Puerta del Diablo and Panchimalco

Tourist day!

And what a day it was. Starting first with a productive culinary morning of homemade coconut milk, green mango chutney and a risotto-ish experiment (which turned out pretty good if I do say so myself), a couple hours later Abuela, Henry and I were off for a new Salvadoran adventure. First stop, Panchimalco.

Panchimalco is one of El Salvador's few historic towns, popular with gringo tourists such as myself for the visible Pipil and colonial influences. You've entered Panchimalco once you reach the cobbled streets and white washed houses with colourful doors. If you visit the town on a weekend, and head over to the church, you will meet Don _ the local Pipil expert who will greet you in the Panchimalco variant of Nahuat. He's a nice enough guy and since it's a tiny town he'll show you around the place and recommend sites like Miguel-Angel Ramirez' art studio and the Panchimalco Cultural Centre. I did not visit either of these, but Miguel Angel Ramirez for example is one of El Salvador's most famous artists known for his children's portraits. So if you're into art, his studio is definitely worth a visit.

The Panchimalco church is one of my favorite churches ever. And I swear I'm not really into churches at all. This one however, is made almost entirely out of wood, with the exception of the front façade which is made out of clay or brick(?). That last part needs to be confirmed. The inner floor is made out of clay and the interior structure is decorated with beautifully crafted wooden beams and altars. The front altar is another elaborate wooden structure which houses various figures of the Virgin Mary, Christ and other saintly figures. It reaches up to the domed wooden ceiling of the altar room. This church is the oldest surviving colonial structure of El Salvador having been built around 1725.

Panchimalco church and Puerta del Diablo

Facing the church, camera poised to take a picture, you will notice prominent cliffs to the left of the church. This natural formation is known as the Puerta del Diablo, the devil's door, and is also well worth a visit if you're up for a short climb that will provide you a full circle view of El Salvador and its major landmarks such as the San Salvador Cathedral, San Vicente (otherwise known as Chichontepec - the big breasted volcano), San Miguel volcano, and Ilopango - El Salvador's biggest volcanic lake. There are many myths and legends surrounding the devil's doorway, the most obvious one being that here lies the devil's entrance to the underworld. But as the entrance to the underworld is yet to be found, plenty of locals and gringo tourists make their way over for a spectacular view. You'll also get a taste for Salvadoran culture from the rastafarian moteros selling hemp products nestled on the side of the cliff, to the reggaetoneros blasting 70s rock at the foot of the cliffs. If you're extra adventurous be sure to wear stilettos for the steep upward climb.

Photies - click to enlarge

Panchimalco church details

A tiny doorway

San Salvador and Quetzaltepec volcano

El Salvador del Mundo - The Saviour of the World, famous monument

Camden Town

I have to say, not doing touristy things has suited me quite well, but today in response to the eagerness and spirited demands of my younger sister, we became tourists. And...we had fun.

Big Ben, West-Minster Abbey, Royal Arts Academy, Southbank book market (LOVE), Covent Gardens, Oxford Circus, and best of all: Camden Town. Discovering the markets in Camden was finding that niche that I've been looking for since moving to London. Markets are my thing, and this one didn't disappoint. It was like wandering around Kreuzberg Berlin, feeding off the punk-ass vibe and the gothic cool. Chatting to merchants and sellers, some eager to make a sale, other happy enough just to talk and feed you story after story. This is where true art lies, within the stalls of those who make a living selling what they make. If you're good you make money. Simple as that. Unless you're years before your time and your ideas are rejected for being too avant-garde, but that is also art.

