I was sitting in a mall in San Salvador the other day, the kind of place where the air is thick with the smell of sweet corn and strong coffee. As I watched the traffic hum by outside, I couldn’t help but notice the contrast in the conversations around me. At one table, a group of expats, mostly Canadians and Americans, were excitedly talking about their new lives here, praising the safety and the “Bitcoin revolution”. But at another table, a young Salvadoran couple was looking at a set of papers with a mix of anxiety and determination. They weren’t talking about staying; they were talking about an appointment at the embassy.

It’s a strange time to be in El Salvador. We are called “El Pulgarcito de América” (the Little Thumb of the Americas), and right now, that little thumb is making a lot of noise on the global stage. We’ve hit incredible milestones, like over a thousand days without murders. For the first time in my life, I can walk through neighborhoods at night or pull out my phone to take a picture without that cold knot of fear in my stomach.

Yet, despite this new era of security, the dream of “el Norte” (the North) hasn’t faded. If anything, it has just changed shape. From my experience as a language instructor, I talk to people every day who are caught between two worlds: the country they love that is finally becoming safe, and the future they need that still feels out of reach.

The Security Win vs. The Wallet Struggle

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: security. For decades, the reason people left was fear. You left because the gangs controlled your street, or because you didn’t know if the military patrol near your house would end in a confrontation. Today, that fear is largely gone. The state of emergency and the mass arrests have transformed the public perception of safety.

But here’s the practical reality I see every day: safety doesn’t pay the bills.

I recently looked at my own invoices, $39.99 for internet from Cable Color and about $16.80 for my Google Workspace. These might seem like small amounts to someone in Texas or Toronto, but in a country where the minimum wage struggles to keep up with the rising cost of living, these numbers add up fast.

I’ve noticed a “migration to public schools” happening right in front of us. Parents who used to scrape together $60 or $70 a month for private Catholic or Christian schools are moving their kids to public ones because they simply can’t afford the tuition anymore. Even with the government giving out laptops and tablets, the survival mindset is still very much alive. When you’re choosing between a “good” private education and putting food on the table, the choice is easy but painful.

The “Survival” vs. “Living” Mindset

I remember a conversation with one of my students. He has cousins in the United States who tell him how hard it is,  working two or three jobs just to stay afloat. It’s not the glamorous life you see in movies. And yet, when we discussed the idea of living abroad, the allure of “better opportunities” was still the main driver.

In El Salvador, we are in a transition phase. We are moving from “merely surviving” to “actually living,” but that mental shift is hard when the economic reality hasn’t caught up to the security reality. We see tourists and “crypto bros” buying up property and starting businesses, but for the local Salvadoran, the price of a pupusa or a gallon of milk is climbing.

There’s a growing disparity. We see a shiny new infrastructure and digital tools, but as I’ve seen in my classroom, a laptop is only as good as the electricity and the teacher behind it. Many people feel like the country is evolving, but they are being left behind in the old economy.

Common Misunderstandings About Why We Leave

I hear a lot of people from North America make assumptions about why Salvadorans still want to go to the US. Let’s clear up a few of those:

• Misunderstanding #1: “They leave because the country is still dangerous.”
  Actually, many feel safer here now than in some major US cities. The move isn’t about escaping violence anymore; it’s about escaping a financial ceiling. People feel they can “breathe” physically, but they are “suffocating” financially.
• Misunderstanding #2: “Bitcoin solved the economic problems.”
  While Bitcoin is legal tender and a huge draw for autonomy-seeking expats like “Sarah and Mark”, for the average person, it hasn’t replaced the need for a stable, high-paying job. It’s a tool for the future, but people need to eat today.
• Misunderstanding #3: “They don’t love their country.”
  This is the biggest mistake. Salvadorans are incredibly proud of our culture, our volcanoes, and our beaches. We have a concept called familismo, family comes first, always. Most people who leave do so because they love their family and want to send money back to build a house or pay for a relative’s surgery.

The “Marathon” of Change

From where I sit, at the teacher’s desk, I see that we are planting seeds. The educational reforms, the tech in schools, the focus on a “new mindset”, these are things that will show results in 20 or 50 years. But 20 years is a long time to wait when you have a 6-year-old son, like my friend, who needs special therapies and a stable future.

She moved to Panama because of her job and her son’s needs. Her story reminds me that migration isn’t always a straight line to the US; it’s a search for a place where the systems actually work for you.

In El Salvador, we still deal with red tape and infrastructure challenges. While an American entrepreneur might feel “free” here because they have less paperwork than in the States, a local might feel “trapped” because they can’t access the same level of capital or credit to start their own dream.

Real Life

I’ve noticed that when I talk to my students like Andrea or Joe, the conversation eventually turns to professional development and “time control”. People are realizing that freedom isn’t just about not being robbed; it’s about having the power to decide how you spend your day.

In the US, even with three jobs, there is a sense that if you work hard enough, you can eventually “get ahead”. In El Salvador, for a long time, the feeling was that no matter how hard you worked, the “system” or the “circumstances” would keep you down. We are trying to break that cycle, but it’s a slow process of societal education, teaching things as simple as not littering or as complex as financial literacy.

A Final Thought Over a Pupusa

So, why do we still want to leave?

It’s because hope is a double-edged sword. Now that we feel safe, we have the mental space to realize what else we are missing. We want the “First World” experience, the smooth sidewalks, the reliable healthcare, and the salaries that allow us to do more than just pay for the next internet bill.

El Salvador is a beautiful, resilient, and utterly charming place. I love my country, and I’m excited to see it transform. But I also understand why my friends pack their bags. They aren’t running away from El Salvador; they are running toward a version of their life they can’t quite build here yet.

If you’re reading this from abroad, I hope you see us not as a news headline or a “crypto experiment,” but as people trying to transition from survival to sovereignty. We are a nation in a marathon, and sometimes, the road just looks a little smoother on the other side of the border. But for those of us who stay, and those who come back, we keep mixing the cement and laying the bricks, one “maje” and one pupusa at a time.