Over the course of the weeks that we walked the Camino in 2013 I kept notes which I  “wrote” one finger stroke at a time on my tiny iPod-touch. Some notes were lengthy essays, some just short memos, and others merely providing links to photographs taken that day. I shared these missives with friends and relatives by email and on Facebook. Fortunately, I archived these notes. They have proven to be a trove of long forgotten information, valuable in the creation of these detailed posts. The preceding post and what follows below are two of these essays. They are presented verbatim in order to provide further insight into my thoughts and our experiences.  

“What is a Peregrino.” Written May 14, 2013 at Alto do Poio, Spain.

On the Camino, we are confronted each day with carved and painted images of St. James, the original Peregrino.

Even though these are often stylized portrayals, if he walked the Camino today there would be no mistake that he is a Pilgrim. Here is a quick summary of his “qualifications”:

1. Practical Shoes. St. James is usually shown wearing sturdy leather boots, shoes, or sandals. Modern Pilgrims are no different, if you discount the “Crocs” that are worn by some in the evening.
2. A wide brimmed hat. This important piece of equipment protects the head and eyes from the sun’s assault, the discomfort of rain, and also provides warmth in the morning and evening. Modern Peregrinos usually wear hats. Check!
3. A weatherproof cape. This simple ankle length woolen cloak sheds rain, is vented, and doubles as a sleeping blanket. Today, we separate these functions among a poncho, windbreaker, and sleeping bag. For those focused on an ultralight pack, St. James may have had the better idea.
4. A hiking stick. Modern Pilgrims seem equally divided in preference between going “stickless”, using St. James’ classic single walking stick, and employing twin trekking poles. St. James didn’t have the chance to evaluate the latter option.
5. A water vessel. If the images are to be believed, St. James carried a hollow gourd to transport his drinking water, a simple and eco-friendly solution. He might have smiled upon the modern Camelbak, but I think he would have been appalled by the throwaway plastic bottles that dot the Camino.

These are the essentials for a Peregrino, then and now. The modern Pilgrim may stress over packs, socks, GPS, cell phones and Wi-Fi, but St. James might have seen such items as more a distraction rather than an aid to his journey. I admit that on these matters I often fell to the temptations of the “just in case” dark side.

A few days ago I was presented with another view of who is a Peregrino. During evening Vespers at a monastery, a Monk delivered a brief, but powerful message. He cautioned us to be mindful that Christ walked the Camino. He added that Jesus was disguised as a Pilgrim, and that Our Lord was careful not to announce His identity. I accepted the Monk’s admonition as a homilist’s metaphor. However, the message has been working on me as I find myself thinking as I pass Pilgrims on the Camino, “What if she…, or he…?”

I find that his words have caused me to be a bit more sincere and thoughtful when I say “Buen Camino”, perhaps a little kinder, maybe a little less inclined to judge, exercising more patience.

That Monk and the “disguised Peregrino” that he dedicates his life to serve are indeed intriguing.

Peace Everyone. Have Fun, Do Good, and Be Safe! And of course, Buen Camino! Pete

 

Over the course of the weeks that we walked the Camino in 2013 I kept notes which I  “wrote” one finger stroke at a time on my tiny iPod-touch. Some notes were lengthy essays, some just short memos, and others merely providing links to photographs taken that day. I shared these missives with friends and relatives by email and on Facebook. Fortunately, I archived these notes. They have proven to be a trove of long forgotten information, valuable in the creation of these detailed posts. What follows below and in the next post are two of these essays. They are presented verbatim in order to provide further insight into my thoughts and our experiences.  

“What is a Camino.” Written May 13, 2013 at Vega de Calcarce, Spain.

We have encountered some “interesting” notions of what constitutes a Camino, both from people on and off “The Way”. Officially, to earn a Compostela in Santiago, one must have walked or ridden by horseback the last 100km (60 miles) or bicycled the last 200km as a continuous journey. Those are the “rules”, plain and simple.

Nevertheless, we have encountered some “unofficial” takes on what constitutes a Camino. There was a young lady who zipped past me, hellbent on covering over 800km to Santiago in 20 days. In her mind there were grades of Pilgrims and Caminos, based upon speed. She even had a book, “Hiking the Camino in 20 Days”, and she was aiming to be among the fastest.

There was a couple that we encountered who had determined that “Real Pilgrims” carried their packs each and every step of The Way. (Note: There are services that transport your pack from place to place for from 5 to 7 euros a day). Their definition changed when one of them found it physically necessary to use the service.

Another pilgrim declared the journey must be 800km, and “unbroken”, even though it is common for Pilgrims to complete a Camino in increments over a series of years. That Peregrino also changed his view of a Camino when injury forced a hiatus.

Finally, there are those who decry the use of any alternative transportation in the course of the journey. I wondered if this disqualifies the use of elevators.

For most who are on the Camino, or who have completed a Camino, the understanding is that each Peregrino’s Camino is their own. Those who spend time and energy evaluating the journeys of other Pilgrims, miss the opportunity to appreciate their own journey.

The “original Peregrino” was St. James the Apostle, for whom Santiago is named, and in whose footsteps we follow. He traveled The Way to spread The Word. Is it possible that he spent an extra day here and there to deliver his message? Or that he accepted the occasional offer of a ride in an oxcart from a kind farmer or merchant?

We have had the good fortune to become friends with a fellow Pilgrim who is so comfortable with her Camino that it means more to her to enjoy the gifts of friendship along The Way than to focus upon reaching Santiago de Compostela and “earning a piece of paper”. Those are her words.

