I've never said that before, but I could get used to it.
Cicely booked us a little cottage on the shore of the breathtaking Lago de Coatepeque. It's her go-to place to bring visiting friends and family, and she's not alone. The lake also forms the backdrop of the El Salvadoran Camp David, and the country's president has a retreat just down the shore from where we were staying.
It's hard to impress this kid.
That's not true. A box of raisins and Sophie the Giraffe is really all it takes to make everyone forget that we will be waking up at least three times tonight to change a diaper, add another roll to the growing stack on Quinn's thighs, or simply babble to Strawberry Shortcake how much fun we're having in El Salvador.
Worth it.
As you may have noticed, Aimee and I have become big fans of the full-body toddler bathing suit. There's really nothing that can sour the start of a beach day, but chasing around a toddler to rub in the zinc-infused warpaint all over her face isn't exactly relaxing. The alternative:
Too much, this kid.
But back to the lake. It formed in the center of a long-since collapsed volcano over 50,000 years ago, and has become a beautiful preserve that I'm sure has unique biological and historical significance. In the years before we had children, I would have looked it up and told you all about it. In the post kid years, I mostly spend my days playing defense against some of the most dangerously irresistible toddler attractions imaginable.
Rickety pier with woefully inadequate guard rails? Where can these kids sign up?
Charming little play house with rotting wood, missing planks, and exposed nails? Just try to hold them back!
The rest of the afternoon was spent just as it should have been, with giggling kids, full bellies, and even a decent toddler nap in one of the back bedrooms. It was as delightful as it sounds.
Our drive back gradually transitioned from serene countryside to bustling city, and before we knew it, we were back in the thick of San Salvador. We passed a few trucks broken down on the side of the road, which brought to mind something I think about a lot while traveling in Latin America: the effect of government stability and regulation on society.
I know, I know. We were just having a nice afternoon at the beach, and I had to bring up politics. But it's hard to escape out here. Many Central American countries have frequent government turnover and wild political swings. The civil bureaucracy that we love to hate in American civil life doesn't really exist out here. So when a new leader comes in, all of his or her (usually his) friends get placed at the top of government agencies, and any projects that were in development get scrapped and started again. So even through our civil bureaucracy is sometimes maddeningly slow to change, that's mostly for a reason. It allows for momentum to carry big projects forward like city parks, freeways, and (most evident on our drive home) automobile and freight truck safety regulations. So despite the chest pain I develop while waiting in line at the county development office for a $10 sign permit, it does give us one more layer of protection from the chaos often seen while traveling abroad.
El Salvador is a prime example of government turnover. A young, relatively long shot presidential candidate (Nayib Bukele, the mayor of San Salvador) recently had a surprise and decisive win in the national election. He ran as an anti-corruption moderate, defeating a candidate from the currently ruling Farabundo Martí National Liberation Front.
Bukele himself used to be a member of the left-leaning party until he was kicked out under murky circumstances. The subtext is that he got chased out after a bit too much muckraking trying to bring some sunlight to El Salvador's political machinations. Bukele is the son of a Muslim father and Christian mother, considers himself a Roman Catholic, and married the descendant of a Sephardic Jew. He is nothing if not interesting, and I am curious about what changes he will bring to El Salvador and Central America.
As is the United States Embassy.
As you can imagine, the transition of power (and the political and diplomatic uncertainty it brings) is a major focus of Cicely and her colleagues at the embassy. In fact, we had to change the date of our trip to avoid visiting during the election. The US Embassy had all hands on deck that week, and there was a decent chance that Cicely would be assigned as a poll watcher to verify free and fair elections. Other staff members were assigned to feeling out Bukele's political leanings, and how they might impact El Salvador-US relations. Bukele is the first president of El Salvador to not come from one of the major two political parties following the civil war of the 1980s and early 1990s, and there is a lot of uncertainty with how he will lead the country.
Enter USAID.
There are many reasons that the United States provides foreign aid, but the largest (and least appreciated domestically) is to protect our interests. International stability, decreased infectious disease transmission, and fewer episodes of civil unrest very directly impact our quality of life back at home. USAID and the other front line agencies that provide foreign aid abroad keep a very keen eye on the political pulse of the countries that they are operating on. Say, for instance, that the banana farmers of a particular country strongly support their country’s moderate president who has close ties to the US. They know that the US is a major importer of bananas, and they want to keep relations stable between the two countries. But the soybean farmers want to use more land for soybeans, form closer political relations with China, and start displacing US soybean sales to China with exports from their own country. Which crop do you think is going to suddenly get agricultural experts and farming equipment provided to them compliments of the US Government?
Cicely and her colleagues at USAID are constantly playing a game of three dimensional chess and looking at the myriad ways foreign development affects international relations and US interests abroad. For better or worse, this is not simply a group of people singing kumbaya and writing blank checks. There is a reason that, despite the political rhetoric, when push comes to shove, both US political parties strongly support focused international aid. Most of the people at the top know that, quite simply, it works. It’s one of the most cost-effective (less than 1% of the federal budget) ways to achieve US policy goals abroad, and has a direct effect on our well-being at home.
Our dinner conversation that night drifted from the goals of foreign aid to the fact that we were eating pretty amazing Indian food delivered straight to our house by Uber Eats. In El Salvador. Despite the political upheaval, drug violence, and long-simmer after effects of civil war, Cicely and Donyel have the world’s food available to them three cell phone taps away. The contrast was both striking and delicious.
I’m (slowly) reading a book about the Cuban missile crisis these days, and the section I’m in right now is talking about how both the US and Soviet observers were shocked with how routinely the Cubans could go about their daily lives in the face of near-certain nuclear annihilation. As we ate our Uber Eats Indian food, I couldn’t help but draw a comparison to ever-turbulent El Salvador. I don’t know if I can generalize this phenomenon to all of humanity, but it does seem that the people in the most immediate danger seem to be the best at enjoying the world right in front of them. The lesson here? Get a second helping of Indian food.
