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 the night before he had shared with me that, ¨..he didn´t even really like people…¨!)

Leaving Burgos, I walked thru a somewhat ugly industrial area and tons of new condos, and then finally began a nice little country walk. Unfortunately, other pilgrims were always nearby or within sight-we all had left at about the same time.

I prefer to walk alone, to be alone with my thoughts, to look at what I want to look at, to walk at my own pace. There is something about the Camino, some sort of magical effect it has on me, that is best felt when walking alone. I feel like I can just let my mind go blank, be empty, and fill it with the impressions of the landscape I am walking thru without distractions or pleasantries. However, many other people walk in groups, talking with one another the entire way. I usually hold back and let them pass me by, but, this time it was unavoidable, and I ended up walking with a small group of people all the way to Hontanas. They turned out to be a very pleasant group of Belgians, who were thankfully reasonably mild mannered and quiet themselves, more interested in observing the landscape than talking about jobs, real estate,how many kilometers so and so had walked yesterday, and so on.

Hontanas was very crowded with pilgrims when I arrived-it seemed everyone wanted to stay there. I was also thinking about staying there for the night, as it was cold, windy, and drizzling-and the town itself is quite sweet and has a lovely history with the Camino.

I was eating a extremely massive bocadillo(ham sandwich) and walking around the tiny village, enjoying the sights(which included  old run down buildings..and more, old, run down buildings..)when I saw a man coming towards me on the road, carrying a bottle of wine.

Well-not just any man. In fact, he was one of the many Don Juan types I have encountered on the Camino, and he had been doggedly pursuing me since the start in Roncesvalles. Of course, he had been pursuing every woman that he cared to along the way as well-not just me.

He stopped me in the street and invited me for lunch-he had all the fixings for a a lovely meal, including wine and some little sweet cakes. I turned him down, and with a grand gesture, he kissed my hand, and said ¨On the outside, I am a little man. But on the inside- I have big love for you.¨

Hmmmm…

I decided it was best to leave Hornillos del Camino-the thought of sharing the refuge with him did not seem like it would be pleasant. In a refuge, there is not much privacy-one changes clothes, showers and so on near people of the opposite sex, and it there is an unwritten rule that you sort of pretend the people near you are not standing about in their underwear. This particular guy was definitely not going to respect this rule…

Walking out of Hontanas, I thought about all the Don Juans I had met so far..

I had read Shirley Maclaine´s book about walking the Camino, and she, too, had talked about meeting these numerous Don Juans on the road to Santiago.

It would seem that many men walk the Camino to meet women-and they approach women in such a persisitent manner, that they are upon occassion sucessful. One man told me that it was true that many people walked the Camino to hopefully meet someone for a quick laison without attachment…Every Don Juan I had met so far had been from Spain, lived alone(so they said, although they usually had some sort of girlfriend), and had done the Camino, either in parts or it´s entirity, numerous times. They tended to be extremely complementary on the first meeting, and tended to like to get near you, squeezing your waist, your hand(or anything else they could get their hands on). If you were even slightly friendly, they would invite you to dinner, and then to a nearby hotel for the night. Sometimes they would invite me for several days to a hotel!

I found them annoying. I always would say that I was on the Camino for spiritual reasons, which was true-but this rarely stopped them from trying to squeeze one´s body parts. If anything, they took it as a challenge to up their romantic advances.

Telling them I had a boyfriend made no difference, either. They took this to mean it was possible to have some sort of temporary relationship with no strings attached. If anything, I think it made me more attractive.

Several Brazilian women told me the best course of action was to never look them in the eye, and to continuously talk about God…this actually worked quite well, most of the time.!

I walked alone out of Hontanas, and found a more peaceful, quiet spot to eat lunch near an old stone mill. The mill was perched on a hill, and was all of old stone, overgrown with vines and hot pink roses. I sat behind a hedge of tall thistles, watching little rabbits scamper about and pigeons nesting. Ah, so tranquil!

I also had a good view of the road from my vantage point on the hill-I could see but not be seen. Suddenly, who did I see coming down the road, but the Don Juan from Hontanas.

Somehow he saw me. He walked up to where I was, pulled out the bottle of wine, and said ,  ¨I could not bear to drink this without you¨, and kissed my hand.

Great. Resigned to my fate(of at least sharing lunch with him), I sighed and invited him to sit down. At least the food was free, I thought!

