Ruta de la Plata Pilgrimage 2003
Today is the feast day of St Teresa of Jesus ... also known as St Teresa of Avila. Again it seems fitting that I should share some of my encounters with St Teresa.
While I use the word 'encounter' of course, I am not suggesting a 'physical' encounter ... St Teresa lived in the 16th century. We can never know, yet I choose to believe St Teresa, like many other people who have long been deceased have a direct influence in my life.
St Teresa crossed my path about 10 years ago without an intermediary ...i.e. she was not introduced to me by another person ... like St Theresa of the Child Jesus, St Augustine, St Bernadette etc.
The initial 'encounter' occurred before I was even aware of her existence ... I was in Assisi, during my first trip to Europe and I felt compelled to buy a 2 volume set of books titled "St Teresa of Jesus". At the time I believed I was buying books about the life of this saint Rebecca had mentioned to me in the previous few days ... St Therese of Lisieux.
I read the first 60-70 pages of one of the books on a train between Riecka Croatia and Paris, an autobiography of her life. At the time I did not find the book particularly interesting and before we arrived in Paris I had given the book to Rebecca. The second volume I would read several months later while staying at the Maple Inn in Guelph. It was in Guelph that I learned the difference between St Teresa and St Therese ... besides the difference spelling between the Spanish spelling and French spelling.
I found St Teresa's writings titled "Interior Castles" profoundly interesting and inspirational. I learned since that this particular writing of hers is considered a 'classic' in many 'literary' and 'spiritual' circles ... and by some, one of the best writings on mysticism. This achievement is especially significant since she was uneducated.
St Teresa is also perhaps best known for her 'leadership' in the reformation of the 'Carmelite Order' ... both 'monks' and 'nuns'. The reformed order came to be known as Discalced Carmelites. A few days after completing this pilgrimage, while recuperating in Segovia where St John of the Cross spent his final years I found myself to walk around bare foot … my new shoes were too tight for my sore feet. In Guelph, several months later, a priest mentioned during his homily discalced means going bare foot. Hmmm St John of the Cross was instrumental in helping St Teresa reform the Carmelite movement.
The 'Carmel' portion of the word 'Carmelite' of course refers to Mount Carmel in Israel. The Carmelite Order has always taken Elijah as their spiritual father/director. Perhaps my trips to Mount Carmel in Israel and my experiences there are related to the role St Teresa has played in my life.
While walking the Ruta de la Plata in Spain I found myself , unintentionally, in the basilica housing St Teresa's Sepulchre. This post attempts to describe how I got there.
I arrived in Seville Spain via Madrid near the end of June with the intention to walk yet another 'Camino'. True to my nature, I arrived with no knowledge of this particular Camino. In an arrogant frame of mind, with more than 2,000 kilometres of 'Camino' already under my belt, I considered myself a veteran pilgrim. I was in for a few very big surprises!
My first thought after stepping off the bus in Seville was to head for the tourist office where I could expect to get all the information required for the Camino 'Ruta de la Plata'. Finding the tourist office seemed effortless; a young friendly man greeted me at the counter.
The young man knew nothing about the Camino ... he polled his colleagues, still nothing ... yikes! He suggested I come back in an hour or so ... by which time the manager would be back in the office and perhaps the manager would know something about the Camino.
I strolled the streets of Seville for the next hour or so ... half asleep from my trip ... once again asking myself ... what am I doing here? .... Why didn't I do some research while in Canada ... same old story!
On returning to the tourist office, I was greeted with a smile from the same young man ... a good omen! Since my original visit he had learned of a local organization with information concerning the Camino. The office is only a few blocks away ... and someone would be waiting for me ... wow! ... How one's situation can change in such a short time.
I found the local office and met a kind and friendly gentleman who did not speak English yet was I was able to learn what I needed to know to get started. This gentleman had walked the 'Ruta de la Plata' ... solo ... a few years earlier.
He asked me a few questions I remember well:
”Bruce, are you planning to walk alone? ... during the summer?”
My 'yes' replies seemed to surprise him ... he responded ... "it's dangerous". The route is not well marked and for people who have no knowledge of the area and can’t speak Spanish risk getting lost in the wilderness … no one will come along to help because there are very few pilgrims on this Camino. He went on to explain that their organization closes for the summer and recommends that people do not attempt the Camino in June July or August ... the weather is much too hot!.