We met stone whisperer with a story for every single one of the pendants, earrings, necklaces and statues in his stall. For him it wasn't about the design of the rock, but about image hidden within its murky depths. Hold it up to the light with a little imagination and a whole story unveils. A man by the stormy seaside, a witch in the jagged mountains, two dolphins and their eternal friendship. Each stone was picked at a specific time and place to be given to a specific person under specific circumstances. Each one as unique as the next. The merchant wasn't old, late 40's perhaps, with a calm and soothing aura that would quickly become thunderous as soon as any of his stones were mistreated. Half Sioux, half Italian he travels the world collecting stories and experiences with which to feed his infinite wisdom. The world is full of cool people if you take the time to listen. It makes me sad that not many people do.

Antigua

Antigua, otherwise known as the Hoi An, Bonn, or the Pokhara of Guatemala. Backpacker central, gringo land, this is where you go to wander the streets in peaceful safety, marvel at colonial arquitectura and the enormous Volcán de Fuego, twist your ankle on cobbled streets and get ripped off for being a crazy gringa. I should complain I suppose, about how the influx of mostly American tourists has jacked up local prices, food portions and number of English speakers in the area, but then again it's because of the tourists that Antigua is so safe, so clean, so well preserved and so pleasant to walk in. After the panic of the country side (Google 'Petén massacre' and you'll see what I mean) and the political nightmare that is currently the capital, paying a little extra at the market is a small price to pay for a momentary peace of mind.

So what is Antigua?

The city used to be known as the capital of Central America (a quick geography lesson here, Guatemala is NOT in South America, it is in Central America. So is El Salvador). It was the capital of CA and the one of the several capitals of Guatemala (the two previous ones were destroyed by massive volcanic eruptions), until two massive earthquakes destroyed most of the city and the capital was transferred to what is now known as Guatemala City. Original. Today, by some stroke of random ingenuity, the people of Guatemala have conserved and rebuilt the ex-capital, and much of it can still be seen as it was 250 years ago. Some parts are very touristy, but most of it has remained unchanged. The architecture is Spanish baroque, wide one story houses with central courtyards and fountains, the tallest buildings are three story churches which in their surroundings look massive and grandiose. The whole place is a hub of commerce with even the likes of Burger King, MacDonalds and Dominos making a stage presence, but you wouldn't realize it due to the strict preservation laws forbidding any kind of changes to the architecture and any kind of propaganda to be put up. True visual peace.

And yet despite the flourishing tourism and commerce, the community is still very strong. Every year for Semana Santa (Easter), each block of houses works together to prepare and decorate their block for the Easter parades. Colourful sawdust carpets are prepared on the streets. Contributions of bread, toys, flowers, and yearly harvests are made to decorate these carpets depicting the story of the passover. I could spend pages and pages talking about this, but it's late and I don't want to get into it. It'll suffice to say it's beautiful and one of those unique experiences you'll never forget.

So overall summary, if you ever visit Guatemala, chances are you'll end up in Antigua. And you'll love it just like everyone else.

Thailand

Sunburn and mosquito bites, the holiday has started! Actually it started about a week ago as I soared over the Nepalese mountains catching my first and last glimpse of Everest, now I'm sitting here in lovely Chinatown, Bangkok surrounded by hanging orchids, eucalyptus and bamboo bushes, and trickling fountains stressing about the fact that my Australian visa won't go through. My flight is tomorrow. Stress.

Other than that, nothing much to report. Chiang Mai was ok, not exactly the cultural capital of Thailand it claims to be but maybe I'm a bit spoiled for culture after living in Kathmandu. Nevertheless, hung out with lions, tigers and elephants, took a tour to the Golden Triangle - something which I keep saying I will never ever do again, and this time I mean it, "I will never ever EVER go on another guided tour" -  and stood on the point where Laos, Burma and Thailand meet but unfortunately did not get to step into any of these other exciting countries. Saw the long-eared ethnic tribe - a very culturally diluted and depressing sight, won't say more on that,  and explored countless wats and stuppas. Oh and did I mention we went shopping? Sunday market, night market, fruit market, flower market, air conditioned shopping centres offering relief from the sweltering heat. Yes, we certainly went shopping and certainly added another 2kg to the already overstuffed luggage.

