Duncan Excursion Fit for an Ambassador

"What's amazing to me is the potential that's here," he said. "This is a country that has suffered a civil war. The sense I got is they have turned a corner."

That's the message Salvadoran officials had hoped to convey, that El Salvador is recovering from its bitter 12-year civil war and is ready to become a tourist destination, a business partner.

"They have always said that in El Salvador there aren't opportunities," said Leon during a tour of a tuna packaging plant just opened in eastern El Salvador. "We are trying to show that there are people who are investing in El Salvador."

Salvadorans in Montgomery said Duncan did not get a full picture of their homeland. "It's really important that he goes to see the tourist areas in El Salvador and the few development projects the government has built, but in reality the living conditions of Salvadorans are deteriorating," said Freddy Tejada, an Aspen Hill resident who represents the opposition left-wing Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front party. "Why are people constantly coming to this country to look for better opportunities?"

Indeed, Duncan had little chance to meet with poor Salvadorans. While touring a La Union construction site, he extended his hand to Jose Angel Ban, who will receive $96 for 14 days of work.

"Good to see you now," he said, as Jose Barahona, a Salvadoran businessman who owns the Washington area franchise for the restaurant chain Pollo Campero, translated.

Ban, wearing dirty jeans and a sweat-drenched shirt, asked Duncan where he was from.

"Maryland," Duncan responded.

"Of the United States?" Ban asked. Yes, Duncan told him.

"He seems like a good guy," Ban said to a reporter after Duncan left. "Is he an ambassador?"

At times, it seemed that way. The county executive had police escorts everywhere he went. Local newspaper reporters and TV stations covered his meetings. He was shuttled from the capital to La Union and Usulutan by military helicopter, bypassing the shanty-covered rural roads that led there.

Friday night, Duncan's helicopter landed on a military school soccer field in the capital, which only the president and vice president are allowed to do ordinarily, Leon said. Saturday night, he attended Mass at the National Cathedral, armed guards stationed at each exit, then saw the tomb of slain Archbishop Oscar Romero past visiting hours.

Earlier that day, Duncan was jetting through the Bay of Jiquilisco's mangrove trees and blue waters on a motorboat as the nation's tourism minister, Ruben Rochi, pointed out undeveloped land.

"Wouldn't it be great to put a Marriott here?" Rochi asked as they cruised the water, with the Salvadoran ambassador riding a jet ski nearby. The boat ride ended on the other side of the bay, where Barahona hosted an elaborate picnic on his beachfront property.

When it was time to go, Duncan walked over to thank the cooks and sharecroppers there, shaking hands and squeezing a baby girl's cheek. Then the helicopter swooped down on Barahona's front lawn and took Duncan back to San Salvador.