar, the owner, gave us a comfy double bed and private bath, both with a psychedelic experience-influenced mural on the walls. After a rather accidental four-hour siesta, we wandered into Uhuru Cafe where we wolfed down lamb kabobs with peppers, potatoes, rice, local cervesas and tarte sonriente (cream cake–kind of an El Salvadoran tiramisu) for dessert.
The patio here at the hostel has views of volcanoes and a lush courtyard surrounded by hammocks–the perfect place for relaxation and reflection on the complex and somewhat contradictory images we witnessed on the bus ride from San Salvador to Juayua via Sonsonate. And so we shall.