true life planet

So, in the morning I awoke freezing to death in the Arroyo San Bol refuge. It was so cold in the place that in spite of wearing almost all of the clothes I had brought with me and walking around using my sleeping bag as a cape, I was still cold.

The other guests were all out in the diningroom, eating a somewhat piecemeal breakfast of some sort of cereal and some pasta from the night before. I perched on a wobbly chair and drank a hot steaming cup of coffee and thought about how to approach the day.

Francisco and Jose had left very early in the day, so it was just to the remaining guests to organize things for the coming pilgrims.

Simon decided to chop wood with a somewhat dangerous looking, broken axe. I decided to make the beds and start sweeping and mopping the floors. The other guests seemed reluctant to leave, and decided to weed the yard.

By eight oclock in the morning, the place was clean and sparkly.

Then the pilgrims started coming.

Soon, the place was transformed from a tranquil refuge to a a busy, slightly chaotic, cafe.

Francisco had told me the night before that it would be my job to make the coffee and tea for all the pilgrims who stopped by the place on the way to the next refuge. Simon´s job was to check for pilgrim passports and stamp them(this took quite a long time as the stamp he had to use was ancient).

So, back to making coffee and tea…

The ¨kitchen¨was basically a double hotplate to the side of the kitchen table. I had one kettle to boil the water, and..only 6 cups.

There was no running water inside. I had to go outside, walk down thru the garden, around the corner, to the natural spring, and collect the water in a plastic 1/2 gallon jug labeled, ¨Blessed Water From Lourdes¨, that a picture of the Virgin Mary on it.

The spring itself is surrounded with cut stone..it is an underground spring that has been used by pilgrims thru the ages to wash their feet so that they can continue along the Camino. Apparently, if you washed your feet with the water from this spring, you would not have any more blisters and so on…

I have no idea how the drinking of coffee or tea with the water from this spring would affect a pilgrim, but surely it  would have only positive benefit!

Anyway, after trudging down the hill to get the water, I had to heat it up in the tiny kettle on the hotplate. It only heated up enough water for about 5 cups at a time.

Problem was, the pilgrims were showing up in groups of 6 to 8 people at a time. And-I only had 6 cups.

So, I would serve 6 cups of coffee or tea(I had to ask them which they wanted when they sat down, and then remember it all) and then quickly take the 6 cups down the hill to the spring to wash them in the spring. Then, start all over again.

Things went on like this for hours. I felt like I was in some strange Buddhist nightmare-like I was being told to move one pile of rocks to one spot and then back again.

But, I strangely enjoyed it. It was kind of fun, actually, to come out and greet the pilgrims, tell them to take off their muddy boots, and give them a hot cup of coffee and some time to relax.

Strangely, many pilgrims were quite demanding, asking for breakfast of all things! We (Simon and I) kept telling them we only had coffee, but some pilgrims whined quite alot until I finally gave in and brought out my own personal food stash-some granola bars and prunes. Stranger still, the pilgrims who ate  my food did not even say thankyou.

Arroyo San Bol is a donativo refuge-in other words, it relies on donations to exist, to buy food, to make repairs…and few of the pilgrims stopping by for coffee donated anything. One very nice couple from Denmark noticed this and offered 15 euros for the donation box.

In situations like this, it is amazing how the kindness and awareness of just a few people can change the awareness of everyone.

After the Danish couple donated their euros, every person who came thru the place placed a coin or two in the donation box. I was really happy with this change in things, because I think people sometimes don´t appreciate how much work the donativo refuges are and how the system works-they really rely exclusively on donations.

By 1 o´clock, I was exhausted. I had served over 70 cups of coffee-maybe as much as 100. I had given up most of my first aid kit to people who had need of bandages and antibiotic cream and so on. I had put needles thru blisters. I had massaged sore shoulders and swollen feet. I had smiled, greeted, listened, encouraged. It was so nice to truly be of service to other people.

Simon was outside cleaning up the patio, and several of the guests lingered from the night before in the bedroom. They seemed to be hoping to be able to stay on. They were in their sleeping bags in the icy cold bedroom discussing the ashram and the cosmic airport idea.

I decided to make lunch for everyone, as the pilgrim traffic had slowed down somewhat. Someone had some instant soup mix, and I found some garlic and onions, and somehow ended up making quite a decent soup. Simon had some cheese and bread in his backpack, and with this we all had quite a pleasant lunch.

