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Amelia Rayno: wayword

not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves – Henry Thoreau

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About Me:

I’m a former newspaper reporter who left my safety net to travel the world as full-time nomad and freelancer. Read more about me, and about my journey here.

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ameliarayno

Former Star Trib journo
I write stories & make videos 📝🎥
Part-time Bigfoot hunter
📍San Salvador
⬇️ Find out what “off the beaten path” is really like

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The national cemetery in El Salvador is stunning. Huge mausoleums for past presidents and other elites, smaller graves for “the people,” and then the grave “apartments.” On a hill, at golden hour, it’s glorious.
@a.criss.criss
@luis_mendez_82

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Santa Tecla in the evening fog. One of the things that always makes me smile in Latin America is all the color.

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On top of the world, at Los Chorros last week.

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34. Here’s to another trip around the sun — I’m pumped. Every one has been better than the last. Thanks to everyone who sent birthday drinks and well wishes!! 🎉🎉

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Birthdays foods so far: berry-yogurt torte and cappuccino from @andianbistro, ceviche from... some lil place in Santa Tecla, wine at @delikatbistro, sandwiches with a bottle of wine from, where else, @camperosv, a mezcal cocktail from @nomada.bar and spring rolls and pho from Minh’s.

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Yesterday, in paradise. *********************************************************
My birthday is Saturday and I am taking a few days to really treat myself to some of my favorite things in and around San Salvador. First up, yesterday, was a trip just outside of Santa Tecla to Los Chorros — my happy place. 🥰🥰 **********************************************************
Visitors can swim in these crystal clear natural pools and bathe under the fountains. The water is so clean you can actually drink it straight from the rocks! There are also stands where you can order food and beers or bring your own — we ate ceviche and sipped Pilseners all day. **********************************************************
Who else is happiest when in the water and the sun??

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When school lets out, La Palma, El Salvador

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Suddenly, Maria nearly collapsed. Stoically relating facts and details just seconds before, it was as though I had pierced through a shield and reached her skin. Her voice dropped out. Her face twisted in pain. She was crying. No — she was grieving, she was bleeding, through her eyes.

In that moment, I tell you, you do not know what to do, you will never know what to do. Nothing in journalism school, nor in practice, prepares you for responding to the resurgent memories of the mass, organized death of everyone a person knew.

I stared at my shoes, eyes dripping. Unsure of any appropriate way to convey my shared humanity, I grasped her hand, wanting to hug her, wanting to run, wanting to hold some of that heaviness for one minute, so she could breathe, and knowing no one ever could.

It occurred to me that she had been sitting there, on a plastic chair beside the square, waiting for strangers such as us, waiting for the next passing faces to whom she would recount the agony of her lifetime. What strength that took.

It was her job. A job she had volunteered for. She had a script. She had practiced, for more than a dozen years, strategies in which to pull her organs out of her body and continue to stand — and suddenly, she was gutted. “I can’t,” she choked, in Spanish. “I can’t talk about it.” Read my full column on the behind-the-scenes of a recent reporting trip to El Mozote, the site of a horrendous massacre conducted by U.S.-sponsored Salvadoran troops — link in bio.

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Home
words
- Countries
  - U.S.
  - Canada
  - Mexico
  - Guatemala
  - Belize
  - Honduras
  - El Salvador
- Solo travel thoughts
- Also published
Live Inspired
- about Live Inspired
- all posts
Videos
Support
Shop
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Contact

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