Ups and Downs: A bike ride through the land of Jewels

Everyone I've ever talked to about adventures always find it necessary to say "It was a like riding a roller-coaster". While this isn't the worst analogy, in my experience roller-coaster rides are fun yet nauseating, contain "ups" just as bad as the "downs" and happen so fast that they leave the rider disappointed. 

Now maybe I haven't been here long enough, but in my short time here I wouldn't call this experience a roller-coaster. It's more like bike riding. 

Bike riding can have its ups (like feeling cool wind in your face going down a smooth hill) and its downs (like hitting a turn too hard and eating concrete). Unlike roller-coasters you actually have to work your way to top, and you can ride for as long as your body will allow. This analogy seems to fit a little better.

With that said, during my short time here in El Salvador I have had one hell of a bike ride. Full of ups, downs, rusty brakes, and an inadequate bike-bell. It's been fun, sad, frustrating, enlightening, and even a bit painful. But the most exciting part of all this is that I feel myself growing. 

These are my growing pains, the ones I hoped for when I decided on El Salvador and the ones that I'm slowly adjusting to now that I'm here.

Now that I have a free hour or two, allow me to update you on my life. 

There are so many things I would like to share, but my mind is exhausted and I couldn't adequately do it all justice. So I'll begin with a personal high of mine this week.

When I last updated you all I had been to 2 of the 8 available Praxis sites (Las Delicias and Tepecuyo). Since then we have visited all 8, including mine of course.

This past Friday we ventured by bus to the area known as San Ramon (a small urban community at the base of a dormant Volcano.) There we walked into this small unassuming house with a mural of Monsenor Romero. A lovely woman by the name of Anita greeted us at the door and invited us to the back patio. 

There we met, and were greeted again, by a man named Hector. Hector gave us all hugs, the kind of hugs that mean something, the kind of hugs that let you know (with 100% certainty) that you are welcome. We all sat in a large circle in their patio area, and Hector told the story of El Pueblo de Dios en Camino (The People of God on the way.) 

Hector told us of the Church that for 10 years had worked with the people of San Ramon and established a real and mutual relationship. When the group that was there left a few years ago, the Roman Catholic Church sent another priest to the area. He was not willing to be a priest of the people. He wanted Hector and other members of the community to spend their time in the physical church and do what they asked. Hector and the other members of the community spent their time tending to the people on the volcano above them (bringing them water, supplies, and medical treatment), so ignoring those people was not an option.

After many failed attempts at reconciliation they reluctantly broke away from the church. I'm still trying to fully understand the circumstances, but it was a sad story to hear.

After the sit down with Hector and Anita we all got in a bus and drove up the volcano to an area known as Las Nubes (The Clouds). I was glad we were taking a bus this time, but I knew that I would, eventually, have to make the 45 minute walk up the volcano every Monday and Wednesday. 

The ride was bumpy and uncomfortable but the view was breathtaking. We visited a few houses and met some of the people I would spend the next 4 months getting to know. The house visit that stuck out to me most was the very last house, on the top of the volcano. To get there we needed to walk up a steep dirt path that was so physically exhausting I had to stop and catch my breath halfway through. But my god was it worth it...

Photo Credit: Patrick Diamond

This was the view from none other than Don Adrian's house. Don Adrian (pronounced Don Aid-Ree-On) is a long time resident of Las Nubes, who is soft spoken and makes charcoal for a living. We sat in his humble house and listened to him speak about how grateful he was that we visited him. He said he didn't get many visitors due to his location on the volcano. 

Eventually he took us along this path which led to a smoking pile of dirt. The pile of smoldering earth, he explained, was how he made his charcoal. He sold it to people in town and on the volcano for cooking. This is his work, his life. 

Coming from an artistic background and not thinking before I spoke, I asked him if he'd ever drawn with his charcoal. He laughed a bit and didn't understand what I was asking. I asked if I could use a piece of charcoal. He obliged.

I proceeded to open my small Moleskine notebook, that Maddy gave me, and draw a simple mountain scene. He smiled and started laughing and explained that he didn't realize the charcoal could do that. I turned the page and he asked me to draw some leaves and part of a tree in front of us. I did, and he was so surprised this was possible. 

Photo Credit: Patrick Diamond

As I closed my book and thanked him for allowing me to use his charcoal, he pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket and reached down for a small wicker basket. He put all the remaining charcoal in this bag and handed it to me. I was taken aback by this gesture, and asked if I could pay him for it. He refused and said he'd like me to come back and draw a banana tree for him, on a bigger piece of paper. I thanked him and hugged him for the gift and told him I would be back to do the drawing.

He had been so grateful for our visit, but I was just as grateful for the experience and honor of drawing for my new friend Don Adrian. It was one of those moments I'll carry with me all my life.

With every up there must be an eventual down.

Cue the ominous music.

I woke up Saturday feeling physically drained and I had a stomach ache. That night we visited our last Praxis Site (San Antonio Abad). When I entered the house and sat down I felt my stomach drop. I didn't know what it was but all I knew was that I needed a bathroom.

I found the nearest bathroom, but it was outside, in earshot of the group, had no lights, and housed at least 3 cockroaches that scurried into the abyss as I opened the door. I couldn't bring myself to use it. When I got back that night my stomach was in knots and I couldn't sleep because of repeated trips to the bathroom. When I awoke Sunday I felt horribly uncomfortable and felt nauseous. Not the best way to spend a weekend, I know.

It is now my 5th day with similar symptoms and I am still feeling down in the dumps. Yesterday I had to "make a sample".... I'll let your imaginations figure that one out. 

One muestra (sample) a trip to the pharmacy and 40 bucks later I am now on medication to treat traveler's diarrhea. Montezuma really knew how to place a curse.

I am slowly but surely feeling better day by day, and will hopefully be past this soon. I understand the unpleasant nature of my condition, but felt it necessary to mention as it is a reality of life in El Salvador.

I'll refrain from using my usual puns... but hey S**t Happens... I couldn't resist. For now I'll keep riding.

Until next time,

Much Love,

Hasta Pronto,

Anthony