Day 15
Made my way along the poorly marked mountain path down to Linares, mostly using moonlight and doubting as to whether I was on the right path for at least 30 minutes, except for the “wornness” if the path itself and the general direction I was taking away from Venus am towards the darker part of the twilit sky.
I discovered yesterday that Galicia is “witch country,” which makes sense as both the weather and terrain, gloomy and wooded, as well as the Celtic influenced culture seem to give that vibe. I also noticed certain decore and symbology in the town of el Cebreiro was explicit about the matter.
One Spaniard said to me, “If you ask someone from Galicia if there are witches here, he’ll tell you that he does not believe in witches, but yes they exist.” :).
This section of the camino was also where a young pilgrim woman was murdered in back in 2014, the year after I did the first half.
As I made my way down the steep decline from O Cebreiro I passed through many successive small helmets with cattle and chicken, and it finally dawned on my the similarity of Galician culture and language to Portuguese.
I walked by an older woman scolding and gathering her escaped chickens as she yelled at them, “pare li, dentro!” “Stop right there, get back inside!”
My final stretch into Tricastela had a very “Pac Nwest” feel to it with lots of ferns, wild blackberries, pines, and mossy oaks along the way. There were also these sections of tunnel like worn forest path with earth, rock, bushes, and branches swirling to guide one forward as if into a drain toward the lighted woods at the end thereof.
Approached Tricastela I thought about all the different types of folks I’ve walked past or interacted with on the camino… young & old, hippie and conservative, families and singles, uneducated and erudite, and yet all interested to disrupt and disconnect from the socio-economic guardrails that so easily draw and distract us along a less contemplative and potentially unfruitful path.
I decided to stay in a private Albergue today as I was looking for a bit of comfort, convenience, and internet connectivity compared to prior nights stays. Only, and significant, issue here was that I awoke from my nap itching all along my mid rift to discover bug bites, not sure fleas or bed bugs, but everywhere.
I got up and went to the store to buy powders, sprays, creams, and pills, :), I know, seems extreme, to address the room, my clothes, the itching, and my bodies reaction to the bites (swelling & redness).
As I started treating my bunk area a German lady went into freak out mode regarding the potential presence of bed bugs as she almost leaped from her bunk, grabbed her hair, and bemoaned and wailed with a shuddering voice,
“Oh no, oh no, not bed bugs!” As the object of her concern shifted from the bugs, then to me, and then eventually I the Albergue.
She was effective in making te whole bunk house scatter, which was helpful in letting me finish the treatment of bunk area, and I later went down to verify proper sanitary protocol with Albergue staff, who vehemently denied the existence of bugs of any sort, and showed me documentation to corroborate such. :/ I would later return from lunch to see that the German lady had checked out, and the other Spanish and South African bunk mates seemingly resolved, either with my treatment of the issue or with the reality of bed bugs and similar issues as a potential part of the Camino experience.
Lunch with Miguel & Ignacio went well. I had lentejas as first, lomo as second, and arroz con leche as dessert, and learned more about the Andalusian culture from Miguel, who told me that the true meaning of Guadalajara was “smelly river.” He actually lives in a Spanish city in North Africa, but the name escapes me at the moment.
After finishing my nap, my blog, and my daily routine, I later meandered over to the adjacent restaurant and had dinner with some folks staying at my Albergue, one of which was an empty nester 10-year divorcee from South Africa. Her daughter was already living abroad in France, and her son was about to move to Australia to stay with his father.
Among many things, we talked about the twists and turns that even the best laid plans in life can give us, and I could see the simultaneous sense of uncertainty with her situation as well as resolve to embrace the uncertainly, for example in her choice to step away and do the Camino before moving on to this next chapter of “what is my role and purpose in life now.”
Interwoven in our conversation was this discussion of ultimate reason for being, of God and His identity and nature, and of His revelation both in His World and in His Word. The conversation was good as we were able to follow our lines of reasoning back to presuppositions and identify, at least incipiently, the “faith” upon which we align our orientations, either in submission, or in rebellion, to God.
We also talked about the inspiration and canonicity of scripture, which I see more and more as a critical component in the recognition and understanding of God’s revealed will.
Another day on the camino.