I'm going to be in El Salvador all next week. I've decided to hand over the FITS keys to part-time contributor "Mike So Def". If you remember, the last time Mike wrote he gave us one of the very few thought provoking posts in the history of this blog, so rest assured that you will be in good hands... Of course, I haven't said anything to Mike about filling in next week, so this news should be as fun a surprise for him as it is for all of you.
I briefly toyed with the idea of posting from El Salvador, you know, lets see what a "Fart in the Shower" smells like from another country, etc... And since this is a "guys trip" it could have been a great opportunity for me to wax poetic on the details of Central American strip clubs, but alas, I decided against bringing my laptop. Most of my time will be spent in a town where for many people "taking care of the laundry" involves carrying a basket of clothes atop their heads and walking down to the river. The life is just simpler there. You can find lots of people relaxing in hammocks, you can find fresh coconut juice, and of course tamales de elote covered in rich cream, but one thing you
won't find is a WiFi hotspot.
Of course I'll have my camera and moleskin with me, so I do plan on bringing something back for the blog (you know, aside from the sunburn, mosquito bites, and wicked case of gonorrhea).
For now let me leave you with one of my favorite stories from my wife's hometown. It all starts way back in 1969, several years before my wife was even born. It was a simpler time for the people of the tiny country town. There were no TVs, very little electricity, almost no cars, and money was tight... But there was plenty of corn for tortillas and beans for the soup. Nobody was starving.
On a hot day you could walk down to the river, plucking fresh mango's along the way from one of the many trees that lined your path. With the sun beating down on your back you could dip your feet in the water and take a big bite of your mango, not even a care in the world as the juices dripped down your chin and onto your sun burnt chest. It was a happy life.
Across the river sat Honduras. In the dry season the river would slow to a thigh deep crawl and you could walk across with no difficulty. And most residents often did just that. In fact it is not at all uncommon residents of the town to have
padrinos,
primos, and especially
novias on the other side of the river.
Then came the "Soccer War." Although soccer is the only sport that matters in either country, both Honduras and El Salvador's national teams had been pretty shitty up until that point. Then, improbably, the two teams each somehow managed to get all the way to the semi-finals of World Cup qualification.
They were set to face off for 2 games... The first game would be played in Honduras followed by a second game in El Salvador. The team that finished with the most goals scored would advance to the finals and play for the chance to go to the 1970 World Cup in Mexico!
In the first game --played in Honduras-- the locals surrounded the hotel of the Salvadoran team and made noise all night long, preventing the players from getting any sleep. The next day the drowsy team was defeated rather easily by a score 2-0.
This meant that El Salvador had to win the next game by at least 2 goals to force a 3rd and deciding game... Of course word quickly leaked about what hotel the Honduran team was staying in and much like the scene that had played out in Honduras, angry fans quickly surrounded the building. They chanted, let off smokes bombs, threw eggs, and threatened general acts of violence all night long, preventing the Honduran national team from even a wink of sleep... The next day El Salvador defeated their fatigued opponents by 2 goals.
It was decided that the teams would have to meet at a neutral site to decide who would advance.
That game was played in Mexico City and El Salvador won in thrilling fashion 3 to 2. They had advanced to the finals where the only thing standing between them and national immortality was the lowly Haitian soccer team. A team that was, believe it or not, even worse than El Salvador and Honduras!
People all across El Salvador took to the streets in celebration. The partying was mostly peaceful but that didn't stop the press in Honduras from falsely reporting that, in their glee, Salvadorans were beating, raping, and murdering any Honduran immigrants they could find.
This led to a backlash in Honduras where their citizens actually began to
really beat, rape, and murder any Salvadoran immigrants they could find!
Threats were made on both sides, and finally, a couple weeks later, El Salvador invaded Honduras. The people of my wife's town were frightened. Some fled to stay with relatives in the city while things cooled down, but for the most part people just locked their doors and hoped for the best.
The Salvadoran air force (which, I kid you not, consisted of only a couple passenger jets) dropped homemade bombs across the Honduran country side before sending their soldiers across the border. The war lasted for 5 days before a truce was called. Only 250 soldiers were killed, but in the process the people in Honduras' border towns (towns very much my wife's town) all had to get the fuck out of dodge. They had left their houses and ranches abandoned in their wake.
As the legend goes, a couple of hours after the war was called to a halt, the people of my wife's sleepy Salvadoran town unlocked their doors and found that they were still safe and alive. The fighting had occurred mostly on the Honduran side. There had been virtually no damage to the town, and of course the Salvadoran National Soccer team was still on the brink of going to the World Cup!!!!!
It was time to really party! And how did the people of my wife's town celebrate?
Well of course, they ran across the border and stole all their fleeing neighbor's stuff! All day long there was a parade of men crossing the river with stolen loot... mainly chickens, goats, malnourished cows, and even a horse or two! Some people got radios and a couple of sewing machines were swiped as well. When the Honduran town people got back to their homes to find their stuff was gone, they weren't very happy! To this day they're still a little pissed off about those chickens.
El Salvador ended up beating Hatti to advance to the World Cup a couple months later. Of course they ended up getting their asses kicked by Belgium, Mexico, and the USSR. They didn't even score a goal. But just qualifying for the World Cup was the biggest global feat in the history of their country. To them, it was worth it.
Next week I'll be in that little town. I'll walk down to the river. I'll eat fresh mango. I might even cross the river into Honduras. I'm even going to see the Salvadoran National Team play in a WOrld Cup Qualifying match! Meanwhile my wife will be back here in the US holding down the fort... Lets hope she doesn't invite any of the old timers from her town to come over and steal my stuff while I'm gone!
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