Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Sleeping in the dorm did not go so well. Our valuables were fine, though as we suspected, Grouchy had not bothered to lock the door. No one came to join us and we went to bed comfortably full of Subway sandwiches. But I kept waking up in the night certain that someone had come into the room and was sleeping in the next bunk over.

I’d squint into the dark, trying to tell if I could see a form in the bed. It was like night terrors, but without the terror part, just sudden waking with the certainty that someone is there. I wasn’t afraid, I just wanted to know if someone was there or not. I couldn’t use my flashlight in case someone really was there. That’s, like, really against hostel etiquette.

It was pretty annoying and I was glad when morning came and it was light enough to see that all the beds were empty. That’s when I could have slept, but someone was mopping outside our door and loudly practicing for Salvadoran Idol and that was impossible to sleep through. I would have preferred the grumpy silence of the woman from last night.

We got up and walked over to the other spot, La Estancia, to see if they had any room for us. La Estancia has no sign, but we found it by the street number. We had a brief interview on the porch before we were allowed in, and then were allowed to check into a dorm which had much less space and fresh air, but at $7 each per night was a dollar cheaper than Ximena’s.

We didn’t bother to ask about a safe here, we just shoved our important stuff way under the bed. Somehow I feel less skittish about my things when there are a lot of people staying somewhere then when the place is empty. Anyway, it’s all insured.

The bus station and the fruitless city bus rides we took to get away from the bus station were foreign, but here in our temporary neighborhood, you wouldn’t even know we’re outside of the US. We had lunch today at Wendy’s. I like trying the US chains in foreign countries because I like the tiny cultural surprises. For example, McDonald’s in Mexico provides packets of both ketchup and jalapeño jelly. Wendy’s in San Salvador is exactly the same as Wendy’s in the US, right down to the English wording on the foil wrappings and the prices, which are not only US dollars, but the same number of US dollars.

We sat at a booth in the window and we could have been looking out at L.A. Palm trees in the distance and a six-lane road with huge signs for Texaco, Esso, Domino’s, Pizza Hut, a woman selling roses on the median. The only thing that stood out as different was the security guard with the gigantic rifle pacing back and forth in the parking lot.

To continue our virtual trip home, we went back to the nearby mall. At home, the prospect of a day at the mall is not a fun one. We hate malls. But we’ve been away from home for a while and this was a really nice mall. I considered looking into buying a new pair of glasses since the anti-glare coating is wearing off my right lens but again, prices are the same as they are at home so I’m just going to have to deal with it for now.

We bought orange juice at a fancy bakery featuring animatronic baker elves in the window. We were so swayed by the “back home” feeling of everything that when we saw the bottles of orange juice and the sign that said it was “100% natural”, we just assumed that meant “fresh squeezed” which we have not been able to get here.

People fell all over themselves for us. It was surreal. The manager, pregnant, fell back so we could enter first. A covey of young women in cute little uniforms welcomed us with a chorus of “Bienvenidos! Pasen adelante!” Our own personal helper assured us the juice was natural and then insisted on going to wipe the condensation off the bottles before carrying them to the checkout counter for us.

The checkout girl called Michael “caballero” (“gentleman”)when she asked him if we wanted anything else. After we paid the $1.50, we got not only “Que les vaya bien,” but also “Que tengo un buen dia.” It was not bad, but it was weird. As we walked out, Michael said, “I just said thank you six times in a row.”

Oh, and as we drank the icy-cold juice, we remembered that both water and sugar are “100% natural.” So even though the juice tasted just like Tampico Punch, nobody had lied to us.

After that we went to see Las Chronic (que?) clas de Narnia: El Leon, La Bruja, y El Ropero. In English with Spanish subtitles. Narnia is huge here. You get Narnia toys in your Happy Meals and Narnia stickers in your Mirinda and your Submarinos.

If we felt like we were in the US out in the street, it was impossible to feel otherwise in the theater. It was just your standard multiplex style theater with graduated seating and twenty minutes of commercials and previews before the feature. Number of people in the theater including Michael and me: twenty. Number of times a cell phone rang during the movie: five. Number of different ring tones: two. (Mini Narnia review: Nice job staying true to the book.)

Then to wrap up, we had dinner at Pizza Hut where apparently the waiters don’t have sections but compete to be the first take peoples’ orders and thus be able to claim the tip. I think our “we need a minute” may have caused a fight between a couple of them. Oops.

 

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La Estancia, our second dorm of the trip.

Wendy's, San Salvador.

Make it a Blockbuster noche. Boulevard de los Heroes, San Salvador.

Metrocentro Mall.

More mall.

Who doesn't love a baking elf?