Simon and I began to talk about who would show up that night for refuge-we both thought that whoever showed up  was supposed to be there that night. There was..kind of a sense of excitement about the mystery pilgrims that we would be sharing the evening with…

At this point the other guests finally seemed- however reluctantly- to leave. They wanted to stay on, and so I said to them, ¨Well, we manifest whatever happens to us, as you said.¨

This was not taken well. Apparently this supposition only applies to everyone else.

However, I liked the Australian girl quite alot, and when she left I gave her a big hug. She was the only woman I have met who was doing the Camino wearing skirts. Today she sported a black, rhinestoned skirt and she said goodbye to the place by twirling about the yard in it in seeming ecstacy.

A pilgrim from Mexico showed up, named Alejandro. He limped quite badly, and had some sort of problem with his knee. He seemed nervous, and stayed out on the patio, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He talked about moving on to the next refuge, or maybe even the one after that..yet he went nowhere.

When I saw him walk up to the place initially, I went in and told Simon I thought he would be staying there for the night. I just had the sense he was supposed to be one of the guests, I can´t say why. Simon felt the same way.

Alejandro asked me if I thought he should stay for the night. I glanced down at his leg, which he was holding in the air due to pain, and said yes. He asked how far it was to the next refuge, and I told him, ¨But you are supposed to be here tonight.¨

He looked at me sideways, then smiled. ¨You are right.¨

Jose and Francisco showed up sometime in the late afternoon, loaded with bags of provisions. Francisco went outside and smoked cigarette after cigarette with Alejandro, and they were obviously having a deep conversation. At one point, they both had tears in their eyes, and were hugging each other.

Alejandro somehow got the idea to clean out the giant cement and stone bathing pool that was connected to the spring. He seemed to overcome the pain of his injury and had lowered himself into the pool and was busily cleaning it.

Simon and Francisco were cutting wood for the woodstove.

Jose was drawing mandalas and staring off into space with an other worldly expression at the kitchen table.

I was busy making coffee-although Jose had set up a dishwashing station close to the front door upon his return, so the dishwashing part was not so labor intensive.

And the guests began to arrive….

A boy from Belgium, who was having knee problems and seemed somewhat lost..he was trying to figure out what to do with his life, and he only had a year to decide apparently.

¨How terrible¨¨, we all said. ¨How can you decide what to do with your life in one year?¨

¨I  never thought about it that way before. ¨, he said, and went out into the garden, looking alot more relaxed.

A couple from Canada, who were both dreadlocked and injured. They were planning on volunteering in France when they were done with the Camino. The woman was quite interesting-she told me how she had lived in a an army tent for the past year in Canada. The basic conditions of Arroyo san Bol did not seem to bother her, which was nice. (The lack of a bathroom seemed to scare off most of the women who had come thru and considered, however briefly, the idea of staying for a night).

A German man came last-we were all inside, drinking hot tea around the stove when we looked out the wiindow and saw him coming towards the refuge on the path. At the time, Gregorian chant music was playing, and watching him come down the path was quite surreal to watch. I would almost call it a religious experience. It was like a picture of the past-one really had a sense of the past watching him come towards the refuge, in the rain, in the dim evening light.

 We all gathered at the window and said, ¨He´s the last guest.¨ We all had the sense that he was supposed to be there that night.

We had no more beds(there were only six), so Simon decided to give up his bed and sleep on the floor, before the German guy had even walked in the door. I put on a pot of hot water for more tea, and when the German guy opened the door, we were all ready for him. The man literally came in the door beaming, he was so happy to be indoors, where it was warm, with the hot coffee waiting.

Francisco had an interesting perspective about the guests.  He did nothing to encourage them to stay. He  was of the mind that the right people would come  to stay, and that the people who were meant for another refuge would move on.

Some pilgrims would burst in thru the door, disrupting the calm, tranquil atmosphere and insist on eating some food there. We had no food to give them and they would just keep insisting, saying they needed to eat so they could move onwards quickly. Everytime this happened, we would all glance at each other, knowing that they were not meant to stay here-this was not a place for someone wanting to get any place quickly( at least physically, anyway.) This was a place for contemplation(and for work! The place was in such disrepair that everyone who ended up staying had ended up volunteering to do something or other around the place.)

