Well, two months since the trek ended - I finally decided it was time to update the blog. If you're expecting some big cathartic wrap-up, you may be disappointed. I think I am supposed to tell you how my life is different and I've completely changed my focus and daily routine and how I'm fasting six days a week, living in a tent, and giving all my money to a charity that breeds genetically-engineered acorns to feed starving albino squirrels in the suburbs of Little America, Antarctica using renewable energy sources, oil-eating microbes, and sustainable farming methods.
I could tell you that. I'd be lying. The squirrels aren't albino.
You know, in the end, my life is probably not that different. But I feel different. I have found motivation to do many of the things I'd been putting off. Like fixing my 874 cars, and fixing up the house, and yes, getting back to writing regularly. I feel more centered, whatever that means. I'm trying to be less cynical about religion. Beyond that, it's more or less life as usual, and that's OK.
So, this blog, "Mainly On The Plain", is going to metemorep....metamorphai...meteropme...change. I'm still going to post, but it won't be as often, and who knows what it will be about. I will probably try to stay away from partisan politics, but not necessarily my thoughts on how government should work, not get into religious debate, though I won't shy away from matters of morality and faith, and you'll probably hear a lot about cars. In other words, I'm going to try and be as real with you through this part of my journey as I was on my journey through Spain. If you're not up for any of that, take this as your cue to unsubscribe and un-bookmark now.
I bought a new car this week (by the way, it passed smog just fine, Roger). I know that's a shocker to the majority of the Western world. See, I have this list. It's kind of a bucket list. But, where most folks have things on their bucket list they'd like to experience, mine is all cars I'd like to own. You know, like a Porsche 911 (though I probably never will because I don't want to be one of those guys), a freaking huge Cadillac convertible, a diesel anything (well, almost anything. Mercedes 240D's need not apply. I just cannot handle a 59 horsepower car), and...a Mini Cooper S, among other cars. It is a rather long list.
So I bought my Cooper S, from a friend here locally. It is a blast. But sometimes, it's just a little too cute. I almost get the feeling I get when I have to go to Tuesday Morning, Party World, Hobby Lobby or any place that involves potpourri. I have to inspect the man card to make sure it's still there. And you know what it is about the Mini Cooper that makes me feel that way? No, it's not too small. No, it's not too retro. It's supercharged, so plenty of power. My friend upgraded suspension, exhaust, and did some other really cool things.
It's the turn signal and windshield wiper stalks. They look like Easter Eggs. They even have little yellow and red bulbs on the end to let you know when the car alarm is on or you're low on wiper fluid. They're cute. And if there's one thing I struggle with in a car, it's cute. I may have to spend some time cruising the BMW parts catalog to see if I can retrofit something a little more standard from the BMW parts bin. I am not hopeful.
But, boy, is that supercharger cool when it's wound out. That almost makes up for the Easter eggs. Hard boils them, even, if you'll forgive the pun.
Something else on my mind: Where has all the kindness gone? Have you noticed? Is it something in the water, the air, our food? Is it just me, or have we, collectively, as a nation run out of kindness? Let me elaborate...
Last week, I got an unexpected email from someone who explained that they were rather hurt at some of our recent interactions. I will admit that I was rather at a loss for how to respond, so I did my best to repudiate this persons assertions. Things continued to pretty much go south over the next few days until I found myself thinking, "This is ridiculous. We are two grown people. We should be able to sort things out." And so I went over to this persons house, and sort it out we did.
As I reflected on that unfortunate series of events, I couldn't help but wonder how we ended up there. And then it hit me - we, nationally, seem to have lost our ability to be kind and empathize.
For whatever reason, I've been asked a lot recently what I think of the President. I guess folks have decided I must have some sort of political insight. I don't. And frankly, I'm more irritated at Congress than I am the President. Our leaders seem incapable of putting aside their own self-interests or their own perceived moral high grounds to do the job their constituents hired them for - to make the country a better place for future generations. I think this is because they have lost the ability, or desire, or both, to empathize. They don't WANT to understand the other point of view. I am afraid we are doomed to wallow in the doldrums of mediocrity and stagnation until we become less polarized politically.
And I think we can take a lesson from that personally. If we expect our government to behave a certain way, shouldn't we model it? Maybe we'll find that things are not so bad if we remember to be kind and extend grace rather than having to be right all the time? Of course, it's real easy for me to sit in my armchair and expound on this - from the incident above, can you tell I've been having trouble living it? Now, multiply that by, oh 300 million, and perhaps we now have a better sense of where our country is. And how to make it better.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
You Must Bring Us A Shubbery!
