Saturday, 2 November 2024: An El Salvadoran Beach Day

Up at 6:15AM on Sunday, November 2.  I’d planned to sleep in, but it was light out and a bit cool.  So, a good time to walk on the beach and take some photos in the early morning light.  I walked out to the highway and crossed the bridge over the little river that divides the town in two.  From there, I turned at the road which I followed for ½ kilometer down to the beach. 

It was almost low tide, but big waves were crashing and I could see the attraction for surfers, a few of whom were already out waiting to catch a quick ride.  The black (volcanic) sand beaches were interrupted by promontories of volcanic conglomerate bedrock.  Eventually, I got back to the little beach on the other side of the river where most of the bars, restaurants, and surf shops are located.  It seemed like most of the tourists here are young (under 35), be they foreigners or Salvadoreños.

 

It was time for breakfast at Canegue (right off the beach), the best morning fare in El Zonte according to Elisabeth, the manager where I was staying.  It was pricy for El Salvador, $12.00 for the “sweet” breakfast which included French toast, whipped cream, a light syrup, apple slivers, plums, strawberries, bananas, blueberries, and candied pecans.  Instead of my usual morning tea, I washed it down with a hibiscus lemonade.

I’m afraid that El Salvador has been “discovered” as evidenced by a large hotel under construction at El Zonte.  The crowds were not bad when I was there, but they’re sure to get worse as word gets out that the country is now safe and also relatively cheap.  Suppose I’m contributing to the problem by publishing this story and photos on my blog! 

I ran into a group of people picking up trash on the beach.  I told them I was a retired environmental scientist and thanked them for their hard work.  I learned that they are an organized group called “Surf Sweat Surf” - people (mostly women) who love surfing but "give back" by trying to make a dent in El Zonte’s beach trash problem.  The “sweat” part of their name acknowledges the sweat generated by picking up trash in the tropical sun.  I told them that when I was a kid in Rhode Island back in the 1950s, I never saw anything like this volume of beach trash.  The occasional bottle or pieces of fishermen’s lines, yes, but not plastics. 

I could see little pieces of trash (mostly plastics) all over the beach and rock outcrops.  One of the women of “Surf Sweat Surf” thought most of the small pieces are not new but represent plastic containers that have been breaking down from wave action over several years.  I wondered how much of it originated here and how much was transported from all over the Pacific.  Were I King, I would order all the CEOs of the plastics industry executed by public firing squad to make an example of them and sentence all the company officers, board members, and big investors to 20 years hard labor cleaning up the mess they have made around the world.  And, of course, I would confiscate all their assets to help pay for the clean-up.  

It’s not just an aesthetics problem.  Marine life ingests this stuff which is toxic to them and the millions of people who depend on fish for protein in their diets.  And whether we eat fish or not (I rarely do anymore), microplastics are making their way into our bodies.  So don’t tell me that my proposed sentences for the plastic industry VIPs are too harsh!

 

When my stomach told me it was time for lunch, I looked at the menus of some of the beachside eateries.  $8.00 for a veggie crepe; $9.00 for a veggie burger.  Hell, those are U.S. prices.  Then I spotted a local woman with a little stand and a grill.  I asked her if she could make me anything veggie.  She could make me a sandwich on a big bun (must have been about 5 x 10 inches) with guacamole, pico de gallo, and a sprinkling of cheese for $2.00.  She toasted the bun on her grill.  It was too much for one meal, so I asked her to cut it in half.  I ate one half while seated on a stool across from the grill and she wrapped the other half for tomorrow’s lunch on the road.

 

After lunch, I arrived back at my room just in time because the sky opened and dumped a hard, soothing tropical rain for a good half hour.  I lay in a hammock on the patio while watching and listening to the downpour.  After it was over, I did some yoga poses.  The only company I had was an orange tabby.  I think the only other guests were the German couple that arrived with me the previous night.

I watched this storm from the covered patio near my room at the Lot 44 Guesthouse.  This video is a first for me – I’ve never tried to insert a video into a blog post.  Let’s see if it works.

 

Elisabeth, the manager, arrived in the late afternoon after shopping in San Salvador, the capital, some 40 minutes away when the traffic isn’t bad.  She was single, probably in her 40s, and a U.S. American.  We discovered a commonality.  She studied environmental science in school and had a masters in international environmental affairs.  Elisabeth had worked in environmental science but decided she couldn’t take it anymore – it was too depressing considering the troubled state of the planet and the lack of a commitment to do anything about it.  So, she dropped out, moved to El Salvador, and wound up managing this small accommodation for the Salvadoran owner in order to keep food on the table.  She seemed to be a bit of a lost soul but who am I to judge whether she is happy or not.

We spoke about the improved security situation in El Salvador.  She was not here for the worst of the gang violence before the President implemented the crackdown.  Sure, there is still crime in the country, but she added that Salvadoran parents don’t have to worry about sending their children to school out of fear that some maniac monster with an assault rifle will show up and start shooting.

Elisabeth said she used to buy organic produce in the States but there is no point in doing so in El Salvador.  Even if pesticides are not used on crops, the soil in Central America has been ruined by villagers and municipalities burning trash.  Much of that trash is, you guessed it, plastics.  People don’t know what to do with the stuff so they burn it to get rid of it.  The incinerated particles fall back to earth and pollute the soil.  To check out Elisabeth’s claim, I did an online search and came up with the following from an article titled: “The Open Burning of Plastic Wastes is an Urgent Global Health Issue” from The Annals of Global Health (https://annalsofglobalhealth.org/articles/10.5334/aogh.4232):  “Approximately two billion people across the globe receive no municipal solid waste collection. Their wastes are usually buried or dumped on land or in waterways, and more commonly, they are subjected to open burning…The open burning of plastics is also associated with increased risks of heart disease, respiratory issues, and neurological disorders.  The ash from open burning can contain dioxins, heavy metals, and other toxicants, which once settled on the ground, contaminate the soil, groundwater, and thus the organisms [in the] surrounding…environment and their respective food chains.”  Another sign to me that Mother Earth and her inhabitants are screwed.    

I went back to the pupusaría for dinner – I ate two and had them wrap up a third for tomorrow’s trip back to Antigua.  Had to head to bed very early because the van was supposed to pick me up at (ugh) 4:00AM.