Camino day 2

Pobaño – Islares – 24 km

Hello peoples of the world,

Many healthy cats seen today, none of which would submit to pats. Three cats seen licking a homemade casserole of ham and bread (bread not so popular among the diners.) Everything smelled of sea and freshly cut grass, except for the goat shit. We ate white rose petals.

Today I learned that ambient cow noise is not a’mooing, or even bellowing. It’s cowbell. This part of the Spanish countryside, the Northern region of Cantabria, tinkles.

As of today I understand my God a little better. I posed this question to myself a few days ago- so [regarding God] what do I believe?

When I get really tired, it’s easier to slip into a ‘trance’ state. It can be as simple as letting your eyes glaze over- but the trick is what you’re thinking about as you glaze. If I’m doing it right, maybe I’m not thinking about anything. Just feeling content.

This happened to me last August. I went camping with a friend in Colorado. Neither of us were prepared for how cold it would be in the mountains. We drove for hours to arrive at the most perfectly isolated site, last used months ago. Our campite was beautiful in a fierce way, and I’m sure there wasn’t another human being for miles. The sun went down. I began to get a bad feeling about being cold. Even in our socks and thick sweaters, we huddled around our campfire as the sun went down and we kept our minds off the cold by convincing ourselves bears were worse. Then, putting a brave face on it, we went to bed. There was nothing else to do.

We both woke up in the middle of the night so cold we had to move. I was scared. I think my friend was too. We went to his car and turned it on to warm up. A lukewarm trickle of air onto our freezing blue hands, and ten minutes later we had to turn it off for fear we’d drain the car’s battery.

There was nothing else for it. We built a fire, starting with a Cheeze-it box he had in the backseat. At first it seemed dubious we could pull off this survival task. We hadn’t gathered wood (like I said, we didn’t have much experience). So instead, we burned the huge wooden logs some adventurers before us had kindly left as campfire benches. All night we tended that fire.

Obviously we boh survived, but it was a long might. Before dawn I entered into that trancelike state. I stared into the fire and I was happy we were cold. I was content with the fire and the chance to see the sunrise. To build the fire together and sit together, even though we didn’t say much of anything. I called it a state of grace. That’s how I recognized it. It happened again on the Camino today. Staring out into the oceans waves, an impossible amount of water, I began seeing double, then waves moving through each other at the center of my vision. Eventually, they looked like the single wave on the cover of the Arctic Monkeys album AM.

Then I began to understand the sea a little bit more, how the sea likes to have rocks jutting out, so it can rush over the rocks and submerge them, playing with the submerged rock and then going away, and then coming back, like a game, playing. Like a kid, or a dog.

Then we visited a famous church in Asunción and I began to understand God a little better. Think of it like this. You live in a community, and everyone in your community has a tiny house or maybe just a bed in the house or maybe just a shared bed and a cup of soup in the house or maybe you have no house at all. Pretty much nobody has a big house. Then many people in your community gets together to build, maintain, and gather at a huge stone flower on a hill where you can see the ocean. You sing. That’s church.

You need a name for what brings you together, and that’s God. God is what brings us, communities, together.

That’s how my feelings are today. Maybe a bit naive and romantic, but we’ll see. It was a good day. I enjoyed the brief apperance of God and I enjoyed the many languages games we played. I’d like to write about that tomorrow.

I’m not Catholic anymore, but I guess I did come on the Camino to seek God, in my own way.

Camino day 1

Bilbao > Pobaño – 32 km

Hello blog readers –

Today was my first day on the Camino de Santiago, Northern Route, also known as Camino del Norte. I started in Bilbao. We walked 32 kilometers, or just about 20 miles. Which incidentally is the farthest I’ve ever walked, for any reason. And with a 30-pound backpack.

I am now in a small beach town called Pobaño. The main feature of Pobaño is Playa de la Arena, or Beach of the Sand. Sometimes people are straightforward with their observations.

A British woman I met yesterday and a German man I met today are now my good friends. We suffered together. I learned a lot from them.

I learned that if you have to pee too much, a weird amount, your body is probably lacking salt. Without salt, your body can’t absorb the water and just sends it through, regardless of how much water you drink. This is the kind of information I’ll probably reference for the rest of my life.

You may be thinking- wasn’t I working as an au pair in San Sebastián? Well, I was, and how how I came to be here, is a story. For another day.

I also haven’t told my parents that I’m on the Camino, en route to Santiago de Compostela, about 770 kilometers away, on foot. On the phone with my mom and Aunt today, I wanted to, but didn’t. Maybe I couldn’t take the fallout, the questions, the confusion, the disapproval, or the stress. Whew!

I think, when I give someone the truth, it’s a sign of how much I want them in my life. Right now, I’m feeling resentment of my parent’s stressors while I’m abroad. Yet at the same time, my parents are the reason I’m so trusting. In one early memory of mine, I’m swimming erratically, trying to make it across a river, but I’m not a strong swimmer. I get caught in a current and swept towards the rapids downstream. But my dad catches me before I get swept downriver. I know caring people will take care of me. And this is why making friends has always been easy for me, once I got through the most worst of adolesence. As long as I turn the charm on.

I find that getting back to survival things helps me focus. For example, my body is peacefully but persistently begging for sleep. Goodnight

Correction: I wrote earlier it’s about 564 kilometers from Bilbao to Compostela. That’s as the Google crow walks (I mean, the shortest route you can walk according to Google.) Apparently, on the Camino route we’re about 770 kilometers from Santiago de Compostela. A local was very concerned that my calculations were so off. He kindly told me to walk another 200 km.