At the time, I had no comprehension of his concerns ... my arrogance was in control ... thinking to myself ... I have already walked about 2,000 kilometres of Camino ... and much of it was through what I considered very hot weather.
I have learned since that the Seville area is often referred to as the 'frying pan' of Europe ... the hottest place on the continent. I would learn what it means to walk ... carrying my back pack ... in 40+ degree heat ... long, long isolated stretches without fresh water ...
If this wasn't enough ... much of the geography of the Camino experienced record breaking 'heat waves' in the summer of 2003 ... 100 year old records were being broken ... deaths from the heat wave were on the news almost daily... 1,000's in Paris alone.
I experienced first hand the effects of dehydration and hallucination caused by too much exposure to the very hot sun. In the weeks following my completion of the Camino ... about 1,100 kilometres ... I often felt that I should not have survived ... I would say to some friends ... I have done my 40 days in the desert ... the 'heat wave' ended a few days after I returned to Santiago from Fisterre.
I spent the night at a youth hostel in Seville ... learned from my roommate, a tourist, that Christopher Columbus is supposed to be buried in the Cathedral in Seville. I have often drawn parallels between the underlying motivations of my 'pilgrimage' of the past ten years and the motivations we are told were held by Christopher Columbus ... that Columbus was in search of a route to a 'New World' ... me too!! Is starting in Seville a positive omen???
The next morning I started my 'Camino' ... couldn't find my way out of Seville. After walking several kilometres, which turned out to be around in a large circle, I recognized the place I had passed earlier in the morning ... eventually I found the correct way out of the city. The gentleman’s comments at the association’s office yesterday would prove true before I even got out of Seville … definitely not a good omen!
Walked right by the Refugio suggested for the first night ... I was looking for it ... couldn't find it ... and finally learned that I had walked 2-3 kilometres beyond it ... decided to sleep in a farmers field ... not much sleep!
On the third day my blisters were so bad and my knee hurt so much I couldn't continue ... thought I might have to head back home ... not a great start! Rested for a day ... the knee felt better ... onward bound!
Now let’s move on to describe my encounter with St Teresa of Avila.
I need to look at my book for the names of some of the towns etc..
I was heading into ... concerned about the 'step' that lay in front of me. This particular step was the longest one of the Camino ... 50 kilometres if walked as suggested ... in one day ... with a 38 kilometre stretch without water or civilization.
Needless to say, with the 20 days or so of walking behind me ... I was intimidated ... didn't have any intention of walking the 50 kilometres in one day. The village of ... was about 13 kilometres away ... figured I would walk there, have my coffee and perhaps some breakfast.
Arrived ... very friendly and warm reception ... the lady brought me a huge coffee ... and a couple orders of toast and jam ... seemed she knew how hungry I was ... and while I didn't know what was ahead of me ... she obviously did.
Before I finished breakfast she came up to my table and asked me if I would be staying for the night ... I had no idea she had rooms available. She was genuine ... not pushy ... I went with her to see the rooms ... 5 star for a pilgrim! After a few seconds of reflection, I decided to stay ... perhaps my cowardice was showing through ... I really didn't want to think of the 38 kilometre walk without water ... in 40+ degree heat ... and no virtually no shade along the way.
Still early, had lots of time with nothing to do ... walked around the village ... discovered I only had about 20 euros in my pocket ... no bank machines in this village ... and certainly no bank machine for the next 38 kilometres ... yikes!! I wasn't sure the 20 euros would cover the cost of my supper, my room, my breakfast the next morning and my grub for the next day ... Oh Oh!!
Decide I better go to the closest village with a bank machine ... attempted hitch hiking ... no luck ... took a taxi ... to ..... There is nothing like the 'thrill' of the sound of the bank machine dispensing cash for people in strange countries with no money!!
While in ... I saw signs indicating the direction to Avila. My 'inner being' was aroused and excited. I had been thinking of a road trip to Portugal off and on during the past several days ... at this point in the Camino Portugal is quite close ... and Fatima. Now seeing 'Avila' ... my feelings went to visiting Avila and St Teresa of Avila ... this excitement detracted me from the anxiety of the expensive taxi and the long walk ahead of me.
