Props to the guy who took this photo for me.
Wow. El Salvador was the easiest, by far, country to hitchhike in that one could imagine.
I was hitching north along the Pacific coast, which is reminiscent of California’s famous Pacific Coast Highway, when suddenly, a trucker stopped, played me some sweet Salvadoreño Christian metal, and as we talked I learned I was probably going to cross the border.
Two rides later an insane, insane, trucker dropped me at the border with Guatemala. He talked constantly in an accent that was possibly a slur. From what I could make out, he was talking about strength of both the mind and body. He patted his arm several times I think emphasizng his physical strength, and then tapped his temple for mind. He held out his hand as if for a handshake, and when I shook it he squeezed hard and jerked my hand toward him. (Yes, like Donald Trump used to do).
Breezy entrance to Guate where I crossed the border and got a ride from a family who dropped me off and gifted me a melon. I hitched further, sunlight dimming, and I was dropped at a construction site, where the driver introduced me briefly to some construction workers… Who I shared the melon with, and who invited me to camp behind a nearby church, in front of this beautiful lake:
We hung out behind the church and spoke about migrating and working in the USA. It was a tearful goodbye when they left. We all agreed that the political situation between USA and Central Americans is…sad.
I left in the morning and by chance received rides to Antigua, the famous colonial town. The volcano, Fuego, erupts or burps sporadically, echoing over rooftops like canonfire.
But I must continue! The wedding is in 3 weeks. I am about 6,000km away.
Yogis practice zeal for yoga, just like the practices of honesty or non-harm.
I am full of zeal for life.