After lunch, we set out for the road. I decided to sort of limp along and go very slowly, hoping he would get impatient and decide to take off on his own. It worked, and eventually he went on ahead(Another characteristic of Don Juans is that they have to cover alot of kilometers in a day if they are not making love to someone with their words or otherwise-it´s important to get to the next refuge and the next opportunity!).

So, I walked on alone, entering the part of the Camino called the ¨Mesita¨. The mesita is reasonably flat, with very little except the landscape stretching out in all directions before you as far as the eye can see. There are few trees and little shade. Apparently, many people skip this part of the Camino because they find the landscape boring.

I, however, loved it. In fact, it reminded me of home. It was also the first time in many days that I had been utterly, totally alone on the Camino. The few precious times I have had alone on the Camino have affected me profoundly. Most of the time on the Camino, one is near other people-and, at night, you are sleeping in you bunk head to head with more than twenty other people in a tiny room-so, to actually be totally alone is special.

For some reason the landscape seemed endless, perhaps because there were no points of reference. It just seemed like I was walking endlessly on and on, and eventually I got quite tired and decided to take a nap. I found a clearing and spread out my jacket and fell asleep for about an hour.

When I awoke, I was somewhat confused as to where I was. I had also had a strange, curious dream about meeting an angel who was on a road and told me to go a different direction than the road I was on. It was confusing, because there was only one road in front of me. I had the sense that something was about to change.

I kept walking down the road, and quite frankly, began to consider sleeping outside. It was getting late, it was drizzling a bit, it was very cold, and I could see no refuge in sight-only small huts for pigeons. I was just beginning to consider a night in a pigeon hut, when I saw a refuge in the distance.

It was the place I had been looking for-the refuge of Arroyo San Bol. I had not only read about it in my Camino guides, I had dreamt of the place about a week before as well. I felt drawn to the place and was curious as to what awaited me there. I had the sense that I was about to have a very spiritual experience.

gigi

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

Just go to the right hand side of this blog, and scroll down to ¨truelifeplanet photos¨. They are up on the flickr site. If you want to have me email you a photo or more, please contact me on the blog(as you have to pay flickr otherwise).

Prepare to be blown away by the beauty of the Ngobe along with everything else…

Thanks to Jenny Heffernon for helping me get all the photos up. I appreciate you, you are beautiful and lovely and everything good.

gigi

 I´m a bit behind, as far as blog entries go…I´m going to try to post a few right now, but..it depends on whether this computer is needed by someone else or not.

¨When I find myself alone in trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be, let it be.¨-John Lennon

So, I´ve got a sweet little dog that I left behind back in the USA.

How can I go around the world for several years and leave a loved pet behind? What kind of person would do such a thing?

Well, to answer that question(and believe me, I´ve asked this question of myself plenty of times over the past few months), the answer is: if you are meant to go, to travel, to experience life in the way that travel makes you experience it, these things such as having pets, having loved ones, having a life that you temporarily leave behind is part of the package. I´ve met countless travelers whose dogs, cats, fish,..even children are being temporarily taken care of by others so that they can follow their heart and follow the travelers path to wherever it takes them.

But, it doesn´t mean that you do not worry about those you leave behind. In fact, up until recently, I´ve been extremely preoccupied with leaving my dog behind. In spite of the fact that she is happy as a clam and well taken care of, showered with attention and love, and living with her other animal friends, I have worried.

Recently, I recieved a series of emails telling me she was ill and may need surgery. I was literally going out of my mind, feeling selfish for being on my trip and feeling like I should be there to take care of things.

Due to time differences, I could not be in contact with her caregiver at a normal hour, and so was hearing about things at a time when I could not email a reply back.

Unable to find an internet connection that was open at a compatible hour, I spent an entire evening stressed out and not sleeping well. I felt alone, stranded, and out of sorts.

The following morning I had no choice but to catch by bus to Burgos, as I could not afford another day in the city of Pamplona, and needed to get to a refuge, where I could get an inexpensive bed in a refuge.

On arrival in Burgos, I walked out the bus terminal and about a block later found a small, somewhat unimpressive church..and walked in thru a side door. A cleaning crew was cleaning the sacristy, and on their tiny radio was playing John Lennon singing, ¨Let It Be¨.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Nice message, I thought to myself-but a bit difficult to practice in reality.