One man who was in a terrible rush, came in thru the door, claiming not to even have time to take off his dirty boots, insistent that he must have food. Francisco was very gentle with him and told him that we did not have food for him. Yet he kept insisting. I finally went and got my last few granola bars from my pack for him-which I meant to offer him a choice, not all of them. He grabbed them all-and quickly consumed them, never even saying thankyou before he got up from the table and went out the door, leaving a muddy trail for us to mop up after him.

¨Buen Camino¨,we all called out after him. He did not even wave or turn around.

At this point, we all gathered around the table. Simon and I agreed we had the perfect group of guests…and we all began to prepare dinner together.

The night would turn out to be a real turning point in my spiritual life-taking me down a path I could never have expected. Francisco would turn out to be a very important person for me tonight, and talking with him and Alejandro would turn out to be one of those shining moments in one´s life where one experiences complete clarity.

Tonight would be the night that my Camino truly started-and my faith in God, goodness, and even angels would be confirmed.

gigi

I walked up to the door of the Arroyo San Bol refuge, glad to get out of the inclement weather and thrilled to find the place open.

However, it apparently wasn´t open today-it´s official opening day was tomarrow. There were a few pilgrims inside who had somehow managed to convince them to let them in a day early.

Somehow or other, it turned out that there was a bed for me as  well, which made me very happy indeed. It´s amazing how these simple things, like a bed for the night, a hot loaf of bread, a bit of cheese or an actual hot shower can make your day on the Camino!

The refuge itself has had a somewhat nutty history. In the past year, it had been temporarily run by the Bahai (there they are again!), which for whatever reason did not work out. Before the Bahai, it was run by a wild bunch of people, and apparently was quite the party place. I had heard stories of these wild times, which apparently were not to the taste of the surrounding villages, who were extremely happy when the pleasure seekers left. Before this last group, the place had been run by a man who had left a religious order of some kind and was apparently quite charismatic. He was open to having volunteers stay on and work on the place, at at times hosted various people who were considering devoting themselves to lives as nuns or monks.

The two people running the place this time around were two extremely interesting characters-the main guy was a man named Francisco, who was a Knight of the Templar(a Catholic order); he was assisted by a guy from Slovenia named Jose, who had just finished the Camino the past winter.

Francisco and Jose had only been there for four days, and had been working on the place, cleaning it up. There obviously was much work left to be done, and the place was a shambles. It had been vandalized in the past year, and the windows had been broken. The very beautiful chapel, painted with a celestial scene, was falling in and the place was pretty dirty. They had been working away for several days when I arrived, making repairs and trying to get it ready for guests.

Francisco had previously worked at a refuge, and told me he had been told by God that he was to be at this refuge for ten years. He was not only to provide hospitality to pilgrims, he was to improve the place drastically(it did not even have a bathroom or electricity). He was also to build an enormous church/holy place on the property, using age old principles long forgotten. He had several books on the subject, and was going to be using them as a guide.

Francisco was espeically interesting to me. He had walked the Camino, and had been fundamentally changed by it. In fact, he had changed his entire life because of whatever happened on his walk to Santiago. He had become a Knight of the Templar, an interesting order of Knights, who are sort of like monks-except that they believe in having companions and they are not celibate. In fact, their insignia shows two people on a horse, showing the importance of duality, of two people. They are the only order that holds this belief.

Jose was more esoteric. I mean to say, he was the most esoteric person I have come across in my entire life. He walked around in a cream colored outfit, did not seem to be in need of shoes, looked at me intensely without blinking, and talked about Hari Krishnas and so on. Sometimes when I was talking to him(or someone else was) he would suddenly get up and go do yoga and stand on his head in the yard.

As if these two were enough to take in, the other guests also all had their own particular energy and take on life.

