Victor Gabriel Hernandez joins my long list of driver-guide in a foreign country. Like the fourteen before me, he has been teaching me all the details of culture, politics, education and history of the country. Over lunch together, I got to know about his life journey. He has now convinced me to make a 4 hour trek to the top of Santa Ana mountain and back tomorrow!

Had not seen a cashew tree in a very long time. We used to have two of these in the first house in Durgapur that we grew up in.

One was taken down by the wave. The other stood up.

The surf capital of El Salvador. I learnt that the beach gets its name from that volcanic rock right in the middle of the water. It kind of looks like a pig on its back with its feet upward. In Salvadoran Spanish, Tunco is a slang for a pig.

Ergo…

Playa El Majahual – apparently this is where all the families from San Salvador swarm to on a sunny day like today. Very kid friendly (down to the numerous ice cream carts and horse rides) and laid back. Spent a few minutes there. It was too crowded for me. You can get an idea from the picture.

Unlike the Caribbean beach, the sand here at first sight looks very dirty. Upon closer inspection, you realize that the sand is really black in color. It is as fine as the Caribbean but because it is mostly pulverized volcanic rocks, it gets this black color.

This is a close up picture of the sand.

We reached La Libertad after about a 45 minute leisurely drive. Very active with all the Sunday holiday crowd. Check out the size of the waves.

One thing I did not realize is how much China is investing in El Salvador. They are now building a new port right next to where we were.

First day is for the beaches. Headed down Highway 4. So far, the country looks very green. And the roads are in very condition. The traffic is very disciplined too.

Normally, I am not the adventurous one when it comes to food. For breakfast, give me my daily fruit and vegetables and peace shall be held the rest of the day. In a pinch, I will resort to eggs and that is about it.

Sharmila, on the other hand, never ceases to try out local food. Which typically means half the time, she will steal food from my plate. And chalk up one more food name to the list that she will not try again. Incidentally, as I sat down for breakfast here in El Salvador, she sent a picture of having a gin and tonic at the hotel bar in Agra. True to form, she is having a local gin (Jaisalmer).

This time though, throwing caution to the winds, I decided to try whatever the lady was making at the end of the breakfast bar. I quickly surveyed and came back. Then I asked Raquel what was the name of the food. I met Raquel yesterday and her English was a bit better than my Spanish. That is something different in this country from every other Spanish speaking country I have been to. Very few people understand English here – even in their best hotel in the capital city.

“Pupusa, Senor!”

“Gracias, Raquel!”

Armed with no more knowledge than the name of the food, I went back to the stall. And carefully watched the proceedings with the previous customer. Hoping to cut and paste most of the conversation.

In an exchange uncannily reminiscent of Srini and I ordering at a Macdonald’s for the first time after landing in the USA, this is what happened…

“Pupusa?”

“Si, Senora”, I boldly put a quarter of my sum total of known Spanish words forward.

Then she counterattacked with a lot of Spanish words. I was smart enough to understand that there was a question mark in the end. But not smart enough to do anything but stare at her helplessly.

Then she said more things. I got the last word – queso! I knew that word. I avoid cheese.

“No queso!”, I replied with some degree of satisfaction.

Then she volleyed some more Spanish words at me.

This time, I panicked. Summarily abandoning my Spanish, I said “Yes!”. Figured let her put everything else in it and I will just leave the whole Pupusa thing at my table.

My friendly fruits and vegetables was only one stall away.

Now, I am sitting with my misadventure at my table. Lest anybody around me think I am a village bum, I pointedly took some pictures and posted them on my Facebook to show off my sophistication!!

Where is a good masala dosa when you really need it?