I walked to the refuge, got myself a bed, took a freezing cold shower, and decided to walk around the city.

Walking down a small dark street, trying to make my way to the famous Gothic cathedral(which I could see peeking out above the city, but seemed somewhat elusive), I was standing in front of a beautiful little house, bursting with window boxes of geraniums, when a car pulled up alongside me.

A man opened the car door, his car radio still on, and what was playing, but…

¨Let It Be¨, by John Lennon.

Strange, I thought. It was like an hour since I´d heard it the last time, in the church.

The man started talking to me. ¨Pilgrim?¨, he asked.

¨Si, Si¨, I said. We started talking about his city and the sights to be seen. It turned out I had come on an auspicious day, the day of the fiesta for the White Virgin, who is housed in the huge Gothic cathedral. Apparently you can ask anything of her and she will grant your wish on this day of the year-if you believe.

His mother then came outside, she was wearing street clothes, but over them had on a rosy pink padded housecoat, and her hair was tied up in a bright green scarf the color of pea soup. She seemed to be in the middle of housecleaning.

She apparently took a liking to me and invited me inside the house. Before I know it, we were eating a very nice lunch of homemade garlic soup(that had what seemed to be poached eggs in it), chorizo,bread, olives, cheese, and a very nice wine.

We spent about an hour talking about the Camino de Santiago.

She said, ¨People come to Spain to do the Camino. What they do not understand is that one does not do the Camino, the Camino does you. People think they decide to do the Camino, but it is God who decides who does the Camino.¨

Wow. People who actually talk about God. I´m not used to this-even on the Camino, God is not mentioned much, in spite of the fact that it is historically a religious pilgrimage!

I started telling her about my dog and my worries that I could not know what was happening, whether she was ok, and so on.

She said, ¨God will take care of your dog-you shouldn´t worry. You need to just continue on your Camino.¨

I left their house, but, secretly, I was still a bit worried. A tiny bit.

I decided to take a bus to get to the cathedral, as my ankle was a bit swollen and walking on it too much seemed unwise. While waiting for the bus to arrive, I talked for about 10 minutes with a young, black, dreadlocked man from Uganda who told me about what it was like to be young and black in Spain(not easy).

The bus arrived and we both got on.

He sat down next to me, first taking off his jacket.

That´s when I read his t-shirt: It had a picture of John Lennon, and the words, ¨Let It Be.¨

Very strange, I thought.

Then he took off his ipod for a moment, and I could hear the music playing…it was of course, John Lennon, singing , ¨Let It Be¨.

He got off before me, and standing up, put on his jacket, then flashed me a brilliant white, perfect smile, and he said, ¨Let it be, man.¨

I had told him nothing of my worries.

Suddenly, I got it. I suppose I have to be hit over the head a million billion times to get something to sink in, but eventually..I do actually hear what is being said to me.

I got off at my stop, and realized in that moment how much of my life was spent worrying. How much of life, the way we design it, with all of our busyness and so on is set up by us around worrying about things we can do absolutely nothing about.(Like death for example).

I realized that if I just have faith, everything will turn out exactly as it should be, as it was meant to be. Me worrying about it has no effect whatsoever.

I was standing looking at the huge, lacey cathedral thinking these thoughts when it began pouring rain. I had no raincoat, no umbrella-the rain came out of nowhere.

I walked into a little shop, selling postcards, to get out of the downpour.

A woman behind the counter asked, ¨Pilgrim?¨

I said yes, I was a pilgrim. She handed me a brand new umbrella, red with blue polka dots.

¨No, no. Don´t pay. It is a gift.¨, she said.

Smiling, and knowing that everything really does happen in it´s own perfect time, I took the umbrella, said thankyou, and walked out across the square towards the cathedral doors.

When I got inside, I was so completely blown away by the beauty of the place that my mind went blank.

I realized how much the worries of life-from my dog to money to whatever-the concerns, the day to dayness of my life has gotten in the way of my spiritual life. How I have allowed these things to get in the way of truely trusting that everything will be as it should be.

And at that moment, I believe my spiritual journey on the Camino began.

gigi

 P.S. My dog is fine, by the way. Thankyou to all of those people who are helping with her care. You are all with me on this journey.

