The Surreal

This weekend I stepped into the surreal…

It’s been one month and two weeks, as write, since I began training here in San Vicente, El Salvador. Yet, until this past weekend I had not strayed too far from our training quarters, and only then in following scheduled training curriculum. Thus, I was unto this point spared the confusion of what I came to find on the shores of the department of La Libertad, in Playa El Tunco. Immediately breathtaking, this area of coastline is known for its stretches of black sanded beaches, imposing rock formations that pepper the shoreline, and the amazing surf.
On a regular day, I’m met regularly by Salvadorans in the village with used cloths, worn and tattered sandals or shoes, and either a machete strapped to the waist or a large and heavily laden bucket perched precariously, however deftly, upon the head. Once stepping onto the sand there was little of this to be seen, and one might feel as though they had traversed an alternate reality. Your classic surfer’s haven and tourist site, the beachfront is dominated by quant hostels and restaurants, surfboard and clothing stores, and of course bars and clubs. Quite the opposite of what I’ve become accustomed to. Imagine my surprise when, after being given a brief tour of the facilities of our hostel, I came upon a bathroom with porcelain toilet, sink with mirror, and shower! I certainly wasn’t expecting this.
Soon after situating our belongings in our rooms that evening we ventured out toward the coastline in eager anticipation of what lie in wait. Preceding the view, I was impressed by the warmth of air and slight breeze emanating from just beyond, producing the salty aroma one comes to expect with ocean beaches. Once there, with the sand at my toes, I could do little to contain the smile which had quickly and unconsciously spread across my face. I only noticed after a time just how much I was enjoying myself, being sure to take in my surroundings thoroughly. This is truly a beautiful country, one which demands owe and admiration to even the most experienced of travelers.
I was a bit disappointed the morning following when I found that the batteries for my camera had not charged properly before leaving the village. I dare say it was sacrilegious to have left without photos which might hint to the beauty to be found there. Perhaps this is as good a reason as any to be sure this first visit will not prove also to be the last. I did, however, enjoy myself thoroughly from early morning through the afternoon. Exerting my strength against that of the waves I found myself the loser, admitting defeat in the end; but not before having a time at attempting to surf the world famous breaks with a board rented and generously shared by a fellow volunteer.
I had planned to spend just a single night there before returning, and retrospectively was glad for having decided to do so. After just a short time away from my host family I began missing their food, their company, and felt guilty that I was able to travel and enjoy myself while they continued to toile with their regular day. Actually Peace Corps has a popular, (though unofficial I’m sure), term for this: site guilt. Though a bit silly if you really take the time to think about it, I was glad to find myself back with my host family that same evening, the trip being only an hour and a half by taxi. I would suggest, however, that anyone interested in travel here be sure to lend some time to the area. It would surely be time well spent.

A well needed break from the toils of learning a new language, I feel refresh and ready to start anew…