Back to my room ... on arrival I learned that I had company ... another pilgrim ... quite comforting to know I would not be attempting the 38 kilometre stretch alone. My pilgrim friend turned out to be both deaf and mute ... and I thought I was courageous ... yikes ... I know nothing of courage. Here was this young man who could neither hear nor speak walking 'solo' in this wilderness!! … now that’s courage.
We ate supper together ... the nice lady served a pasta dish ... she said it would give us the energy we needed for the walk ahead of us ... she insisted that we take the leftovers with us for the next day ... my pilgrim friend agreed. This is another example of two angels on my journey. The lady knew what I did not … the challenge involved in walking the next 38 kilometres. She provided the nutrition I would need to carry me through the walk. The young man would provide companionship and as it turned out a lot of direction.
My pilgrim friend and I walked the 38 kilometres together ... without getting lost ... until the last couple of kilometres ... we both knew we were lost ... yet we kept going ... we come out to a paved road and we disagreed about which direction to head ... he went to the right and I sat on the road waiting for a car to come along to confirm that heading left was the correct direction.
Again I was exhausted and so thirsty ... I had drank the last of my water several kilometres back ... a car came along within a few minutes ... stopped ... and confirmed that the village was a few hundred metres to the left. The challenge now was how to inform my pilgrim friend ... he was still within sight ... but shouting would not work ... he can't hear anything
I tried to explain in my limited Spanish and my improving international body language that the pilgrim up ahead was deaf and mute ... and heading in the wrong direction ... it worked.
We spent the evening together ... slept in the same room ... and when I woke up the next morning my pilgrim friend was gone ... I never saw him again. I am convinced he was sent to help me get through this most difficult part of the Camino.
I would learn several weeks later that another pilgrim friend who I had met on the third day of my walk ... and did not see again for about a month ... Hans I think ... from Germany. Hans was walking with a GPS that had been programmed with data by someone who had walked the Camino before. Hans shared with me that despite having the GPS he had gotten hopelessly lost on this 38 kilometre stretch ... walked back and took a bus to the next point ... When he shared his experience my previous feelings about my deaf and mute pilgrim friend that escorted me through this particular stretch seemed even more convincing ... I had been sent an angel to guide me.
It’s also worth noting that the only time I was hopelessly lost on this Camino was the day I walked with Hans … and his GPS. Seems the grace of God is much more helpful than the tools and technology of man!
Back to my inner voice suggesting I try to find my way to Avila even though it’s not part of the Camino. As I mentioned I saw the road signs for Avila in the village yesterday but still had no idea how far it was or how to get there. I would leave those details to St Teresa … she would have to guide me … and that she did!
A day or so later I arrived in Fuente Roble, an attractive Spanish village, found the Refugio and went to bed … exhausted. I knew today was the Feast Day of Our Lady of Carmel and wanted to attend mass. Figured there would certainly be a mass in this village. When I woke up from my siesta I went to make some enquires … no mass in this town. A bit disappointed I went back to bed.
A short time later, the gentleman who told me there was no mass in this village came up to the loft and suggested I go ask another person who is working on the renovations of the Refugio. I found the man a few minutes later, he was doing some cement work. He told me he would be going to church later and I was welcome to come along. Wow! … another angel … another door opens with no effort on my part.
We separate on arrival at the church … I figure he wants to socialize with some local parishioners so I go and take my seat in the church.
A few minutes later the gentleman would come out of the rectory, he is the priest!!! Holy poop! I had no idea … here I thought he was a construction labourer. Looks can sure be deceiving eh! Don’t judge a book by its cover. The real surprise was yet to come.
The priest talked about St Teresa during his homily … no big deal since today is the Feast of Our Lady of Carmel and St Teresa and St Teresa is considered a pillar of the Carmelite movement. His mention of St Teresa during the homily would prompt me to ask about Avila during the ride back to the Refugio.
To my amazement I learned that Fuente Roble was around the corner from Avila, a short 10-12 kilometre walk. Couldn’t believe this was happening. At supper that evening the same priest provided detailed instructions on how to get there and even gave me the name and location of another gentleman who lives along the route; this gentleman is apparently very knowledgeable on the events of Lourdes and Fatima. He thinks this gentleman will provide lodging if I’m tired. Now I’m really excited … more convinced than ever that St Teresa is as powerful as people say she is.
