THE CAMINO IN SHORT
St James Way, (or The Camino de Santiago, Le Chemin de St Jaques) is a pilgrimage known by many names within many countries. History tells us that the pilgrimage tradition started over a thousand years ago when the supposed remains of Saint James were discovered (circa 8th century). People have been making the pilgrimage since ancient times to earn a plenary indulgence, forgiveness of sins. The number of pilgrims over time has varied greatly due to wars, poverty and disease, which leads to fewer pilgrims and Holy Years which occur whenever July 25 falls on a Sunday, such as 2010, drawing far more pilgrims.
In modern times people do the pilgrimage for any number of reasons: endurance, time for meditation and prayer, tourism, etc. The Way can be done on foot, bicycle or even on horse. There are pilgrimage routes all across Europe though some are for better up kept than others. Along “the Way” or what I will be referring to as The Camino, you always meet someone who has walked a little further. I met one man who had walked from Belgium!
MY CAMINO
DAY 0, Ponferrada 204k from Santiago - Over the past nine months the Camino de Santiago had been calling to me. I felt haunted by it, seeing the signs everywhere, yearning to follow. I began to envy pilgrims who walked by, shells hanging from their packs, walking stick in hand. That’s when I knew my turn would soon come. The last time I had felt a pull this strong it led me to Africa and two indescribable years.
The thought of the way ahead of me made me tingle with excitement. When friends shared their experiences “in” the Camino I longed to have that look in their eyes; to comprehend the feelings behind it. It took me back to my first encounter with an RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). It’s the intense sparkle of rich memories that the eyes express but which cannot be put into words. When I saw that familiar twinkle my heart was set.
The panic didn’t kick in until the morning before I set out. I took a moment to breathe and the doubt sunk in. “Am I crazy?” “Can I really push myself that hard?” “Maybe I should stay settled in my comfort.” Although my mind raced with doubts my heart remained firmly set, my backpack was ready and in the end a heart must be followed lest we forget how to hear its desires. Thus I was off to the unknown once more.
I arrived at the albergue, a youth hostel with hundreds of beds that are very cheap, not at all private and solely for the use of pilgrims. They handed me my pilgrim passport and it became official. No longer was I my former self. I was now a pilgrim.
DAY 1, Pereje 175k to go – As the sun peaked over the mountains I put on my backpack and stepped into the Camino. Trying hard to cast the doubts from my mind I began to walk.
A friend once told me that the Camino is like life. At the time I had not understood but a few hours into the Camino it all became so clear. On the Camino, as in life, you must learn to follow the signs. As a novice I lost my way many times but fellow pilgrims always arrived to show me the way. There are signs everywhere when you know how to look for them. In times when you feel like you need a sign there may not always be one, you just need to follow your heart and keep moving forward. In the Camino the signs ranged from cement signs, shells, yellow arrows, to rocks.
Throughout the day my pace varied as my shoulders began to groan and my feet to ache. The aches though painful cannot be discounted. In life our spirits get bruised, hearts broken, as our feet in the Camino and we must learn to move through the pain, to keep walking. And so I did. The Camino carried me through charming towns, fields of vineyards, and shady forests. Much of the morning I spent on my own. People would pass by and I soaked in the conversation, but before long our rhythms would carry one on and I would be alone again.
The first time I found myself truly alone, just me and my footsteps with the wind in the trees, I was anxious, nervous. We are so often distracted from ourselves. There is always something, tv, music , or the average hustle and bustle of daily life to draw our thoughts outward. As the world around me silenced I realized how much there was for me to digest: my time in Spain, in Benin, loves lost or unrequited, my future, my home, and my far-off family. In the absence of my ipod my mind was on shuffle, unsure where to settle.
As in life, so on the Camino. In some moments I yearned for a companion, yet others I craved my independence. People came and went; some stopping for a good talk, really making a connection, others just passing through.
Hours into my first day I was still in disbelief. Moment like these, when I do something crazy I have an out of body experience. I see myself from afar and think, “Damn that girls got balls.” Such a large part of me doubts my abilities, doubts my dreams. But inevitably the dreamer in me prevails, silencing those doubts temporarily. The dreamer believes I can walk 30k, that I can survive 2 years in Africa, that I can do it alone.
27 kilometers later, as Pereje appeared around the corner my heart lightened. Though my shoulders ached and my feet groaned my doubts melted away. Once again the dreamer in me had proved the doubter wrong.
DAY 2, O Cebreiro 152 K – My second morning started out much the same as the first. I was up before the sun, backpack on my shoulder once more and despite the aches from the day before it felt…good. This morning was different. This morning I knew I could do it.
