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This morning, I sat under a ceiling of grape vines, drinking a cafe con leche in Castaneda. It was in Castaneda where early pilgrims would deposit the limestone rocks they had brought from Tricastela to be fired for the lime used in the building of the Cathedral at Santiago de Compostela.
From Castaneda, I walked through eucalyptus, chestnut, and pine forests before arriving in Arzua, the last major population center I would reach before arriving in Santiago de Compostela. I found Arzua's layout to be haphazard and untidy. In front of the Fourteenth Century Augustinian Capilla de la Magdalena was the modern parish, which had been dedicated to Saint James and which had an image of Santiago as a moor slayer and pilgrim. Behind the modern parish was the government albergue that I had been looking for.
This morning, I sat under a ceiling of grape vines, drinking a cafe con leche in Castaneda. It was in Castaneda where early pilgrims would deposit the limestone rocks they had brought from Tricastela to be fired for the lime used in the building of the Cathedral at Santiago de Compostela.
From Castaneda, I walked through eucalyptus, chestnut, and pine forests before arriving in Arzua, the last major population center I would reach before arriving in Santiago de Compostela. I found Arzua's layout to be haphazard and untidy. In front of the Fourteenth Century Augustinian Capilla de la Magdalena was the modern parish, which had been dedicated to Saint James and which had an image of Santiago as a moor slayer and pilgrim. Behind the modern parish was the government albergue that I had been looking for.
I arrived at the xunto albergue about 11:00 a.m. and waited in a queue for its opening at 1:00 p.m. I put my backpack in the packs line then sat on a stoop. Knowing from guide books that there were forty possible places at this albergue, Trekkers hoping for beds would count the packs in the line to determine whether they would get a place or whether they would need to walk on.
I sat in the crowd with my eyes closed, listening to Joshua James in my headphones. I did not try to make eye contact with anyone or to chitchat. I knew I should, but it seemed to take more effort than I was capable of mustering. Furthermore, it seemed pointless. For days, people had been giving me the same look which said to me that they thought I was an 'oddity.' Quite frankly, I had become tired of trying and had surrendered to just being "other."
A young Asian man wearing a long-sleeved neon-green running shirt and black Craig Hoppers approached the queue, looking like he felt as miserably awkward as I. He counted and recounted the backpacks before realizing that his was the forty-first. When next I looked for him, I saw that he had taken his lonely other-ness down the road.
An hour or so later, the hospitalera opened the door. I shuffled inside with the group. After paying my five euros for the night's shelter, I went upstairs. I put my boots on the boot rack, went into the dorm, slipped my pillow into its disposable case and spread my paper sheet over my lower-bunk mattress.
I sat in the crowd with my eyes closed, listening to Joshua James in my headphones. I did not try to make eye contact with anyone or to chitchat. I knew I should, but it seemed to take more effort than I was capable of mustering. Furthermore, it seemed pointless. For days, people had been giving me the same look which said to me that they thought I was an 'oddity.' Quite frankly, I had become tired of trying and had surrendered to just being "other."
A young Asian man wearing a long-sleeved neon-green running shirt and black Craig Hoppers approached the queue, looking like he felt as miserably awkward as I. He counted and recounted the backpacks before realizing that his was the forty-first. When next I looked for him, I saw that he had taken his lonely other-ness down the road.
An hour or so later, the hospitalera opened the door. I shuffled inside with the group. After paying my five euros for the night's shelter, I went upstairs. I put my boots on the boot rack, went into the dorm, slipped my pillow into its disposable case and spread my paper sheet over my lower-bunk mattress.
I had read that Arzua was known for its local cheeses and its annual cheese fair, Festo do Queixo, so, after napping and showering (again without a shower curtain), I set out to find a cheese plate and a glass of sangria for dinner and some grapes and oranges to take with me on the next day's hike.
Over dinner, and while wandering the town, I thought about how Saint James' Way was supposed to be a universal path where acceptance smoothed over people's trivial differences, and I wondered why, if that were the case, I felt so foreign. But then I thought about how I felt almost as alien in my own country and how I simply did not know how to be comfortable around others. I thought about how I have always been able to close my eyes and to exist in uncomfortable situations, but how I did not know how to keep my eyes open and to truly live in even comfortable situations. I long to know how to love others. I really do. It just seems to be beyond my ability. It is not because I am a cranky selfish person. It is because I am afraid of others. Unfortunately, on the Camino, I have thus far discovered how easy it is to put in earbuds, to listen to music, and to not connect with others. I believe, therefore, that the remainder of this journey surely will be about learning how to share joy with others and to give a little kindness, a smile, and a helping hand.
Over dinner, and while wandering the town, I thought about how Saint James' Way was supposed to be a universal path where acceptance smoothed over people's trivial differences, and I wondered why, if that were the case, I felt so foreign. But then I thought about how I felt almost as alien in my own country and how I simply did not know how to be comfortable around others. I thought about how I have always been able to close my eyes and to exist in uncomfortable situations, but how I did not know how to keep my eyes open and to truly live in even comfortable situations. I long to know how to love others. I really do. It just seems to be beyond my ability. It is not because I am a cranky selfish person. It is because I am afraid of others. Unfortunately, on the Camino, I have thus far discovered how easy it is to put in earbuds, to listen to music, and to not connect with others. I believe, therefore, that the remainder of this journey surely will be about learning how to share joy with others and to give a little kindness, a smile, and a helping hand.
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