Ordinary Gente

April 14, 2022. Outside it’s dark and the fog is thick. I awoke at an hour that even the cows are asleep out in Monterossa, Spain, around 12 km off of the Camino. Though there is no light and sunrise is still two hours away, I realize that sleep is not returning to me, so I put on warm clothes, shoes and head to the dining room of a phenomenal Casa do Campo, a home originally made in the 1600s. More on the lodgings in a new post. But first, I want to capture our Day 2 on the Camino Francés, from Portomarín to Ligonde.

We started Day 2 having a breakfast of bread, jamón serrano, cheese, juice and coffee. I suggest that anyone who’s traveled or lived in Spain would find this a common enough breakfast. The uncommon aspect for me and Luis is that immediately after eating we head out in the cool weather looking for yellow arrows, attempting to recall online directions, and remembering that technology for us is limited without WiFi or cell phone data.

I have to adjust and readjust the lacing on my boot and these delays, time after time, causes me to inadvertently pause the only technological luxury I have which is an app called Relive. Through the magic of satellite imagery, GPS tracking and my photos on the cell I can make a minute long video of our trek once I get to a bar or lodgings with high speed WiFi. I’m in airplane mode and perplexed as to why Relive works. It somehow records until I inadvertently pause it, only to remember to check it a few hours later. Technology is only as good as the battery in my cell, and my ability to use it properly. (Audible sigh),

Ah, but the Camino on our Day 2 was fine without a perfect video! I made a conscientious effort to dedicate my day to Healing and Health. When alone with my thoughts, step after step after step, I considered the people in my life and beyond that are in need of health and in need of healing. I don’t want to put dear family or friends on blast by calling out their names. Still. I prayed for health of individuals, as well as communities, for example, the health of my extended and immediate family currently undergoing cancer treatments or having recovered from cancer and who have the fear of it returning in the deep recessing of their minds. My cousins’ husbands, Alfred and Oscar, my brother-in-law Ruben, my sister Tina. My dear friend from work, Tiffany. Closest and scariest of all, the love of my life, Luis. I am grateful for his healing from recurrent lung cancer. I form the words in my head as I watch the distant horizon full of mountains blanketed with fields and pastures. I ask for continued health for him and for me, but mostly for this man at my side who’s sojourning with me on the Camino. Other prayers for health and healing include those that are not in imminent health crises who I hope have continued good health including my other sister Diana and her husband Tim, my brother Dio and his wife Stephanie. Even the younger generation, Lorenzo, his wife Arevik, Miguel. I pray for their continued strength and stamina, for a healthy balance of work, family and simple joys. And if course, I pray for health and beautiful development of our granddaughter Luiza.

When it comes to healing, these prayers come in more complex ways, more along the lines of emotional healing or coming to peace with past injuries, injuries I’ve perceived and praying for the forgiveness from those that I have hurt. Just as I was meditating on these thoughts, we approached a huge stone pillar with an interesting cross high on top. On one side of the cross was crucified Jesus and on the other a fascinating representation of the Virgin Mary. At the base were two women we’d seen earlier on Camino, saying a litany of prayers. It wasn’t quite a rosary, but it had that rhythm. Before I knew it I was crying, thinking of the complicated relationship I had with Mom and who I pray for even as she is gone to us in this world. I suddenly knew it was the time and place to leave a little stone I have carried with me from my front yard, the weight not more than a couple of ounces, and yet, weighing down heavily on me for many year. It was time to leave the stone and its burden at the base of this cross outside of Ligonde. It was time to say one more intensional prayer, release the weight and walk with continued intention for healing this injury through an appreciation for her challenges as a single mom.

Then there was the health of the young, fit hiker who had an epileptic attack. We had notice a different man, obviously a peregrino, but sans a backpack waiting on the side of the highway. As we approached so did an ambulance with lights spinning. The hiker quickly showed the paramedics to the man who had had an attack. All of us passing asked what we could do. There wasn’t anything to do but say a prayer (and learn that in Spain you dial 112 for emergencies).

For the healing of all injuries and restored health, I dedicated the day’s 11 miles.

Today on our Camino was much easier than the day before. We went downhill from Portomarín, crossed the Rio Minho and immediately had a major decision. The Camino splits and we decided to go the Complimentary route. It was a good decision as we passed though old oaks while climbing out the valley. Yes, it was a challenge but my stretching in the morning and better posture helped keep my cramping groin in check. I took shorter steps and pulled in my butt, sucked in my stomach and straightened my back. This is a lot to think of while trying to focus on health and healing but my mind alternated among all this. Before you know it, we rejoined those peregrinos a that had taken the other route.

The air was full of the countryside. In other words, we passed many dairies and the odiferous smells as we meandered through hamlets and communities. At one point, a large tanker truck was in front of us, servicing a dairy. It was in fact, extracting the effluence from a dairy farm using an elephant trunk-type hose to suction up the “stuff”. We hung back and let it complete the operation, and watched as the proboscis swung into place on the side of the tanker and then maneuvered expertly through a narrow, narrow lane. But as it went the elephant trunk of the truck managed to drip, drip, drip. Ah, the smell of nature.

Seriously though, the fast open sky was fresh and clean. Such a vast difference from LA air. The morning mist and fog only helped define the mountains and fields.

I’ve been choosing to step on softer grass and pine needles along the side of the gravel trails. One of many lessons is to tread gently and to go at my own pace. RoMA