I stepped into the brisk morning air as the sun rose over the mountains ahead of me. It was an uphill day. In true Spanish fashion I stopped for coffee a few K into the walk to thaw my hands. It was just me and another woman in the café.
“Que approveche” (enjoy you food) I said. “Ciao” She replied.
“Are you walking?” I tried next. “Bien”
We fell into silence after out failure to settle on a common language. “Francais?” she ventured. “Oui!” And so goes the average Camino conversation. Needless to say I was in Heaven. My first night in the albergue I found myself surrounded by languages, my brain was on overload. When I tried to speak I was mixing languages so badly that no one knew what nationality to peg me with.
One you enter the Camino you join a new community. A community in which nationality becomes a mere curiosity. The question, “where do you come from?” elicits the response of where you began walking the Camino. And why not, “where are you from” is a difficult question. Well it all started in Texas, but much of my life has been spent in Colorado, yet I most recently I called Spain my home. Take your pick. I feel like I come from nowhere in particular and yet everywhere all at once.
On the path today I left Castilla y Leon, the region which I have called home for the past 9 months, and entered into the beautiful mountainous region of Galicia. As the path wound up into the mountains the villages became smaller and smaller, some as small as population 5. Once again I walked alone, passing hours without seeing another soul. My body no longer hurt. The breathtaking mountains and valleys that filled my vision energized me and lightened the burden.
DAY 3, Sarria 110k – At the end of day 3 my feet have never hurt so badly. I lost the ability to walk normally but it was worth it. The morning started like every other, up with the sun. As I stepped out on to the path the sun peaked over the peaks below me. O Cebriero, where I had slept for the night, sits atop a mountain. That morning I felt like I was on Mt Olympus. Clouds had settled in among the mountains, so only the peaks were visible, like islands in a lake of clouds. The sun had only begun to peak above the peaks casting light pink and orange hues on the clouds below.
I enjoyed quality conversations, always learning from fellow pilgrims but like the day before I was mostly alone on my Camino. My rhythm was just not syncing with the rhythm of fellow walkers. Though my heart craved company at some points, I needed the alone time, the time with my thoughts. Just my shadow and me as the path wound up and down the mountains. Sometimes it was so narrow that only one person could fit as vines hung into the path creating walls of green on each side.
20 kilometers in my feet were not ready to stop, they dragged me on. The path led me to a highway. A lack of signs and pilgrims cast doubt into my heart. But the only thing to do was move forward. So as doubt darkened my thoughts and dragged me down I kept putting one foot in front of the other.
Once more I saw the familiar shell and turned to follow. I was relieved as I wound off the road and back to the familiar dirt paths that carried me through quiet villages that contained their history and charm in their stones as rivers wound through. The scenery was breathtaking, the world was so green, so tranquil, and I felt like it was there just for me.
The ache in my feet began to creep up my legs. With each step I was unsure that my legs would take the next step. I had hoped to go further today, but with the aches in my body I did not know if I could. I wanted a sign, a bright yellow arrow like the Camino. I rounded a corner and saw a most beautiful sight, the sign for Samos and two fellow pilgrims. I liked them immediately. “Were going to Sarria, you’re welcome to join us.” There was my sign.
As we stopped for coffee and chatted I felt that deep connection. That pull that makes me feel like I was meant to meet these people. They were fellow ponderers. I told them that I felt like the Camino was life and they said I was ahead of the game. They had been walking for over a month and it had taken weeks to catch on.
They shared their knowledge taught by the Camino. Nothing happens on accident. Nothing is ever lost on the Camino. The Camino always provides what you need. I wish I had begun long ago, one week suddenly felt insufficient to soak in the lessons of the Camino. I looked back over the day with a new outlook. Nothing happens by accident. I had spent most of the last few days alone, which was no accident. I had learned to trust myself, follow my heart and my instincts and I had come out just fine.
Next I discovered how hard I can push myself as I walked another 12 k, after having walked 30. Luckily the company was good, they kept me moving forward as my legs, feet and ankles begged to stop.
I began to hum a song that brought me comfort on my journeys. A song that soothes my soul and calms my fears. They soon began to hum along. We stopped in the shade of a tree, alone with a valley below. I played the song on my phone and we sat to take in the moment as a hawk circled in the distance. “Wind in my hair I feel part of everywhere. Underneath my being is a road that’s disappeared.” We were deep in the Spanish countryside, all alone, with just the Eddie Vedder singing to our souls. During our walk we discussed the reactions of those back home as we had set out on the Camino. How everyone wished they could do the same. But it’s so hard to see what you have. This life that has drawn us from our homes is lonely at times, and can be uncomfortable as we have to struggle through times without our loved ones close by us. It’s a choice we all make, comfort or the unknown. Though the three of us had come here on different paths we all felt the same things. Though my ankle screamed as our walked carried on. I felt…comforted.