First off, there were three women, who had all arrived together before me. They were:

An Australian woman, sort of a free spirit, who twirled about  the yard and had been traveling for some time around the world;

An Canadian woman, who was quite pretty, drank cup after cup of coffee, had tons of nervous energy(perhaps due to vast quantities of coffee!), who had decided to turn her hair into dreadlocks that very day, and was busy knotting her hair into dreadlocked plaits;

Another woman, I forget where she was from, some Eurpean country, who had just returned from working in an ashram in India, where she had some sort of teacher. She listened to chanting music alot, talked about we manifest whatever we have in our life-although this only applied to the bad things that seemed to happen(interesting supposition, but doubtful), and also spoke for a few hours on the subject of ¨Cosmic Airports¨. Apparently these are the idea of her teacher in India, who has come upon the idea that there should be these places where people come to die and other people come to give birth-thereby creating a ¨Cosmic Airport¨, where souls from the dead can then enter the new bodies of the newly borne. Apparently, this would also prevent the trama of birth, which, according to this woman, we are all suffering from.The first one of these airports is going to be in Sweden, and there will also be another one in some very rich part of Colorado…

The last guest was a sweet guy named Simon, who looked like someone out of a Mad Max movie, as he had a dreadlocked mohawk and a somewhat alarming sense of style. The moment he smiled, though, he lit up the room. I had run into him earlier, and had hoped I would see him again. I was very happy when he walked in thru the door at San Bol. I had the sense that he was supposed to be there.

The dinner that night was odd-the food was excellent, but the conversation and the energy seemed out of whack. The ashram woman was especially hard to get along with, even when I nodded my head along, she never seemed satisfied. The whole cosmic airport thing seemed really interesting, and I tried to be as agreeable as I could to the idea and asked questions when I could think of them.. I had thought when I met her that perhaps the spiritual experience I had dreamt of was going to happen with her, as upon initial meeting she seemed like a very spiritual person. By the time she finished explaining the cosmic airport idea(what she could of it), I quite frankly felt like she was one of the most confused people I had ever met.

Along the Camino, one meets all types of people, believing in all types of beliefs. It´s all of interest to me-I usually like talking of such things. But one thing I have found, is that if you are a Catholic(or a person with a more traditional religion) people treat you differently, even if you treat their beliefs with respect. And, sometimes, their beliefs are so different, that you try to relate to them, try to understand what their belief consists of, but-by then, they´ve already made judgements about you and your belief, and they are closed. It´s a bit weird to be on what is a historically religious pilgrimage, but be traveling with many people who will not even visit a church along the way.

(Of course, this isn´t specific to the  Camino itself-it is an unfortunate thing in the world that people of all faiths, all beliefs, cannot decide together that God is all about love, and it´s that simple. Everyone has to bring their humanity into it, of course, or speak of blame instead of the love.)

But, I digress…

After dinner, the ashram woman put on some very creepy chanting music, and then Jose began chanting along with the music. He sort of seemed to be attempting some sort of Spock like mind meld with the other guests, and he spoke in this mysterious way that seemed to start somewhere but not end in any place in particular. I felt somewhat ill at ease and lost. The three women guests were apparently enjoying the mind meld very much, and I felt like perhaps they were having the experience there that they had come there for.

I felt somewhat disappointed in the evening-having come this far to the place, and having had such interesting dreams before getting here, I was surprised that I had felt little connection with the people here.

I decided to go to bed, and let them have the space for their chanting and so on.

Before bed, I asked Francisco if I could stay another day…I had the distinct sense that I was supposed to be here in this place, but had perhaps arrived a day early!

Francisco took me aside and said,¨Yes, good. You are a good person-I trust you. I was waiting for you. We have to go to Burgos tomarrow, so we need you to run the place until we get back in the afternoon. You will have to make coffee and tea for all the passing pilgrims tomarrow morning, and recieve the next group of guests.¨

Wow. So maybe that´s why I was supposed to stay here, I thought.

At that moment, Simon offered to stay also. We both knew that this is where we were supposed to be.

The other three guests suddenly offered to stay, but there were not enough beds for that many volunteers and the   guests tomarrow, so Francisco told them no.

I went to bed happy, looking forward to tomarrow, and wondering what guests would show up..having the feeling that tomarrow held something new and beautiful for me.

Next entry..¨How To Make 70 cups of Coffee With 6 Cups!¨

gigi

I awoke bright and early in Burgos-there was no choice, as the extremely grumpy volunteer warden of the refuge awoke us all at 6 am, barking out orders to get out of the place. (This was not terribly surprising, since ... [Continue reading this entry]

Guess what? The photos are finally all up from Guatemala, Honduras, and Panama.