I read that a small nearby mountain town was having a special fiesta the next day to celebrate one of their patron saints. I decided that I wanted to be a part of it, so I left the surf beach and headed there. Jicalapa is a tiny town - not even 500 people. There is no direct bus service from the beach to Jicalapa. One has to take a total of three buses to get there. I spent most of the day at bus stops before finally arriving in the late afternoon at this tiny mountain town. On the last leg of the journey, I met this charming young kid, who was clearly quite proud of his small town, and also very proud of the fact that he was related by blood to nearly every person that lived in the town. He would say, "This is my cousin, and this is my Aunt, oh yes, and this is my Brother”, etc. I wondered who in the town was unrelated to each other. In the main square of the town, they were practicing a traditional dance. In this dance, there is a king and several other members of court meant to be members of the Spanish nobility. The have quite elaborate costumes complete with mask, swords, and royal garb. The dance is meant to ridicule the nobility. Mostly, the characters are fighting with each other and swinging their swords around in a rather aimless fashion. My little friend did his best to explain to me what was going on. At the same time, he was also quite active in trying to set me up with local villagers; "She liked you" he would say. He went off and returned with a round piece of bread that looked like a tortilla. I could see that it was not a tortilla, but something quite different. Inside it appeared to have beans and cheese. Apparently, the women that was serving them was also one of the boys many Aunts. I decided to get one too. So that was the beginning of my love affair with Pupusas. A Pupusa is made by taking Maize, (dried corn) mixing it with water and grinding it through a machine until it is soft like dough. It can also be made with corn flower, but the traditional ones are only with corn. Then they use special kind of cheese called Quesillo mixed with butter and a special flower called loroco that is only found in El Salvador. They make them with queso only or they make them with queso and refried beans.
The results are delicious and surprising filling. Three or four Pupusas will curse the most veracious appetite. I have not tasted anything like it before or since, and I am convinced that this might be the world perfect fast food. Even better, the cost of a Pupusa is usually $.30.
Back in Jicaplapa, I hung around with the kid for a while, and I met a bunch if his friends and family. After a while, he started asked me about Pisto: exp. "how much Pisto do you have? Do you make a lot of Pisto?" Finally, "My friend here is in need of some Pisto." After some deductive reasoning, I came to the conclusion that Pisto was the El Salvadorian word for Dinero and our relationship came to a rather abrupt end. Still, he was a cute kid, and I did end up buying him some banana chips and a coconut.
The town is meant to have gorgeous views of the ocean, but there was a thick fog at the time and I could see nothing. I went for a short walk around the town. I got into place where they had clearly never seen a white devil before. Some of the children hid from me in obvious fear of the unknown. Mostly though I was just an unusual curiosity and most of the kids just stared at me in owe as I walked past them. Some ran in to the house to fetch their parents. I imagine what they must say, "There is a white man out there walking down the street...really, I am not lying!" I walked down an impassible road on the ridge of the mountain and disturbed a man as he was taking a bath. He was all soapy and was in very short bathing shorts. At first I was embarrassed at the situation, but he just shrugged it off and greeted me with a simple "Buenos". As if I could disturb him in the shower any old time - it was all the same to him.
The next bus to San Salvador arrived a couple of hours later. I got on it because it was meant to be the only one of the day. Half of the town got on it as well so it was a rough ride. About three hours later, I arrived safe and sound in San Salvador - the murder capital of Latin America.
