They come in a small plastic bag and for one quetzal (about 13 cents) you can get five. These two women make them every day out of a small store front. They laugh and talk in this really strange dialect (one of the 26 of the mayan variety i have yet to learn) and I can never tell if they're laughing at me or simply having a good time. But i will say, they make the best version of these you could possible shove your face with. They slap the dough together until it's round and flat and then they flip it over this burner until it starts to brown. Their regular customers could form a line that stretches all the way down seis avenida norte.
They call then "pupusas" in el salvador, but it pretty much translates throughout central america as "tortilla," a product that can only be purchased in a vacuum-sealed bag back home.