La Mirada

I spend night after night wondering what it is that my love is looking for.

Has she been so broken by despair that the faintest glint of sunshine illuminates her whole being? A brighter future illuminated, a future free of the pains and disappointments of today? Is the breaking sunshine over the horizon igniting the hope of 100 Olympic torches in the whites of my beloved’s eyes? The whites of her eyes - the tiniest flecks are comical amidst the sea of pitch-black irises - just barely flicker, like the moonlight’s reflection off the oceans in the night’s sky when no one is watching.

Her eyes, as dark and mysterious to me as the untold stories of the millions before her, are an open sea. Serene and placid in calming waves of endless beauty on the surface, yet tumultuous, unrelenting, and unsettling as I reach depths never before explored by others. I think back to all the times that I have wanted to turn back – take to the safety and familiarity of the surface where I can again breathe – but deep within is where I am tempted to remain, and so I do.

Certainly my beloved knows by now that the pains and disappointments of today will never surrender, does she not? For her these pains have been as certain as the endless fields of corn that grow with every season, as certain as the pain of hunger in her abdomen as if her stomach has grown teeth and tried to eat itself, as certain as the emptiness left behind by a family that never existed.

Of course she knows this. She, more than anyone I have ever known, understands this. She, bored with the indifference and ignorance of the world, knows nothing more than hope; a hope I never want to understand. A hope I do not long to need so desperately.

To me, her gaze seems permanent and maybe it is. A gaze unfettered by neither anything on this Earth nor in its heavens. A gaze to forever remind me that things will never change.

I am not presumptuous nor am I disillusioned. I am simply a butterfly - changing once, but never again. 

Lago Coatepeque

Cheeseburgers, the sound of pattering rain dancing on my windowsill, the aroma of freshly baked bread that envelops you upon entering a bakery, and the pleasure that courses throughout your exhausted body in the morning when you awake before your alarm sounds only to find you still have another 1 hour of sleep ahead of you – these are the sorts of things that I truly love.

Snakes are not anywhere near the top of that list and would rather fall somewhere far down on that list in between 5 mile runs and watching the WNBA. So, when I ventured to Lake Coatepeque to enjoy some sunshine, I was a little hesitant upon discovering that “Coatepeque” means “snake hill” in Nahuatl. “Then again,” I asked myself, “what’s in a name?”

Lake Coatepeque lies only a quick 1.5 hour drive due west from San Salvador in the department of Santa Ana. A rather flat and uneventful drive, but with a few snacks and a blaring iPod on your side, a drive worth making to reach this treasure.

At first I love every bit of scenery around me. My synapses fire millions by the second, but still quite not quickly enough to keep up with the visual stimuli all around me.  As we make our descent into the caldera (the lake was formed by volcanic eruptions up to 72,000 years ago) I am charmed by roadside restaurants offering picturesque views of the lake, but not nearly enough to patronize them. I’m far too excited to get up close and personal with this gem and dip my big toe into her placid waters.

Lake Coatapeque

Upon descent my mood quickly sours, like a mid-summer’s storm wreaking havoc on a sunny day without any warning. My disposition becomes a swath of gray storm clouds as I reach ground level from the hills above, only to discover that the genius planning around the lake has been done in a fashion best described as "Late 19^th Century Boomer/Sooner." For 15 minutes we slowly drive around the lake and I am given a view of nothing more than walls and gates of private residences and condos, separated only by the occasional store or hotel peppered in between them. So, this beautiful land around this amazing lake has all been grabbed up and passed on from progeny leaving the rest of the population locked out? The social benefits of the many sacrificed for the comfort of the few as I am left with no public access to this national treasure? My own, personal Trail of Tears continues until we spot a small oasis among the private access drives.

A small restaurant offers a parking space and a dock that leads right out into the lake, complete with a lifeguard to keep watch should you choose to test the waters. Not exactly the public access lakeside complete with picnic tables and empty space to drown myself in, but the waiters and cold beers will see to it that I leave this place never imagining visiting the lake any other way.

A few cold drinks, a fresh plate of grilled meats to snack on, and enough sunshine to give me a pinkish hue and we decide it’s time to move on to the surrounding hills of Lake Coatepeque.

This drive is far more splendid as the winding roads lead you further above the lake into the hills, allowing you to see the stunning blue waters of the lake slowly reduced to the size of a pond that, from this perspective, you could cup into the palms of your hands.

From above

Reaching the top of Cerro Verde at 2,030 meters above sea level offers nice views in the late afternoon, but none of which compare to the picture-perfect views of Izalco Volcano in the setting July sun. Izalco spanned nearly 200 years of mild activity, creating an amazing site of natural beauty to see as it lightly erupted lava like clockwork. As such, a hotel was constructed on Cerro Verde overlooking Izalco in the 1950s to lure guests and promote tourism in the area. However, a bad stroke of luck, or perhaps a knee-slapper for the gods, Izalco became quiescent shortly before the hotel’s completion and has been dormant ever since; a fate similarly met by the hotel.

Ruins of the Hotel de Montaña - Cerro Verde

Izalco Volcano (Foreground: Kisses from Cerro Verde)

The hotel construction was completed, but business was essentially done before it even started. Without the draw of the active Izalco Volcano, the hotel was abandoned. The remains of a once promising hotel can be visited, but appear more like discarded ancient ruins than a 4-star hotel of the mid-20^th Century. As the stunning view of the volcano remains, a sight unlikely to change for thousands of years, it perplexes me that the hotel was scratched completely. Myself as evidence, people still visit this spot for the amazing view, so why not maintain a restaurant/bar for the visitors (which, by the way, were plenty)? My only other option for a drink or something to eat at that altitude was an old lady selling baked goods and bottled water near the park bathrooms. 

Izalco Volcano

Endless Skies: View from Cerro Verde

Should you find yourself exploring the tiny country of El Salvador and needing an escape from the hustle & bustle of the capital city – which you will – I highly recommend the jaunt out to Coatepeque. And hey, there aren’t any snakes to be scared of.