October | 2012 | quizas que si

Dozens of masked Salvadorenian men run down the street towards us. The smell of gas and burning lingers in the air. A guy stumbles into me and I fall. The heat from his body is overwhelming. I panic when I realise his head is on fire, and my plastic rain poncho starts to singe. The paramedics take him away.

An hour later, shit gets real. Flaming balls of fire are haphazardly thrown into the crowd taking out whoever is in their way. A tree full of children catches on fire. After a few close calls I cop a rebound on the leg, but come out on top.

We are at the annual Nejapa bolas de fuego festival.

Earlier, when we asked our guide how many people die from the annual event, he changed the subject. I can now see why. The festival started more than 100 years ago and replicates the Volcano El Playon eruption, but it looked more like a riot to me!

Photo credits to Aidan; http://seasnsky.tumblr.com/

San Cristobal volcano erupted early september. To celebrate, Aidan and I decide to climb the closest volcano to it… Telica. There we saw lava and San Cristobal up close, smoking peacefully.

San Cristobal Erupting 8th September (obviously not my photo)

The hike up to telika 9th September

At the top…

San Critobal Smoking peacefully

Elsy and Elena (far right) who inspired me to sell the bracelets

I have been huddling under a tin shelter for the last half an hour waiting for some bus. The rain is pelting down so hard that water is up to my ankles and it is dark. I have no idea where I am in Honduras. A quick ask around tells me I am about an hour from the Nicaragua border, which is about where I want to be.

I am super scared, but trying to look normal. No one else here is white, rich, alone and lugging around all their possessions on their back. A couple of guys next to me start whispering and pointing at me. They try to hustle me into a taxi with them, but the surfboard is a good excuse to wait for the next bus. Nearly in panic, I hail down my own taxi and get taken to the nearest hotel. I hold my surfboard out the window with one arm and ask the driver not to drive too quick.

At the hotel I have some 2miniute noodles and barricade myself in. How did it all go so wrong? I look down at the anklet I have been working on all day and am more disappointed. It resembles little more than a long piece of colourful string. How will I ever sell this crap?? It doesn’t look anything like what I leanrt to do in Guatemala. I pray to the universe for a better day tomorrow, watch a Mexican soap opera and go to sleep.

Kids at el paredon selling their bracelets

In the morning I sit at the bus station braiding anklets again. Two ladies come over and tell me I am doing it all wrong. I need to double the string they say. Doubtful, but feeling pressured under their eyes, I double the string and start again. By the time we reach the border I have finished one bracelet. It looks good. I gift it to the lady who helped me, and she tells me she will treasure it forever. She also gives me her phone number in case I ever return.

On the other side of the border I have a three hour bus wait. With new enthusiasm, I braid bracelets. They look good. In no time, I have a crowd of locals gathered around me staring with questions. They all want a bracelet. One guy takes off his shirt to protect my legs from the hot sweltering sun. He gets one. I am selling the bracelets faster than I can make them! By the end of the three hours, I have sold enough bracelets for a decent lunch and some.

I spent some time volunteering at a kids club in a small fishing village in Northern Nicaragua. The surf was only good in the morning, so I had lots of spare time. I bought more string in Leon, but also started to make bracelets out of shells and more importantly plastic bags; two free resources that are abundant all over the beach. I tried to inspire the kids there to do the same. They love making bracelets, but picking up their own trash is a little bit harder for them.