I’m able to follow his directions OK until attempting to locate the gentleman he suggested I visit. After several twists and turns, including retracing my steps at one point, I arrive at his door. The house seems vacant, a car covered with a tarp in the garage. I knock at the door and an older man answers; he listens to my story in broken French but tells me he can’t help me. I head back to the road, tired and discouraged but determined to keep on to Avila.
As I’m walking along my thoughts dwell on the dilemma that here is a fellow servant of Mary yet he is unwilling to help me. This is such a contrast to all the people that helped me along the way, even without me asking for help. Doubt starts to set in again.
Suddenly a car stops along the road just across from me and the man in the car motions for me to come over. Yup! It’s the man who just told me he couldn’t help me. Did he get my message via telepathy?
I gently refuse his offer but he is now insisting that I get in the car. I think he will drive me on to Avila. Nope … he takes me back to his house. What a kind and generous man … he cooks a wonderful meal, invites me for a swim in his pool … wow!
The next day I walk on to Avila and try to visit the Carmelite Monastery … refused admission … it’s one of those monasteries with no visitors allowed. This experience turned out to be a very memorable one.
Since I wasn’t inspired to write anything during this pilgrimage I won’t bother to write from memory today. Nonetheless there are two or three more incidents worth sharing.
The first incident happened in Segovia. As I mentioned earlier I spent some time walking around bare foot … “discalced?” Also, while wandering around a park in Segovia I felt compelled to climb up a hill and check out a cave that I had noticed. The cave was huge. I walked along inside until it became very dark, with the feeling that I was invited to walk into the ‘darkness’ … deeper into the bowels of the cave.
I lacked the courage to respond to this invitation and started to think about St John of the Cross’s book “The Dark Night of the Soul” This book describes his soul’s journey, through darkness, to union with God. Since I had just refused to walk into the darkness of the cave I had the feeling I my soul wasn’t yet ready for union with God. A bit disappointing.
Later that day, sitting in a café eating my supper I heard the word “Canada” on the television. All cafés in Spain have a television. I turned around to watch the television in an attempt to learn why Canada was mentioned … no luck.
The next morning I saw newspaper headlines with Canada mentioned; the event was the ‘blackout’ in Southern Ontario and the US. Yikes!! I can’t believe it; first my bizarre experience yesterday with the darkness in the cave; now I’m learning about ‘darkness’ back home … What’s the connection? Really scary stuff!
Finally, I’ll share the really scary incident in Santiago Compostella, which happened just after I completed my walk. Worrying about where I might stay, since I was walking into the city from a different direction, I almost walked right into the place I had stayed in 2002. Is this yet another small miracle?
After a delicious coffee I retired to my room for some rest. I am completely exhausted, totally spent and so, so happy to be finished walking.
As I lay on my bed trying to get to sleep my inner voice is trying to get my attention. It’s telling me I have to walk on to Fisterre. I reply … “ No I can’t, my strength is depleted, my body is kaput … please don’t make me walk another 100 kilometres”
Despite my plea the message was clear … my pilgrimage would not end here … I must walk on to Fisterre. Oh no!
After reaching Fisterre I was glad I responded to the message from my inner voice. In Fisterre (Spanish for “end of the world) … got the feeling this meant I would see “the end of the world’, whatever that means, in my lifetime. Yikes! Really scary stuff!
My morning meditations:
Seems to me 'being human' has 3 'dimensions' ... not mutually exclusive yet distinctive
1) First and foremost each of us is a 'unique person' ... at this level of 'being' there is no gendre distinction ... no age distinction ... no cultural distinction etc etc
2) Secondly of us is predominantly male or female with all the attendant characteristics. Many say that each of us has some of the 'nature' of both gendres. The gendre distinction serves only to propogate the species ... no more and no less
3) Finally each of us is rich or poor, black or white, master or servant, Catholic or Jewish, Ukranian or Canadian etc etc etc ... the evolution of this 'dimension' of being human has become a 'quagmire of division'
Summary
As long as we spend our 'intellectual currency', ... physical ... emotional ... and spiritual energy and the earth's resources fostering 'division' amongst ourselves ... we are 'doomed' ... there is no where to run or be safe. We now have the weapons and technology to destroy our species. The choice is ours ...