Hello Everyone,

This is just a short email to say that I have made it as far as Boadilla de Camino. I am fine, although I have a temperature today and my ankle needs a few days rest-so I will be staying here in this refuge for a few days before continuing onwards.

I have much to write, and many interesting experiences to tell. I have certainly learned many spiritual lessons so far on this extraordinary journey, which has ended up being so much more than I could have ever envisioned.

I hope to have the opportunity to blog a bit while here at this refuge. Please stay tuned and keep checking in in the next few days I will have the entries all up. I am sorry I haven´t been the best blogger-but internet has not been available often; and when it has, it has been too expensive to utilize.

Wishing all my readers a peaceful day. gigi

This is just a general update for everyone´s benefit about the projects in the comarca of Panama.

Everyone´s asking, ¨Well, that´s great! I want to help, but how?¨

There are three ways you can help.

1. Donation after paypal and or non profit staus set up (this is taking some time)

2. Donation to the two smaller projects(how to do this is below)

3. Volunteering(details below as well)

What I am working on right now is setting up paypal for Medo, the organization I am working with. I am also hoping for a progress report on their nonprofit status, as this was process was just starting when I left.

One thing to understand, is that while in our culture, things happen pretty quickly, things in other places don´t happen quite as quickly. It doesn´t mean that the people in other places don´t want or deserve your help, it just means its a slower culture in general.

There is also alot more red tape for people in indigenous groups to get things done. They might not have access to everything someone in more mainstream culture has.

The bridge project is such a large project that it may take up to a year to organize it, and it requires more money than the others, so it´s funding..and donations to it specifically, will have to wait for the non profit status to come thru. (Which I´ve been told can take a year in Panama).

So, that´s the state of affairs at the moment. I´m just waiting.

I have told the Ngobe that the two smaller projects (the midwife house and the women´s coop), which together totoal 2,000.00 for everything, could hopefully be completed in a year. This means that they would be done with monies collected before official non profit status happens for Medo.

What I would like to focus on now is these two projects, because they are:

1. Urgent.

2. Showing the people of Cerro Limon and the other communities that they can accomplish something positive, and that their efforts to date will not go unrewarded. (They have been holding community meetings, have donated land, and have found cheap local sources for materials).

The amount of money needed for each project isn´t much, so what I´m trying to do is set up a site about the two projects, which will have a paypal on it, so that you can directly donate to them specifically. Once again, this is taking some time. It seems like I will have more time once in England to really set up both projects and get things done.

Volunteering is also another way to help. You can do this by applying specifically to Medo as a volunteer-just go to Idealist.com, scroll to Panama, then scroll to Medo. All the volunteer applications are sent to me at this point since I am the volunteer coordinator.

Another thing I am thinking about is getting together a group of skilled people from around the world to visit the Ngobe I was working with in 3 years time. The bridge project will be done by then, and the coop and women´s health center will have been up and running for two years, so it would be a good time to visit and evaluate whats next.

Anyone who is interested in something like this should contact me. By keeping the visit within a group context, the visit could be very well coordinated and so on.

So, for those of you who wish to help, please have patience. I will be closely following Medo´s progress regarding the paypal feature and the non profit status of the organization, and depending on how things go in the next few months I will either decide to create my own organization to fund the projects or rely on Medo exclusively.

Thanks for all of the interest….from Girl Scouts to a group of quilters in Iowa to women Buddhist monks in Vietnam, the willingness of all of you to help people less fortunate than yourselves has really moved me.

I have sent some of your responses on to the Ngobe themselves, and it moves them that other people would think their problems are important when they thought they were somewhat forgotten.

I will keep you posted on the progress of the projects and the needs that need to be met.There will be a progress report every few weeks, and as soon as I have a place that you can safely donate, it will be posted on this site. 

gigi

gigi

I made it into Pamplona without too much difficulty-the walk was pretty easy thru urban areas.

Once in Pamplona, I spent the next several hours at the Cathedral de Santa Maria, an absolutely beautiful place, full of art and treasures. One could spend several days there, there is so much to look at and take in.

I managed to get there in time for Mass, which was done in Latin and Spanish, and really quite beautiful. As I listened to the singing, I imagined what the experience must have been like for pilgrims long ago, walking into Pamplona, the first large city on their route to Santiago. The church must have inspired them to keep going, as it does to pilgrims today.

