Saturday, December 1, 2018

We're Not in Sarnia

We arrived in San Salvador on Sunday. As soon as we went outside, the first thing that hit me was the heat. It was dark and hot. We (the team) waited at the side of the road for the vans to come and take us to the hotel. As we waited, I took my jacket off, sat on my suitcase, and continued to observe my surroundings. There were kids standing in the backs of trucks zooming past us. Loud, non-American music played. Already I could see that the land was obviously rough. All these things were very not Sarnian.

When the vans had arrived and we started for the hotel, I was starting to actually feel like I was in Central America. It was the first time I'd been outside North America (or in a North American isthmus) in ten years. I marveled at Christmas lights, which, in my Canada-centric mind were out of place in the snowless town. My dad was marveling at the lights too. But not the Christmas ones. “Look,” he said. “Fluorescent lights.”

Ben

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