Sometimes, accomplishing relatively straightforward tasks can be an undertaking in a different part of the world. Sometimes it can be like a Monty Python Quest. We had one of those today. Mom and I want to bring our walking sticks back to the States. We bought them in St. Jean when we started our trek, and they make a good souvenir, especially since they are now soaked with enough of our own sweat and blood to almost be a relative. But walking sticks do not transport easily, so our quest today was to find a box to put the sticks in to check them as luggage for our return. We also needed to get our pilgrimage certificates, find a bag I could pack my stuff in so I won't have to check luggage, and search for one last pastry to enjoy before we go our separate ways.
The pilgrim credential was the easiest, and we accomplished that right after breakfast. We asked in the pilgrim office what they recommended for shipping our walking sticks. They suggested we go to the post office (sounds logical, yes?) and gave us directions. We then returned to the hotel to get our sticks, and thought we'd ask at the concierge desk, to get their opinion. They also suggested the post office, but said that if that was a no go then they would help us pack it up to check as luggage.
The post office informed us that the sticks were too long to ship and referred us to a private shipping company - on the other side of town. They gave us somewhat vague directions, but after a half-hour of walking and searching, we found the shipping office we were looking for, as well as made note of a cafe for our next cup of coffee, and the Spanish equivalent of a dollar store to look for a carry-on for me.
The shipping office in question informed us that the only shipped to Peninsular Spain and referred us to...UPS right around the corner, which actually turned out to be a Mail Boxes Etc, of all things. Walking in to the MBE was like coming home - it was like walking into a store in the US, and I found myself thinking "Finally, a place I know how things are going to work". It's funny how, even if you are familiar with a country and it's customs, you are constantly reminded by a thousand little unspoken things that you are a stranger in a strange land. It's the exact feeling I get when I go to someplace north of the Mason-Dixon line. :-)
The UPS folks were most helpful. The walking sticks may actually beat me home, and it only cost three times what we paid for the sticks to ship them. Still, we do not have to worry about packing them, hauling them, or dealing with them in customs and airports, so I consider it money well spent. Quest completed!
The cup of coffee and mid-morning snack (that is, almost noon) took place in a cafe called, ironically enough, Alabama. The waiter, however, said that the name was coincidence. I can't imagine why anyone in northern Spain would coincidentally pick that as the name for a cafe if there wasn't some connection, but stranger things have happened. The dollar store adventure was also a success. Eight Euros later, I have a carry on bag, and nothing to check for the return trip. This will hopefully speed my passage through immigration and customs in New York tomorrow and allow me to make my connection.
All in all it has been a perfect, restful last day, with no agenda other than what I've listed above. I find it funny that the last time I was in Santiago it was about 55 degrees and raining...in March. This time, it's 55 and raining...in July. I'm pretty sure this is Al Gore's fault. After all, he practically invented the Internet and discovered global warming, right?
The Quest for the Final Pastry was also successful, and we have retreated to our temporary castle to siesta, pack, and blog. We will sally forth one final time in search of souvenirs for those stateside and for some light nourishment. My wake up call is 0-dark-30 to catch a pre-7am plane, Mom and Dad have the luxury of an afternoon train back to Madrid. By the time they arrive there, I will be landing in New York.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Life Is A Pilgrimage
It was hard to get up and moving this morning, again I think that this is the accumulation of fatigue that one night's rest, no matter how good, can purge from your system. Nonetheless, we were on the road walking before 6:30 in an effort to get the Pilgrim's Mass in Santiago by noon, some 12 miles away. After a brief stop for coffee, a roadside bathroom break, and a couple of pauses to put on rain gear and take off rain gear...twice, we found ourselves at Monte do Gozo, the Mountain of Joy, about 10:30.
Monte do Gozo is named so because it was the point at which medieval pilgrims got their first glimpse of Santiago and it's cathedral. For this modern-day pilgrim, it was a bit of a disappointment. There are a bunch of cedar trees blocking the view and a herd of people decked out in ancient Aztec Indian costumes (complete with giant headdresses) were forming up to march in to the city, playing guitars and blowing what sounded like hunting horns and burning copious amounts of incense. We did not want to have to fight that ruckus all the way in, so after a very short stop to give our feet a breather, we took off for the final three miles in to the cathedral.
Those last three miles fairly flew, though we did have to battle the marching Aztecs, a herd of 6-year old boys out for a Sunday morning stroll, presumedly with their families, and even more rain. I think Mom was bound and determined that we would be at the Cathedral by noon. We were there by 11:30, which makes think it must not quite be three miles.
