I Shouldn’t Even Be Here

48 Hours in El Salvador

June 11th, 2026 (important detail): I texted Javi as I began boarding my flight to “San Salvador” International Airport from Atlanta’s austere Terminal F.

“??” was the reply. His gig down there was July 8th to 13th not June. I insist that I’m innocent.

In a panic, I booked a “Surf Villa” in nearby La Libertad during the taxi and off we went. Too much effort to change any flights and not take the trip. Pretty much everything that follows is a dumping ground for my thoughts on the past two days…

Transportation

South America is largely moved by the deep and throaty lope of heavy diesel engines, just as much of Europe trundles along to the rhythmic clicking of TDI valves. The highways or major roads are totally enveloped by the unmistakable roar and signature black clouds of smoke as buses lumber away from totally unmarked but locally known stops.

El Salvador is another entry into the book of Absolutely Fascinating and Terrifying South American Bus Systems. The busses here are predominantly imported American school bus models that we all know, mostly the 40+ seat Trane or Bluebird models. I swore I saw one with the vague remnants of “New Britain Sch-” on its side. They are brightly decorated with green, blue, purple, or reddish-orange hues, though some maintain their stock yellow, with each color scheme ostensibly identifying a route. But there was no obvious standardization or governing body. Some sport fiberglass wings at the rear, some wear chrome. All have an interesting squat at the rear end, perhaps intentional, or a sign of well-worn leaf springs. While much larger than their Chilean equivalents, these landships are driven with the exact same fervor, although they are evidently limited in their traffic-cutting abilities by their sheer size and weight. My favorite was the 102 bus from La Libertad to San Salvador (I think) in a nice deep green, white and yellow-sh scheme. Fifty-nine cent fare.

San Salvador

I needed to see the big city. The library in San Salvador was explicitly mentioned by the rental car counter folks as something to see and do in the city, so I went there first after parking.

It is an interesting study in dueling hegemons or perhaps a case study of where Latin America finds itself in the global order. It is a very new building, opened in 2023 with striking architecture that sets it apart from literally everything else in the country. It is immediately adjacent to the national palace, on the site of the former national library. It is evident that great effort has recently turned the area in front of it into a large pedestrian plaza, something akin to a national gathering place. It would not be out of place in the urban centers of Shanghai or Shenzhen.

Most interestingly, the library proudly sports, over its entire edifice, a red badge proclaiming: “ASISTENCIA DE CHINA: PARA UN FUTURO COMPARTDIO.” This is about as subtle as a wrought iron gardening tool swung against the side of your head. China devoted $54 million dollars through its aid group towards building this highly modern, 24/7 library. Yet, the library itself is filled to the brim with curious displays of American culture. Star Wars, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and various superheroes fill the lobby and aisles. American computers are draped on nearly every floor. Just outside the library, you will find a Marriot, a Pizza Hut, a Burger King. And in each of these establishments, American dollars pass over the counters.

The Market

As soon as I set foot into the open air market, set just off the main market building itself, a chorus of “Una dollar, una dollar!” welled up, overtook the square, and did not stop until I left. I hadn’t meant to end up here, but I was glad I did. It feels super lame to type this out but the sheer variety and density of noise, the busyness of the square itself, the variety of goods offered, it was like something and somewhere I’d never been before. And it was not for show. People did their daily shopping here and made a living, or tried to. A complete sensory overload. But there’s no way everything was a dollar.

I dipped back into the main market, which was an absolute labyrinthian system that I can only assume was split into an upper and lower level. Organization by type of good was evident but I completely failed to grasp how it was all arranged. Live animals, produce, meats, household goods, food, beer, religion, music; all of it was here and all of it for sale. I was completely overwhelmed and, exasperated, settled on the first place with a menu so I knew what I was getting and how much it cost. It was a nameless stall deep in the basement of the market run by a mother and daughter duo, next to the largest pile of garlic I’d ever seen and kids husking sweet corn while ripping TikTok dances. Globalization.

I fumble-fucked my way through a horrendous conversation (Pollo? I pointed at the stove desperately hoping for the chicken soup… oh she’s saying something… not ready for… thirteen? minutes? fuck. Torta Mixta. crap I don’t know what she’s asking. Si. whatever, this will be good.) Ended up with some sort of sandwhich, which was good, comprised of gamey beef, hot dog, lettuce, tomato. And aguas frescas. $2.30. I also got some sort of sopa de pollo from a vendor promising it for just “una dollar” but paid $7 and it honestly wasn’t much to write home about.

Back at the Beach

Retreated to my Surf Villa after the day in San Salvador. I ended the day up in San Salvador in one of the richer neighborhoods up the mountain (New Jerusalem?) and had some bomb ass coffee.

Ended the day at a “beach bar” which I think is genuinely just someone’s home that’s conveniently adjacent to the Villas, and had four beers for $6. I watched the waves crash up on the scraggly stone beach and generally had a blast just chilling there. What a time. Ace Pilsner. La cerveza de El Salvador.

Got some pupusas at the place down the street for, of course, a dollar each, and that was my night. Kinda sick.

Anyways, check your dates before you schedule these things.