Today is the feast day of St Teresa of Jesus ... also known as St Teresa of Avila. Again it seems fitting that I should share some of my encounters with St Teresa.
While I use the word 'encounter' of course, I am not suggesting a 'physical' encounter ... St Teresa lived in the 16th century. We can never know, yet I choose to believe St Teresa, like many other people who have long been deceased have a direct influence in my life.
St Teresa crossed my path about 10 years ago without an intermediary ...i.e. she was not introduced to me by another person ... like St Theresa of the Child Jesus, St Augustine, St Bernadette etc.
The initial 'encounter' occurred before I was even aware of her existence ... I was in Assisi, during my first trip to Europe and I felt compelled to buy a 2 volume set of books titled "St Teresa of Jesus". At the time I believed I was buying books about the life of this saint Rebecca had mentioned to me in the previous few days ... St Therese of Lisieux.
I read the first 60-70 pages of one of the books on a train between Riecka Croatia and Paris, an autobiography of her life. At the time I did not find the book particularly interesting and before we arrived in Paris I had given the book to Rebecca. The second volume I would read several months later while staying at the Maple Inn in Guelph. It was in Guelph that I learned the difference between St Teresa and St Therese ... besides the difference spelling between the Spanish spelling and French spelling.
I found St Teresa's writings titled "Interior Castles" profoundly interesting and inspirational. I learned since that this particular writing of hers is considered a 'classic' in many 'literary' and 'spiritual' circles ... and by some, one of the best writings on mysticism. This achievement is especially significant since she was uneducated.
St Teresa is also perhaps best known for her 'leadership' in the reformation of the 'Carmelite Order' ... both 'monks' and 'nuns'. The reformed order came to be known as Discalced Carmelites. A few days after completing this pilgrimage, while recuperating in Segovia where St John of the Cross spent his final years I found myself to walk around bare foot … my new shoes were too tight for my sore feet. In Guelph, several months later, a priest mentioned during his homily discalced means going bare foot. Hmmm St John of the Cross was instrumental in helping St Teresa reform the Carmelite movement.
The 'Carmel' portion of the word 'Carmelite' of course refers to Mount Carmel in Israel. The Carmelite Order has always taken Elijah as their spiritual father/director. Perhaps my trips to Mount Carmel in Israel and my experiences there are related to the role St Teresa has played in my life.
While walking the Ruta de la Plata in Spain I found myself , unintentionally, in the basilica housing St Teresa's Sepulchre. This post attempts to describe how I got there.
I arrived in Seville Spain via Madrid near the end of June with the intention to walk yet another 'Camino'. True to my nature, I arrived with no knowledge of this particular Camino. In an arrogant frame of mind, with more than 2,000 kilometres of 'Camino' already under my belt, I considered myself a veteran pilgrim. I was in for a few very big surprises!
My first thought after stepping off the bus in Seville was to head for the tourist office where I could expect to get all the information required for the Camino 'Ruta de la Plata'. Finding the tourist office seemed effortless; a young friendly man greeted me at the counter.
The young man knew nothing about the Camino ... he polled his colleagues, still nothing ... yikes! He suggested I come back in an hour or so ... by which time the manager would be back in the office and perhaps the manager would know something about the Camino.
I strolled the streets of Seville for the next hour or so ... half asleep from my trip ... once again asking myself ... what am I doing here? .... Why didn't I do some research while in Canada ... same old story!
On returning to the tourist office, I was greeted with a smile from the same young man ... a good omen! Since my original visit he had learned of a local organization with information concerning the Camino. The office is only a few blocks away ... and someone would be waiting for me ... wow! ... How one's situation can change in such a short time.
I found the local office and met a kind and friendly gentleman who did not speak English yet was I was able to learn what I needed to know to get started. This gentleman had walked the 'Ruta de la Plata' ... solo ... a few years earlier.
He asked me a few questions I remember well:
”Bruce, are you planning to walk alone? ... during the summer?”
My 'yes' replies seemed to surprise him ... he responded ... "it's dangerous". The route is not well marked and for people who have no knowledge of the area and can’t speak Spanish risk getting lost in the wilderness … no one will come along to help because there are very few pilgrims on this Camino. He went on to explain that their organization closes for the summer and recommends that people do not attempt the Camino in June July or August ... the weather is much too hot!.
