Arrival at the Salvadorean coast
Chapter 14. Grandfather Jairo’s funeral
Historic Centre, Puebla, Mexico
I arrived in Salvadorean lands by sea, sheltered by the absolute darkest of nights. The tide had reached its highest point, and the breakers washed all the beach under them, submerging it entirely. Because of that fact, it was senseless to bother to cover our tracks and landing. So we proceeded to disembark in the two feet deep, violently agitated rollers relentlessly coming in together with us.
A patrol was scouting the coast, impatiently waiting for us to appear. As soon as the watch detected us, the soldiers quickly waded in two grab hold of our boats, and still them. We heard their muffled voices, barking orders, pulling us in and herding to the shore as if we were cattle. We tried to do our share with as much energy as we had left in us. We debarked awkwardly, loaded down with those heavy backpacks, fighting the strong undercurrents that crashed with incoming waves. Heavily swamped, we made our way through those turbulent waters, stumbly and scattering, until exhausted, we finally managed to walk on the foremost part of the beach, out of reach of the violence of the incoming tidal swells.
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