by Danielle Ciminero
The day started out like any other that week. Wake up at 4am, brew cowboy coffee, watch a bit of surfing, walk the rocky path to the highway in the dark, wait patiently for a colorfully painted school bus to hurtle around the corner and then jump out in front of it waving our surfboards to make sure it stops to pick us up. Meanwhile, hoping the bus driver doesn't notice our blond hair and try to run us over.
It was El Salvador after all, and rumor had it that Americans were still a sore sight.
Thankfully the first...Read more