At the time, I had no comprehension of his concerns ... my arrogance was in control ... thinking to myself ... I have already walked about 2,000 kilometres of Camino ... and much of it was through what I considered very hot weather.
I have learned since that the Seville area is often referred to as the 'frying pan' of Europe ... the hottest place on the continent. I would learn what it means to walk ... carrying my back pack ... in 40+ degree heat ... long, long isolated stretches without fresh water ...
If this wasn't enough ... much of the geography of the Camino experienced record breaking 'heat waves' in the summer of 2003 ... 100 year old records were being broken ... deaths from the heat wave were on the news almost daily... 1,000's in Paris alone.
I experienced first hand the effects of dehydration and hallucination caused by too much exposure to the very hot sun. In the weeks following my completion of the Camino ... about 1,100 kilometres ... I often felt that I should not have survived ... I would say to some friends ... I have done my 40 days in the desert ... the 'heat wave' ended a few days after I returned to Santiago from Fisterre.
I spent the night at a youth hostel in Seville ... learned from my roommate, a tourist, that Christopher Columbus is supposed to be buried in the Cathedral in Seville. I have often drawn parallels between the underlying motivations of my 'pilgrimage' of the past ten years and the motivations we are told were held by Christopher Columbus ... that Columbus was in search of a route to a 'New World' ... me too!! Is starting in Seville a positive omen???
The next morning I started my 'Camino' ... couldn't find my way out of Seville. After walking several kilometres, which turned out to be around in a large circle, I recognized the place I had passed earlier in the morning ... eventually I found the correct way out of the city. The gentleman’s comments at the association’s office yesterday would prove true before I even got out of Seville … definitely not a good omen!
Walked right by the Refugio suggested for the first night ... I was looking for it ... couldn't find it ... and finally learned that I had walked 2-3 kilometres beyond it ... decided to sleep in a farmers field ... not much sleep!
On the third day my blisters were so bad and my knee hurt so much I couldn't continue ... thought I might have to head back home ... not a great start! Rested for a day ... the knee felt better ... onward bound!
Now let’s move on to describe my encounter with St Teresa of Avila.
I need to look at my book for the names of some of the towns etc..
I was heading into ... concerned about the 'step' that lay in front of me. This particular step was the longest one of the Camino ... 50 kilometres if walked as suggested ... in one day ... with a 38 kilometre stretch without water or civilization.
Needless to say, with the 20 days or so of walking behind me ... I was intimidated ... didn't have any intention of walking the 50 kilometres in one day. The village of ... was about 13 kilometres away ... figured I would walk there, have my coffee and perhaps some breakfast.
Arrived ... very friendly and warm reception ... the lady brought me a huge coffee ... and a couple orders of toast and jam ... seemed she knew how hungry I was ... and while I didn't know what was ahead of me ... she obviously did.
Before I finished breakfast she came up to my table and asked me if I would be staying for the night ... I had no idea she had rooms available. She was genuine ... not pushy ... I went with her to see the rooms ... 5 star for a pilgrim! After a few seconds of reflection, I decided to stay ... perhaps my cowardice was showing through ... I really didn't want to think of the 38 kilometre walk without water ... in 40+ degree heat ... and no virtually no shade along the way.
Still early, had lots of time with nothing to do ... walked around the village ... discovered I only had about 20 euros in my pocket ... no bank machines in this village ... and certainly no bank machine for the next 38 kilometres ... yikes!! I wasn't sure the 20 euros would cover the cost of my supper, my room, my breakfast the next morning and my grub for the next day ... Oh Oh!!
Decide I better go to the closest village with a bank machine ... attempted hitch hiking ... no luck ... took a taxi ... to ..... There is nothing like the 'thrill' of the sound of the bank machine dispensing cash for people in strange countries with no money!!
While in ... I saw signs indicating the direction to Avila. My 'inner being' was aroused and excited. I had been thinking of a road trip to Portugal off and on during the past several days ... at this point in the Camino Portugal is quite close ... and Fatima. Now seeing 'Avila' ... my feelings went to visiting Avila and St Teresa of Avila ... this excitement detracted me from the anxiety of the expensive taxi and the long walk ahead of me.