Then Bangkok came along.

Bangkok is an interesting city. Every time I come here I form a different opinion of it. You either love it or hate it. It's dirty, smelly, loud and kind of ugly, but ancient and powerful, wonderfully resilient and self sustainable. Not vegetarian friendly, but neither is the rest of Thailand. Public transportation is fantastic, reliable, clean, efficient, excellent city coverage - German influence of course - and cheap! Spent all day touring the city via river ferry, canal boats, bus, metro and on foot and spent around 50 baht. Just over a euro.   It's nice to be back in a big city, even if it is a little too big, 6.3 million.

Onward travels. Sydney and LA next.

Basantapur

It took me 9,339km, 15 hours flight time and a good dose of Vietnamese culture and noodles to make some German friends. Now 2,961 km due West, and a good 15,281.2 km from the source, I can expand my Salvadoran posse. Seriously, the world is bizarrely small at times, yet at the same time this experience is about how massive the world really is despite the current facilitation of travel and communication and resulting globalisation. The world is huge, but the community of globetrotters is tiny in comparison.

Today I happily revived my Latin roots and two Salvadorans set out to explore the secrets of Kathmandu. Armed with two massive cameras, a map which came out every 200 metres, sweaters, scarves, converse, no money but lots of gusto, we set off from the suburb of Patan in true Salvadoran fashion and walked north. Walked and walked and walked, until the map was rendered useless and the meandering streets gave way to conning shamans and multilingual drunken hindus.

“You have camera, take picture?¨
“Is that ok?”
“Yes, yes, make a donation”
“But we don't have any money”
“Ok ok, no money is also ok”
“Que pensas, le tomamos foto?”

“Va, andate pues, te tomo la foto”
“Ok, you take picture? Sit down”
“Sit down? Really? But it's so...dirty”
“Sit, sit, have friends”

All of a sudden, shamans flock from all over the square to have this one picture taken, and there I am, sitting on the dusty sidewalk surrounded by swirling yellows, reds and oranges, painted faces, dreadlocked beards and clinking silver money-buckets. Beyond them, a group of curious Japanese tourists have gathered around Marco Antonio to observe this curious spectacle. Why is that girl sitting at the shaman's feet?

Click.

“Ok ok, now you make donation”
“But...we don't have...tienes dinero?”
“Si, si...ok here, thank you very much”
“Bah! 15 rupee?!”
“We don't have any money...”
“5 dollar...ok ok...1 dollar...”
“...and there are six of us...”

And on it went. Finally after rummaging around deep in our pockets, a dollar was produced and the shamans were satisfied leaving our backs curse free. Still, the target had been set and a few minutes later as we rested on the steps of an old stuppa, a whiff of alcohol and scarred nose approached us.

“Where you fraaam?” Now this question always poses some difficulties because a) nobody knows where El Salvador is, and b) I'm German. The quickest exit is a lie, but this time...
“El Salvador”
“Elsalbadore...that is Spain?”
“No it's actually...”
“But you speak spanish?”
“Yes, we speak spanish”
“You see, Spanish and Italian look very much like Nepalis”
“I suppose we all have dark features”
“Me pueden dar monedas para mi colleccion?” [double-take] “Miren ya tengo pesos. Un peso Argentino vale 60 rupees, y tengo unagrandecolleccion”
¨Sorry, we don't really have any colones”
“EsquehellegadodesdeIndiayestoyparamejorarmisidiomas. Hablosieteidiomas,itallianoalemanespañolinglesnepalinarawiyhindi, ymegustapracticarconlosturistasporqueellosmeentiendentodoslosidiomas...cough cough cough”

Omg, that was right in my face. I'm gonna catch TB and die in Nepal. He went on to demonstrate his language skills - all seven of them strung along in a jumble of words, spitting and swaying with the rhythm, enthusiastically showing off his beloved coin collection.

It was a good day.