Arriving was a bit anticlimactic. The Cathedral, not surprisingly, faces a giant square, and I had imagined it would be quite cathartic to enter the square and have the cathedral facing you, larger than life. But, you don't enter the square that way. You enter by the side of the cathedral, and in fact, we went directly into the Pilgrim's Door of the cathedral to try and get a seat for mass. Our seats ended up being on the steps into the nave, along with 1,500 other people. Mass was...mass, with a nice Italian singing group, a nun with a beautiful singing voice...and those blasted Aztecs, who were pilgrims who had come from Mexico, or something. We were were hoping to see the giant censer, called a botafumeiro, swung to delouse the pilgrims in medieval times, but they did not trot it out for this service. Once they stated serving communion we snuck out. We figured that watching two priests try to serve community ion to a thousand people would be about as meaningful as sitting through the name calling at a very large graduation. By the way, do you know how hard it is to sneak out of a church service with a 30-lb. backpack, hat, and walking stick? Andy, I will not be trying this at Conejo next Sunday, though if you do have need of an Aztec processional, I've got that covered.
I did appreciate that in the homily, the priest told the pilgrims that they had not reached the end of the Camino, that all of our lives are a pilgrimage. A bit cliche perhaps, but very, very true.
We checked in to our hotel, which is the medieval pilgrim hostel adjoining the cathedral, and is the oldest hotel in the world still in use for it's original purpose. It's also a 5-star Parador, which was of much greater interest to me at this point. I took quite possibly the most wonderful shower of my life, and we treated ourselves to a nice lunch in the hotel restaurant. I had scallops for my first course, and they were served on the half-shell, something I had never experienced. They were also served with something that looked like it might have had antennae (sea slug?), but I was too tired to care, so I violated Brian's Rules of Food #2 and ate it anyway. It was quite appropriate, since the symbol of the Camino de Santiago is the scallop shell. I then allowed myself a 2-hour siesta, a rare luxury that may make it difficult to sleep tonight.
I am still processing what all this means, what I wanted to share some initial reflections on the completion of my journey:
1) I am different. I don't exactly know how, perhaps in a number of different ways that won't be apparent for some time. I feel that my faith in God and fellow man has been renewed and refreshed.
2) I will miss the lifestyle of the Camino: wake, walk, eat, rest, relax, meet and talk with strangers, repeat.
3) I am looking forward to re-engaging my "normal life" with a new appreciation for my blessings, my obligations, my strengths and my weaknesses as a person.
4) I hope to be a "better" person, however that manifests.
I also have some initial thoughts on what I would do on the Camino a second time, if there were to be one:
1) Pack less: three changes of clothes, no sleeping sack or pillow, fewer toiletries, and less electronic crap. I would bring an extra pair of socks, and a long-sleeve something.
2) Do not try to cover more than fifteen miles a day consistently. At an average speed of 2.5 mph, this is 6 hours of walking. If that doesn't sound very fast, remember that includes stops, there is ALWAYS terrain to deal with, and you're carrying a pack. Any more, and you cut short time to recuperate for the next day, nor do you focus on much of anything except walking. This is not the point of Camino.
3) Weather and time are your enemies, not distance. See #2 above - if you walk more than six hours you begin to get in to the hot part of the day, and the amount of time spent on your feet is far more fatiguing than the distance you walk.
4) ideally, you should rest a day in seven, or at least one in ten. Having an extra day to not walk makes an enormous difference to body and soul.
5) Reservations along the way take the stress off "where will I sleep tonight" and make the whole experience much more enjoyable. Unless you want to be constantly worried about guarding your stuff, do not plan to stay in albergues. Plus, some of the best experiences we've had were getting to know the owners of the pensiones, Casa rurales, and small private hotels.
I think I will leave off there for now, and process some more. I have included pictures of today's walk, and Santiago for you. I can't tell you how much it means that you've followed me on this part of my life's pilgrimage, and I hope that one day you experience a similar journey of body and mind and spirit.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Santiago or Seattle?
The closer we get to Santiago, the more difficult the walking becomes for me, and I think for my parents as well. The Camino is much more crowded, both with foot and bicycle traffic. This means you must me constantly alert, and with so many people on the trail it also means that people are generally not as kind and friendly. The weather does not help. We are back to low clouds and rain. This is good for walking, but for a child of the south and the sun like me, not so good for the soul.
On our trek today, we met an old women out for her (I presume) daily walk around the little town we were in. She asked where we were going today, and where we had come from. She told us of her own pilgrimage experience, and prayed that Santiago would grant our wishes. We also asked that God would bless her. To me, these snippets of conversations and brief glimpses into the lives of strangers are priceless and irreplaceable and truly represent the spirit of what we are about on this journey.
