Welcome to El Salvador
Chapter 14. Grandfather Jairo’s funeral
SanAntonio del Este, Rio Negro, Argentina
By the time we had finished landing and securing our positions on that solitary beach, it was four AM. We still had an hour and a half wait before daybreak, under the unceasing downpour.
The lot of us huddled together, beneath the palm tree’s canopy, a large group of sorry raw recruits, poor devil’s in our teens, waiting in our soaking wet gear, while we froze, cold and exhausted. In absolute silence, we tiredly awaited daybreak. Meanwhile, we shivered from the miserable predawn’s chilly temperature, our gear and clothes drenched to the bone and caught in a wretched draft that seeped in from everywhere.
We had traveled many hours by sea, crowded and cramped, in the overloaded Nicaraguan fishermen’s boats, on rough, choppy waters. The trip seemed interminable as we advanced at a pathetically slow crawl in those tortuous water, battered down by the unrelenting rains and blows.
Somewhere in the wet desolate darkness, a low voice, almost a whisper, was scarcely heard. It sardonically said: “Welcome to El Salvador, Heaven’s Surfing Paradise on Earth, and enjoy the most beautiful beaches, under its gentle, warm, tropical sun!”
In the land of volcanoes’ Chapters Purchase the book