The church has alot of art of course, but it also has a museum that allows one to see the kitchen with enormous oven-apparently, pilgrims used to come here for food, so monks had to bake bread all day long. The whole place must have been black with soot!

After I left the church, I ran into(by happy accident) the Australian man I had met at the start, and we headed off to the Museo de Narvarra, which I had heard had some of the best preserved Roman mosaics ever seen.

The mosaics were breathtaking-enormous, and very well preserved, all made of small chips of stone. They were often simple geometric patterns, but repeated on a large scale, making them truly awe inspiring.

My mind was whirling with mosaics when we got to the Gothic mural paintings. Wow.  I have no words(you will have to come yourself!).

I eventually wandered off again by myself, and ended up walking around a good portion of the city, visiting the cuidadela, a huge fort that is on one end of the city before deciding the ankle needed a rest and finding a room for a few nights.

I found a lovely room witha balcony, overlooking a park. On the bottom floor of the hotel was a little shop, the sort that has fruits and bread and cheese..and wine. I wandered in and bought some food for the next few days…

It´s a different experience shopping in one of these little shops. You don´t actually ever touch anything. There are all these piles of fruit and so on, but you just have to ask them to get it for you. I kept trying to get some fruit that was ripe, ready to eat that day, which apparently doesn´t exist here-people eat fruit when it´s not as soft here.

This turned out to be to my benefit, as the woman wrapped up some apricots for me that she had decided were for eating that same day, and once in my room, I ate all of them, as they were so delicately flavored, so aromatic, that I could not help myself!

I then spread out my dinner of cheese and bread and wine on the table of my balcony, and had a wonderful dinner all alone, watching all the families and couples in the park, my mind reeling from all the art I had seen that day.

I will be spending one more day here, before taking a bus to Burgos, which is the first starting point for the mesita (flat plains) part of the Camino. I´m choosing this part because it is flat, with little downhill parts(and therefore easy on the ankle!). I´m also choosing it because it´s a part of the Camino many choose to miss if they are short on time, since it is very hot and has long distances without much else than flat plains. But, that sounds very beautiful to me.

gigi

I arrived in Tinidad de Arre feeling relaxed and blissful. The walk there from Akerreta had been, for me, one of the most beautiful parts of the walk so far. Red poppies, tiny blue butterflies, old falling down stone barns and beautiful views combined with absolutely perfect weather made the entire morning perfect.

On arriving in Trinidad de Arre, I lingered on the beautiful Romanesque bridge, which was in incredible condition. Right after the bridge was the monastery, with enormous doors and I rang the buzzer while examining the beautiful wrought iron work.

A little man came out, who introduced himself as Raul. I pointed to my ankle, and he motioned for me to come in and make myself at home. We went into his office, which was a sort of long, narrow room with a tall ceiling and some of the most beautiful paintings of Christ and Mary on the walls. The entire wall space behind his enormous desk was taken up by one painting alone-and he looked even smaller in his office, dwarfed by both desk and painting.

Raul was quite a charater, and once my pilgrim passport was stamped, he took me on a tour of the place. I was quite lucky to be let in, as the place wasn´t supposed to open for hours yet. He had let me in he said because of my ankle-they always let in hurt pilgrims early.

Interestingly, Trinidad de Arre is one of the few places along the Camino that still have laws regarding the treatment and care of pilgrims from the Camino. Raul explained that the town has a tradition of helping pilgrims with problems, and that this is one reaosn they are open year around.

The tour of the place was somewhat limited-people still live on the premises, so much of the place was off limits. The chapel, however, was a very sweet place. It had gorgeous art, covered in gold leaf, and so on. Unfortunately, it was particially destroyed at some point, and so part of it was rebuilt with different materials and attention to detail. The original parts of it are well worth visiting, however.

The chapel is connected to a hall, which leads out to an enclosed garden. This peaceful garden is walled in with beautiful stone walls that go up quite high. The garden walls are in fact what remains from the original pilgrim hospital from the past.

The whole place was magical, and had a lovely sweetness which made me want to stay there forever.

I decided to take a nap on my bunk after making a snack in the kitchen, and when I awoke, several other pilgrims had arrived, one woman from the USA, and one man from England. They, too, seemed to be suffering physically from their walk.