I believe the trip into town tomorrow will be difficult: we must skirt an airport and the outskirts of a large city, and the closer to the historic city we get, the more crowded it will be, particularly as many pilgrims will be trying to get to the Cathedral in time for the special Pilgrim's Mass on a Sunday. We are not set on making it for the Mass at noon; we will be content to arrive whole and hale.
Nearing the end of our journey has us contemplative. I am not sure how I will feel when I enter the Cathedral square tomorrow, but I know that I will feel that I have accomplished something, having prepared for the better part of a year and walked 350 miles to "arrive". I am guessing that the arrival will be somewhat anti-climactic, except for my feet, as I have learned so much, met so many good people, and experienced so many unique things along the way - and that was the point.
So, until I remove my Pilgrim's scallop shell in Santiago tomorrow, I'll leave you with a couple of pictures. The first is of a pilgrim who is buried where he died on the Camino, less than a day away from his destination, and the second, a bit less heavy, of a Lamborghini tractor. It's probably the only Lamborghini I can ever hope to afford.
Friday, July 15, 2011
25 Miles To Go
After a really nice lunch, we poked around the town and took the prerequisite siesta. This afternoon we have relaxed, and are go to the grocery store shortly to stock up on supplies and buy some things to eat for dinner.
One thing I have noticed now that we are getting closer to Santiago and to our goal is that people, both pilgrims, and the folks we interact with along the way, are less friendly toward pilgrims and much more business-like. I will admit that this makes me quite sad, because one of the things I enjoyed the most about earlier stages of our journey was how friendly and willing to interact our fellow travelers and hosts were.
I think this must be a function of the fCt that in order to receive a certificate for having walked the Camino, only the last 100 kilometers are required. Thus, those of us who walk the whole way have more invested? This is dangerous territory, for I don't think we should judge the motives of others. I've had to remind myself of this constantly as I trudge along with my 30-lb pack, having been walking since 6 am while tire rinks with no pack speed by me talking of how they slept in till 9 and have a bus to pick them up around the next bend. It is a good lesson in humility, and in remembering that we are not called on to judge.
The sun came out today, and we rejoiced. Until it got hot and we had to climb yet another hill in the last 30 minutes of our walk. Maybe clouds and rain were not so bad. It is supposed to be cooler the next two days, with rain tomorrow night. That will see us in to Santiago, and I am thankful that we've on,y had one week of really hot weather.
I have a short connection in JFK on my return flight, and I will have to clear customs, so I am going to try and bring only a carry-on and send my backpack with my folks when they return a couple of weeks later. I have found that I've reached the point of the trip where I am now beginning to get anxious to return home. I am going to try and fight this, and rather make the most of the last two days of walking into Santiago and my trip.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
A Conversation With a New Friend
Cruz was working in her garden that afternoon, and she invited us to have a cup of coffee and she sat down and talked to us about her work and opening the pension and the town and how things are in Spain. It was a delightful conversation, and when Cruz mentioned that she wanted to learn English, we told her that she would need to come to Southern California to learn it. She has never travelled. She also mentioned that the house where they were handing out coffee is owned by an evangelistic group, some of whom stay in the pension. She mentioned the leader of the group had given her a book he had written so she showed it to us. It turns out the gentleman in question is the European Director of Campus Crusade for Christ, based out of Barcelona.
The conversation with Cruz, my other experiences yesterday as we walked, and Andy Wall's comment has got me thinking about hospitality. I used to be pretty good at that sort of thing, but in the last several years I have gotten out of the habit. I am going to do something about that when I get back to the States. It doesn't matter that I don't think my house is nice enough, or clean enough, or that my cooking is not good enough. What's important is the act.
The news here is all about the problems in the EU economies and the potential downgrade of the US credit rating. I don't see how the powers that be in Brussels can even contemplate Letting the Euro blow apart, but at some point, France and Germany are going to run out of money (and patience) for dealing with the rest of the EU. I am not sure what to think about the US situation, having been out of the loop for at least a month now, but there is no doubt that our government needs to rectify the situation immediately. A potential downgrade of the US credit rating goes against everything I've been taught (am am teaching) about finance for the last 15 years, and will cause a lot of textbooks to be rewritten, to say the least.
The walk today was long - almost 14 miles. The weather was better, and we will go explore the town of Melide before too much longer. We have three more days and must under 30 miles of walking, and thus, I believe our mindset has shifted from data-gathering to processing and trying to take stock of our journey. We ate physically weary with the accumulated fatigue of walking the better part of 500 miles, but we much to thankful for and much to contemplate.
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