Back to my room ... on arrival I learned that I had company ... another pilgrim ... quite comforting to know I would not be attempting the 38 kilometre stretch alone. My pilgrim friend turned out to be both deaf and mute ... and I thought I was courageous ... yikes ... I know nothing of courage. Here was this young man who could neither hear nor speak walking 'solo' in this wilderness!! … now that’s courage.
We ate supper together ... the nice lady served a pasta dish ... she said it would give us the energy we needed for the walk ahead of us ... she insisted that we take the leftovers with us for the next day ... my pilgrim friend agreed. This is another example of two angels on my journey. The lady knew what I did not … the challenge involved in walking the next 38 kilometres. She provided the nutrition I would need to carry me through the walk. The young man would provide companionship and as it turned out a lot of direction.
My pilgrim friend and I walked the 38 kilometres together ... without getting lost ... until the last couple of kilometres ... we both knew we were lost ... yet we kept going ... we come out to a paved road and we disagreed about which direction to head ... he went to the right and I sat on the road waiting for a car to come along to confirm that heading left was the correct direction.
Again I was exhausted and so thirsty ... I had drank the last of my water several kilometres back ... a car came along within a few minutes ... stopped ... and confirmed that the village was a few hundred metres to the left. The challenge now was how to inform my pilgrim friend ... he was still within sight ... but shouting would not work ... he can't hear anything
I tried to explain in my limited Spanish and my improving international body language that the pilgrim up ahead was deaf and mute ... and heading in the wrong direction ... it worked.
We spent the evening together ... slept in the same room ... and when I woke up the next morning my pilgrim friend was gone ... I never saw him again. I am convinced he was sent to help me get through this most difficult part of the Camino.
I would learn several weeks later that another pilgrim friend who I had met on the third day of my walk ... and did not see again for about a month ... Hans I think ... from Germany. Hans was walking with a GPS that had been programmed with data by someone who had walked the Camino before. Hans shared with me that despite having the GPS he had gotten hopelessly lost on this 38 kilometre stretch ... walked back and took a bus to the next point ... When he shared his experience my previous feelings about my deaf and mute pilgrim friend that escorted me through this particular stretch seemed even more convincing ... I had been sent an angel to guide me.
It’s also worth noting that the only time I was hopelessly lost on this Camino was the day I walked with Hans … and his GPS. Seems the grace of God is much more helpful than the tools and technology of man!
Back to my inner voice suggesting I try to find my way to Avila even though it’s not part of the Camino. As I mentioned I saw the road signs for Avila in the village yesterday but still had no idea how far it was or how to get there. I would leave those details to St Teresa … she would have to guide me … and that she did!
A day or so later I arrived in Fuente Roble, an attractive Spanish village, found the Refugio and went to bed … exhausted. I knew today was the Feast Day of Our Lady of Carmel and wanted to attend mass. Figured there would certainly be a mass in this village. When I woke up from my siesta I went to make some enquires … no mass in this town. A bit disappointed I went back to bed.
A short time later, the gentleman who told me there was no mass in this village came up to the loft and suggested I go ask another person who is working on the renovations of the Refugio. I found the man a few minutes later, he was doing some cement work. He told me he would be going to church later and I was welcome to come along. Wow! … another angel … another door opens with no effort on my part.
We separate on arrival at the church … I figure he wants to socialize with some local parishioners so I go and take my seat in the church.
A few minutes later the gentleman would come out of the rectory, he is the priest!!! Holy poop! I had no idea … here I thought he was a construction labourer. Looks can sure be deceiving eh! Don’t judge a book by its cover. The real surprise was yet to come.
The priest talked about St Teresa during his homily … no big deal since today is the Feast of Our Lady of Carmel and St Teresa and St Teresa is considered a pillar of the Carmelite movement. His mention of St Teresa during the homily would prompt me to ask about Avila during the ride back to the Refugio.
To my amazement I learned that Fuente Roble was around the corner from Avila, a short 10-12 kilometre walk. Couldn’t believe this was happening. At supper that evening the same priest provided detailed instructions on how to get there and even gave me the name and location of another gentleman who lives along the route; this gentleman is apparently very knowledgeable on the events of Lourdes and Fatima. He thinks this gentleman will provide lodging if I’m tired. Now I’m really excited … more convinced than ever that St Teresa is as powerful as people say she is.
