Two days of recovery

I am awakened at 7:00 AM by the sound of a woman singing through a microphone, accompanied by young voices. What is this? A primary school right next to my AirBnB? And do kids start school this early in the morning? I get up, close my window, draw the curtain, and go back to bed. I'm not ready to get up and my brain tells me I really need to sleep.

My flight from Saskatoon to Toronto and then to San Salvador wasn't really eventful, but it was tedious. We were late leaving Toronto as the security lineups for locals flying were 2 to 3 hours long, so when we were supposed to be taking off, half the passengers had not yet arrived. We waited on the plane until every last passenger was accounted for and then we waited on the tarmac for another half hour.

The atmosphere on the plane was completely different from what I have experienced flying to Mexico, where all of the passengers are holiday goers, eager to make the most of their one or two-week holiday. The majority of the people on this flight are Spanish speaking - I assume going to visit friends and family. There are only a few of us foreigners. The couple beside me are transitting through to Costa Rica.

The experience once we've landed is also different from flying to Mexico, where plane loads of tourists are dumped at once in the small airport in Puerto Vallarta and you wait along with the hordes to pass through their system. In San Salvador, I am almost alone as I follow the signs to Immigration - accompanied only by police with dogs sniffing for drugs. I pass through passport control - pay my $12 US entry fee and then through customs. They don't even ask what I have in my bags. Then its out the exit doors into the warm humid night. There's a plaza with picnic tables, a few food concessions, the eager taxi drivers. I've managed to connect my esim (whew!), order an Uber, and am soon on my way into the city - a 45 minute drive. I was nervous about landing in a strange city at 10 PM, but Uber has good security checks to make sure the correct driver and passenger have connected. I would like to chat more with the young driver to learn what his life is like, but, even when I manage to formulate a question that is understood, I can't comprehend the answer!

As we arrive at the AirBnB address, I'm feeling a little more confident. But I feel even better when the code I was given for the lockbox works and the keys to my place are in my hand and have successfully opened the door.

I was sick with a cold the week before my trip and I'm still feeling a little under the weather. I've managed to walk downtown - squeezing my way through the line up of mothers waiting to pick up their kid from the school next door. Past a major cemetery with masons sitting along the sidewalk with their tile-cutting saws, wheelbarrows and bags of tools waiting for someone to what? Want repairs made? Create a new plaque? The sidewalk leading to the centre is lined with tables of watches, sunglasses, socks, kitchen utensils, kids toys - nothing that I could possibly want. I manage to find an actual coffee shop and order a capuccino and watch people go by on the street.

Then I realize that I'm very tired and just want to go home and have a nap! After all that effort to get downtown, which has been revitalized with streets for pedestrians and places to gather with friends. I make my way home, allowing google to take me past the main market - I don't even bother going inside. The chaos of venders surrounding the market is enough. The variety of fruits and vegetables always amazes me. I buy a bag of sliced pineapple, unable to find a small papaya. I pass two different preachers with their microphones and their urgent message.

Later I go out again in my neighbourhood, trying to find a place to eat that isn't too intimidating. Not far from my AirBnB I find a place with their menu on the wall. I order a turkey sandwich. The bun is enormous and the filling of large pieces of turkey, pickled cabbage and other veggies overflow the bun. A tomato gravy is placed on the table, which I guess you're supposed to pour over the sandwich so the whole thing becomes completely impossible to eat. But I did eat most of it, and it was good!

Today, my last day in San Salvador, I had wanted to go to a nearby cultural park with art exhibits, a children's museum, and the Monument to Memory and Truth, which names 25,625 civilians who lost their lives in the violence of the 1980s. There were many more who lost their lives in the civil war and many of those who managed to survive fled to the US and Canada and became our neighbours.
The history of violence in El Salvador is described well in this article, "Monumentalizing Memory in San Salvador" https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/02d7e920271a4535910d318950ed4886.

Maybe when I come back here for my return flight, I will have a chance to explore the city further.