Central American capitals offer few compelling reasons to visit and many to stay away - unless squalor and street crime are up there on your interest list. So hitting San Salvador was always a question mark, until I received an invitation to stay with a couple of locals. Well, a guy from Portugal and his Chilean missus. Arguably two of the nicest people I have ever met.On Friday night, we stayed in for food and drinks with a handful of genuine locals, including Pamela a genuine resident rock star. Then we hit a few clubs in the bohemian part of town, where I attempted to rekindle my memories of salsa dancing - not a good idea. Despite the bars all shutting at 2am, we managed to find a few 'after parties' (lock-ins in English terms) and keep going until 5am. The following night, despite big ideas of visiting the top end of town nightclubs, we all crashed ridiculously early, although I did manage to cook up a storm first. It's a good sign if a diner begs for a recipe.
Out of guilt on my third day, we got out there and drove around for the afternoon. A visit to the anthropology musuem (not a big highlight), customary trip to the mall (which characterise this city) and dinner in the best pupusas joint in town. Like many of these cities, the stark contrast between western-style wealth and abject poverty is chilling.
The most thought-provoking sight though, was the Monumento a la Memoria y la Verdad in the otherwise drab Cuscatlan Park. This monument records the names of known victims (there are plenty more besides) of the 80's civil war. Around 30,000 people are listed, killed by the Reagan supported contra forces. Worrying stuff, especially as it happened in my lifetime.
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