I’m able to follow his directions OK until attempting to locate the gentleman he suggested I visit. After several twists and turns, including retracing my steps at one point, I arrive at his door. The house seems vacant, a car covered with a tarp in the garage. I knock at the door and an older man answers; he listens to my story in broken French but tells me he can’t help me. I head back to the road, tired and discouraged but determined to keep on to Avila.
As I’m walking along my thoughts dwell on the dilemma that here is a fellow servant of Mary yet he is unwilling to help me. This is such a contrast to all the people that helped me along the way, even without me asking for help. Doubt starts to set in again.
Suddenly a car stops along the road just across from me and the man in the car motions for me to come over. Yup! It’s the man who just told me he couldn’t help me. Did he get my message via telepathy?
I gently refuse his offer but he is now insisting that I get in the car. I think he will drive me on to Avila. Nope … he takes me back to his house. What a kind and generous man … he cooks a wonderful meal, invites me for a swim in his pool … wow!
The next day I walk on to Avila and try to visit the Carmelite Monastery … refused admission … it’s one of those monasteries with no visitors allowed. This experience turned out to be a very memorable one.
Since I wasn’t inspired to write anything during this pilgrimage I won’t bother to write from memory today. Nonetheless there are two or three more incidents worth sharing.
The first incident happened in Segovia. As I mentioned earlier I spent some time walking around bare foot … “discalced?” Also, while wandering around a park in Segovia I felt compelled to climb up a hill and check out a cave that I had noticed. The cave was huge. I walked along inside until it became very dark, with the feeling that I was invited to walk into the ‘darkness’ … deeper into the bowels of the cave.
I lacked the courage to respond to this invitation and started to think about St John of the Cross’s book “The Dark Night of the Soul” This book describes his soul’s journey, through darkness, to union with God. Since I had just refused to walk into the darkness of the cave I had the feeling I my soul wasn’t yet ready for union with God. A bit disappointing.
Later that day, sitting in a café eating my supper I heard the word “Canada” on the television. All cafés in Spain have a television. I turned around to watch the television in an attempt to learn why Canada was mentioned … no luck.
The next morning I saw newspaper headlines with Canada mentioned; the event was the ‘blackout’ in Southern Ontario and the US. Yikes!! I can’t believe it; first my bizarre experience yesterday with the darkness in the cave; now I’m learning about ‘darkness’ back home … What’s the connection? Really scary stuff!
Finally, I’ll share the really scary incident in Santiago Compostella, which happened just after I completed my walk. Worrying about where I might stay, since I was walking into the city from a different direction, I almost walked right into the place I had stayed in 2002. Is this yet another small miracle?
After a delicious coffee I retired to my room for some rest. I am completely exhausted, totally spent and so, so happy to be finished walking.
As I lay on my bed trying to get to sleep my inner voice is trying to get my attention. It’s telling me I have to walk on to Fisterre. I reply … “ No I can’t, my strength is depleted, my body is kaput … please don’t make me walk another 100 kilometres”
Despite my plea the message was clear … my pilgrimage would not end here … I must walk on to Fisterre. Oh no!
After reaching Fisterre I was glad I responded to the message from my inner voice. In Fisterre (Spanish for “end of the world) … got the feeling this meant I would see “the end of the world’, whatever that means, in my lifetime. Yikes! Really scary stuff!
My morning meditations:
Seems to me 'being human' has 3 'dimensions' ... not mutually exclusive yet distinctive
1) First and foremost each of us is a 'unique person' ... at this level of 'being' there is no gendre distinction ... no age distinction ... no cultural distinction etc etc
2) Secondly of us is predominantly male or female with all the attendant characteristics. Many say that each of us has some of the 'nature' of both gendres. The gendre distinction serves only to propogate the species ... no more and no less
3) Finally each of us is rich or poor, black or white, master or servant, Catholic or Jewish, Ukranian or Canadian etc etc etc ... the evolution of this 'dimension' of being human has become a 'quagmire of division'
Summary
As long as we spend our 'intellectual currency', ... physical ... emotional ... and spiritual energy and the earth's resources fostering 'division' amongst ourselves ... we are 'doomed' ... there is no where to run or be safe. We now have the weapons and technology to destroy our species. The choice is ours ...