I fell back asleep, and when I awoke, I decided to go down the street to try out the ¨Pilgrim menu¨at a local restaurant. Once there, I ran into the Englishman (Peter), and the woman from the USA(Patricia). Patricia and I hit it off marvelously, and I found her to be a vey interesting woman. We had dinner together , which turned out to be a very bland meal of fried fish and french fries(this fried thing seems to be the norm for these dinners, I am discovering!). It was somewhat disappointing, but on the other hand-what am I to expect for 6 euros!?

The next day, Patricia asked Raul if the three of us could stay another day. Raul said yes, and all we needed to do was help out around the place. He also said one could volunteer along the way, working for one´s keep, at most of the refugios. This was great news for me-perhaps doing the Camino slower and without so much expense would be possible after all.

After cleaning the bathrooms and in the morning, I was in a bit of shock. It was really terrible how the pilgrims left messes behind when they left the refugio-it was actually embarrassing to me. People left trash everywhere, left the kitchen a mess, left beds disgustingly dirty, left showers filthy….and they aren´t in a five star hotel with someone paid to clean up after them, they are in a place that costs at most 6 euros a night! I gained a whole new appreciation for the work it takes to keep these refugios up and running, and I also learned that the work is done by volunteers or very lowly paid workers, who rarely get the appreciation they deserve.

I spent some time thinking about this state of affairs, and how I hadn´t really taken this into account myself-the work involved in supporting pilgrims on the Camino. I actually(no doubt, like many others) hadn´t thought about it at all.

Once again, the hurt ankle proves to be a blessing in disguise, causing me to slow down and get another point of view on the Camino.

So, I talked to Raul some more about volunteering along the way, and it seems that it really would be possible-as well as a good way to keep reminding myself of why I am here, and what my journey is about-being of service around the world. Funnily, this was going to be the part of my trip not involving being of service, but obviously it´s not up to me!

So I´m embracing this new view of the Camino with real happiness, and excited to see what spiritual growth comes forth from it.

After cleaning the place, Patricia and I took off to look around the town-which is now really a suburb of Pamplona. These suburbs just stretch as far as the eye can see, but, somehow in the middle of it all, we came across a beautiful display of graffiti art on a long wall.

Graffiti art? Yes, well, it´s art. Or, at least, it can be. The graffiti here(and there is alot of it) is very political..and very interesting. We spent most of the afternoon photographing it, much to the amazement of the locals walking by, who seemed embarrased of it and walked on as if it wasn´t there.

We also found some old abandoned buildings, which we happily photographed until we realized it was not the safest spot to be! But the graffiti inside these buildings was spectacular and it was somewhat humbling to be in these buildings, obviously inhabited by people who had no real home. One thing I have been acutely aware of here in Sapin is that in spite of all the old beautiful buildings, art, and so on, there are alot of homeless people, people who are not born into a life with advantages, people who are on the fringe of society. You don´t see too much of it along the tourist Camino trail, but, nonetheless, it is there, just like everywhere else.

Patricia and I spent a long time talking about how amazing it was that the Camino itself goes right by all of this art-the graffiti, the churches, and so on-and that people on the Camino don´t even know it´s there. Or if they did, would they even stop anyway? As we talked and laughed and photographed, Camino´ers hurried by us, anxious to get to Pamplona and beyond.

In the evenings, when I would go get something for dinner, I´d sit near the groups of people playing games of cards(men play with men; women play with women), a game which has cards picturing saints and uses polished stone pieces as part of the game. I´d sit there and watch, everyone talking to me and being so lovely and friendly.

We all ended up spending 3 days there-Peter, Patricia, and myself-volunteering alongside Raul and Moses, the other custodian of the place. Being in the monastery and the surrounding town has been a highlight of my around the world experience.

On my way out of town, numerous people stopped me in the street and shook my hand. They loved that I had stayed in their town for so many days, had gone to all their places, had bought bread where they bought their bread, had drunk coffee where they drank their coffee…

¨Buen Camino!¨, they all said.

Yes, well, it´s been very good so far. Slow, lovely, and very good indeed!

gigi

I left Zubiri in the morning in better spirits, determined to do what I could as far as the Camino was concerned.

Having spent the previous night nursing both my ankle and my psyche, I had decided that the injury happening so soon was perhaps a blessing in disguise.

