It started with a surf. The building swell crept up slowly at 6:30 a.m., and by time Kris Hall and I got in the water (Taylor and Jose still captive of their beds), the rights of Sunzal were well overhead. The glass of morning quickly turned to a slight chop, and the growing lines started sweeping over and breaking out farther, a few sets nearly getting the better of me and my big blue board. Nodding at many familiar faces from the afternoon sesh yesterday and after having to swim all the way to shore for my leashless board, we sailed in on our last one (mainly to not miss out on the free breakfast that came with our room).
But today wasn’t about the surf. At about 1 p.m. after a few snacks sized tacos and a bucket of Coronas with Jose’s friends, Thomas and big wave Aussie charger Ben, the trio of fair skinned and fair-haired loggers loaded in the back of a pickup truck to experience El Salvador from a different perspective, spending two hours taking in the countryside in streaming winds and beating sun, destined for Jose Barahona’s home on the lake. The ride probably looked scarier than it was (a little liquid courage certainly calming the occasional bump in the road). Going about 90kph and trusting Jose’s driving skills, I closed my eyes for what felt like a minute and when I woke, we were nearly there.
Pulling up to the shimmering lake with Guatemala across the blue horizon, we clambered out of the back and joined Barahona for a margarita on the rooftop of his adjacent hotel, where being a friend of “the King of the town” we were treated close to royalty. Before we knew it we were wet with lake water, on a boat headed across the lake for Guatemala with our captain — and a few apprehensive 9 year olds — Juan Carlos, Alex, and Eduardo. Jokingly, when we neared the border, Jose had the white Americans jump in the lake and swim across “illegally.” Coming out of the swampy lake water, we emerged in another country, Barahona leading the short walk to the nearby water park and bar. After a few minutes of the soccer game, some Coronas, holding hands with Guatemalan monkeys, and playing games with the little Salvo boys who were finally warming up to us, we headed back across the lake to get dinner at the famous matron of the Barahona family’s house: Mama Milla.
It was dark and dusty and after the 25 minute rollercoaster of a bumpy dirt road, we pulled up to the silhouette of a simple brick house stuck in the middle of rolling black hills, the lights illuminating from it the only ones to be seen for miles. Hall, the Stones and I stepped up on the large outdoor patio to be greeted by Oscar Barahona, Jose’s brother and master sander of Barahona Bros shaping on Cypress St, a plethora of other Barahona’s, and in the corner, sitting on a plastic chair, Mama Milla rose out of the dust. At 84, the spunky woman, with little help, cooked her famous recipe of panes con povo (organic free range turkey sandwiches mixed with a special sauce, beans, and other seasonings) for 15 on her wood fired stove. Between sopping up pieces of bread rolls with what I can only describe as gravy and large bites of food spilling out of our famished mouths, we listened to stories from Jose, Oscar, and his friends, Taylor and I occasionally stealing glimpses of Mama Milla, reveling in the strength of body and mind she clearly possessed. After full stomachs started making their way one by one down the steps and back to their homes, Jose and his mom showed us around the place he grew up, her speaking directly to us in her beautiful, sharp, confident Spanish, Jose translating.
The simple house had three unconnected rooms, the outdoor patio being the portal for entering another. The kitchen was primitive and perfect, already cleaned old pots and pans drying next to the comal (stone stove). Pictures of teen Jose hung on the wall, and as we said goodbye to Mama Milla and bounced back up the rocky road with Taylor laying across me, Hall, and Pegi in the back of the truck, we looked back at that house, speckled holes in the roof shining like small stars from the bright lights inside.
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