In life, as on the Camino, wouldn’t it be a blessing if each person focused on achieving their own best Journey, rather than policing and critiquing the Journeys of others?

Peace Everyone. Have Fun, Do Good, and Be Safe! And of course, Buen Camino! Pete

 

 

May 9, 2013. Astorga to Rabanal.

Our hopes were high that with our departure from Astorga we were also leaving behind the drama of the past two days.

The steel gray sky released a near constant drizzle that kept the puddles filled and shoes laminated with mud. At times the humidity was such that if felt like the mist formed under rather than over our rain gear.

In spite of these morning conditions the fact that we shared the path with like-minded souls made for a spirit of camaraderie more than equal to the elements.

Rabanal was 22km ahead, but more importantly we were now only 264km and 13 days from Santiago. Whether measured in days or in miles we were approximately two-thirds of the way to our final destination. This was not the home stretch, but I could sense its presence over the horizon.

It is often said that the Camino presents itself to the Pilgrim as three distinct experiences: first as a physical challenge, next as an emotional encounter, and finally as a spiritual awakening. It occurred to me that ours was thus far a textbook example of those words transformed into reality. I understood and expected the physical aspects that we had experienced. My still evolving focus upon self, others within the orbit of my life, and most of all my relationship with Christine was unanticipated and emotional. Spirituality? Speaking for myself, this was still more bucket list than pilgrimage. I was not looking for a spiritual experience.

The path that day avoided main roads and was almost exclusively a meandering walk through open countryside.

We would pass through 4 small villages before reaching Rabanal: Murias, Castrillo de Los Polvazares, Santa Catalina de Somoza, and El Ganso. The largest of these “Maragato” villages is home to fewer than 300, and most were suffering the ravages of time.

La Maragateria is a small and ancient historical region, with a distinct ethnic and cultural community, the Maragatos. Homes and buildings are of stone construction. Efforts to preserve the unique traditions seem linked to the failing efforts at preservation of the equally unique structures.

In the tiny and crumbling village of El Ganso stands the almost absurd “Cowboy Bar”.

We were greeted at the door by Ramiro, its owner and ”bartender”. It seemed that his total command of English was loudly calling out the words, “Whiskey! Whiskey! Whiskey!”, as if it was our responsibility to order up a shot or two.

However, when Christine replied, “Si!”, his smile and zeal slumped, and he politely shook his head, “no”. There were strong libations behind the bar, but perhaps it was too early, or possibly he did not wish to become the temptation that derailed her Camino that day. In any case we ordered non-alcoholic drinks which he cheerfully served, I took pictures, and we enjoyed the unique experience of “The Cowboy Bar”.

Spirits lifted, but not by alcohol, we continued our pleasant and picturesque hike through the countryside, arriving in Rabanal shortly after 2 p.m..

The tiny village (pop. 50) offered a surprising variety of lodging options capable of tripling the hamlet’s population. Among the alternatives were a 34 bed municipal albergue, a Hosteria, a small upscale hotel, two private albergues, and for up to 10 pilgrims willing to spend at least 2 nights, the Monastery of San Salvador del Monte Irago offered beds in its retreat house. We registered at the popular 76 bed Albergue Nuestra Senora del Pilar.

To say that this was a unique experience would be an understatement. First the good: The albergue offered a pleasant courtyard, bar, and restaurant. The staff was friendly, attentive, and the price was right.

The not-so-great parts centered upon the bedroom accommodations and lavatory facilities. 76 beds were tightly situated into two large dormitory rooms. The unisex bathroom contained only 2 water closets, 2 showers, and 2 sinks.

Except along the walls where single two-high bunks were reserved for unaccompanied females, 4 bunks were secured together in tandem, two up and two down. There was little room to stow our wet clothing and gear.

We had grown accustomed to sacrificed privacy, but Nuestra Senora del Pilar rose (descended?) to a new level. The feet in the toilet or shower stall adjoining the one you used could be male or female. The two sinks were so close to each other that bumping elbows while brushing ones teeth was almost unavoidable. Lines of Peregrinos “in need” formed before each toilet, shower, and sink. In the beds next to ours a young couple hung up their sheets so that we could not see the passion that we could not avoid hearing. In total the stay was an “interesting” experience that still brings a smile when recounted.

At the center of the town is the 12^th Century Iglesia de Santa Maria.

This tiny church, cave like in its interior, was open for pilgrims to attend. 7 p.m. Vespers and 9:30 p.m. night prayers presented by the Benedictine Monks of the adjacent Monastery of San Salvador del Monte Irago.

Four of these monks, each originating from Germany, offered prayer in Gregorian Chant at Vespers. This moving ceremony was attended by us and perhaps 25 other pilgrims who filled the chapel to near its capacity. At the conclusion of Vespers one of the monks addressed the gathering saying that a monk would remain to speak with any Peregrino who wished to visit.

Christine and I exited the church to dusk falling on the small outdoor courtyard. It troubled me that no pilgrim had remained to accept the offer of the solitary monk who remained within. I hesitated. Christine turned to me, “You want to go back, don’t you?” After a pause I replied that it saddened me that no one had stayed to accept the monk’s offer. Christine encouraged me to return to the church. She promised to wait for me outside.

I entered the chapel’s dark and now silent interior. Barely visible in the flickering light of the votive candles was a bent and aging figure seated in one of the six ancient choir seats aligned along one wall. As I approached he made no acknowledgement of my presence other than to slightly move his hand, indicating that I should sit at his side…

To be continued. Peace Everyone and Buen Camino. Pete