Day 4, Portomarin 86 k to go –I had enjoyed the night with new friends, the “family” that had invited me into their circle. But as the sun peaked over the horizon I just couldn’t wait around for them to awaken. Thus I found myself once more on my own in the fresh air of the early morning. I was slowed down by my right ankle which had swollen and made it quite painful to walk. So I took my time in the morning, hoping that my friends would catch up, but unconcerned. If I was meant to see them again I would.
I stopped to rest my aching ankle and a Belgian man came to my aid. He rubbed some pain relief lotion on it and sat with me as I kept it elevated. He had been walking for over 2000k, all the way from Belgium and was full of Camino wisdom.
I had been kicking myself all morning for not just waiting for my new friends. Once again I was all alone. The Belgian told me that the Camino was not meant to be walked with others. It’s a solo experience, time to connect with yourself. You should walk at your own pace, no one else’s. And the message hit home. He told me that he sits when he sees beauty, stops to ponder the wonders of nature. “Look” he said as he pointed to a rock wall. “Why are all the flowers growing here, in this spot, when they could grow anywhere?” He also told me that when you go on the Camino you need 2 bags. One with which to give and one with which to receive. And why do you need to take anything from others? So that they can give.
Soon our rhythms changed and he was off ahead. But his lessons stayed with me. I needed to learn to walk alone. Though I have proved many times that I can go off alone, I needed to learn to accept it, to cherish it. I walked on feeling the loneliness weighing heavy. My ankle was hurting and I had no distractions. I just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And that’s life isn’t it? When it hurts you just keep moving, you move through the pain, past the pain.
But life can be ironic. Just when I felt most alone I looked behind me. I was not sure how I had managed to be alone with the huge flood of tourists that began at the last town. But behind me I saw my companion. A little dog had come, seemingly out of nowhere, and he walked alongside me for a while. I understood the message. I might not have the companionship that I so often crave, but that doesn’t mean that I am alone.
I arrived exhausted and limping in Portomarrin. It was filled with albergues and I had no idea where my friends would go. So I just chose one and walked in. There was a familiar face that lit up as I walked in. It was so nice to be greeted as if they had been waiting for me all day. I was home, back with my family.
Day 6, Palais de Rei 61k - I awoke to that familiar itch that pulls me forward. I laid in bed, with my friends still dosing around me. I silently crept out of bed, packed my things, and set off on my own. As the cold morning air blew gently in my hair I thought back over the past few days. Mornings spent walking through the Spanish countryside, afternoons on lonely mountains sides doing yoga in abandoned fields. I felt an inner peace had grown within me. I limped along slower than ever thinking of how nice it was to have been accepted into his group. So why did I run?
My rhythm soon carried me alongside a guy from Germany. He was eager for a walking companion and we walked together for 25 k. I was nice to have someone to chat with over coffee. It felt like a nice change to walk with someone though I missed getting lost in my thoughts. I was within the last 100k, which is when most people begin their walk. The path was more crowded. It no longer felt like my own.
I watched the flow of people around us. There were old as well as young, people from all walks of life (pun intended). As they walk by everyone wishes you a “Buen Camino” a good walk. I noticed an astonishing lack of judgments instead a general understanding, support. It was beautiful.
As the path joined the road I realized how cut off you become from society. Not cut off in the sense that you leave it completely, instead you enter into a parallel society. The villages we pass through and the cafes where we rest all exist for the pilgrims. We constantly meet people that are standing still but we keep moving. As we move we lose each other and find each other again.
It happened once on the steps of the Sacre Coeur in Paris, again as I biked through the bus in Benin, and once more as I walked the Camino. That sense of love that I have when I discover that I am exactly who I want to be. As I closed my eyes to sleep in Ponferrada before the journey had begun I didn’t believe that I was the type of person who would walk a pilgrimage. Five days later, having met so many kindred spirits and saying the words, “I know exactly what you mean!” on so many occasions I found myself saying “I’m exactly the kind of person that would pack up and walk across Spain”. And I thought about what a difference it was to say that. Once the doubt is wiped away, like cleaning off the grim from a car, the true beauty shines through, and I finally see myself for who I am. And I love what I see.
The arrival to Santiago to come soon... While you wait MORE PICTURES!!
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