From the very start of the Camino, I had been really surprised by all the rushing around to be the fastest, the best, and so on. Maybe this was because although I just spent a week in the States before arriving in Spain, I´m still living by Central American time and values. I have to admit a certain amount of culture shock upon arrival to Spain, which seemed to have only worsened with the start of the Camino.

But I think it is also that here I am in one of the most beautiful places I´ve ever seen-and, I want to see it. I don´t just want to get thru it. I want to experience it, I want to savor it.

So I began to see the injury as a gift, really. It´s forcing me to create my own Camino, to go my own way-which is slower and perhaps more interested in the journey than in the arriving at any particular destination. In fact, I realized that I may never arrive in Santiago at all-and if and when I do, the Compostella(the paper saying you walked the last 100 km) may end up not being terribly important to me.

So, this new revelation in mind, I dawdled over a breakfast of apples and granola, and then hobbled out to meet a new day on the Camino.

With this more enlightened(for me, anyway) and relaxed approach, the next few hours were heavenly. Every old building I passed, I touched. Every pasture of cows and sheep, I stood and watched. Rounding a corner and hearing the tinkling of cowbells sounded like a beautiful eerie song to my ears. Stopping at makers along the Camino, I made time to pick a few flowers and place them on the gravestones. Another walker, a man from Australia, walked with me for a bit and told me about his divorce and his spiritual reasons for walking the Camino, and then disappeared on ahead of me. A woman watering her flowers outside her enormous stone cottage stopped and shook my hand, wiping her muddy hand on her housedress first. A man with an enormous dog- which came lumbering towards me down the path and scared me to death-apologized and invited me for coffee and eggs with his wife.

Meanwhile, other walkers walked by me, poles and walking sticks clanking into the earth.

I arrived in Larrasona, a tiny hamlet, just as the sun was coming out in all its glory. I walked around a bit, hoping the refugio would open soon. However, it was too early, and so I decided I could make it to Trinidad de Arre, the next stop in my booklet.

I didn´t quite make it…I ended up stopping in front of this absolutely beautiful hotel in Akerreta, a tiny vilage. I was struck by the beauty of the building before I realized it was a hotel.

A group of tourists were in front of it, waiting for a taxi. Actually, they were walking the Camino as well, but doing it in high-style, walking only the parts they chose, staying at hotels, and sending taxis on with their bags the entire way. One of them was a doctor, who insisted on looking at my ankle.

A chair was brought out and my poor ankle was shown to the doctor, as well as his wife and all of their friends, the owner of the hotel, and a man walking by with his dog.

¨You need to stop. You can´t possibly walk on this ankle.¨, he said. Great. Unfortunately, I was far from Tinidad de Arre-actually, 12.5 kilometers!

The owner of the hotel offered a room. Someone had cancelled, so it was a huge double room, but he would give it to me for the single price. With breakfast. And dinner, all organic, from his garden. I gasped at the price, but-what was I to do?

The room he gave me was magnificent. I can safely say that it was the nicest room, the nicest view, the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in in my life.

The hotel has been a real labor of love for the owner and his wife, who only opened it four years ago, after many years of work. It is classic for the region-a kind of 3/4 story house, which was divided into sections. The animals lived on the bottom floors, with the familiy in the secons story, and the dovecote above on the third story. My room looked out onto the entire Basque valley, and was actually an original bedroom, with the original hand hewn wood, original tiny shuttered windows, and even original furniture.

The owner gave me a tour of the place, and it was so beautiful. He said he wasn´t in it for the money-he was doing it because he loved his part of Spain, he did it as a labor of love. He said that most people just let these old buildings fall down now, and then move the rubble away to build new ugly apartment buildings. How sad.

Best of all, the hotel had one of the only surviving original ovens in the Navarra region-the only other one is in a monastery-and it was in incredible condition. You could actually walk into it, and the ovens were enormous. The chimney alone was two stories tall.

Everyone else staying at the place were either doing the Camino or they were locals, visiting families as it was First Communion time for kids of that age in the area.

Dinner was a luxurious affair, with my own solitary table, my own bottle of wine(!), a fanatastic soup of salted cod; lamb; and salad of white asparagus(famous in this area of Spain) and a creamy dessert made of sheeps milk that you ate drizzled with honey.

I have to say, it was worth it. My ankle and mind well rested, I blissfully fell asleep, and awoke the next day ready for Trinidad de Arre.

gigi