LET US HEAR THE CONCLUSION...

My little Spanish jaunt has “come to pass”, like everything always does.  Here’s a brief debrief, because that’s what you’re supposed to do at the end of journeys, isn’t it?  Helps with remembering things, making sense of them, etc., at least if you’re the one conducting the debrief.  I’ll do it in sections, and I’ll be brief.  Or try to be.

PILGRIMAGE

You all know what a motif is, but do you know what a Jungian archetype is?  Well, let me tell you.  Archetypes are “universal, inherited ideas or patterns of thought and image that reside in the collective unconscious.”  That’s according to Carl Gustav Jung.

The prime example of archetype is Pilgrimage.  We are all on a pilgrimage of one sort or another.  History is a pilgrimage from one place to another place.  Many of the main stories in our culture (in all cultures) are pilgrimage stories:  Homer’s Odyssey, Star Wars, Abraham, Pilgrim’s Progress, etc.  Our songs are about pilgrimage: how about “get the motor running..” , “leaving on a jet plane” and etc. ad infinitum.  The thing is, pilgrimage is so deeply rooted in our psyches that we don’t think of it much, any more than we think of the air we breathe.  But we all respond to the idea of pilgrimage.  It is an archetype; no wonder that millions of people, all over the world, all the time, do pilgrimage.  We have pilgrimage in our bones.

SCENERY

As noted before, the scenery along the Camino is mind boggling.  What I didn’t know at the time is that there are numerous travelogues on utube that show that in great detail.  I’ve seen a few since I got home and they’re good.  So if you’re interested, and my few pictures don’t turn your crank, go on youtube and look at them.  They show exactly what it’s like.

I think everyone reading this will have had the experience of going somewhere you’ve never been before.  It is always mind-blowing; every single thing is new to you; sights, sounds, smells, the whole issue.  For me, it was a month of mind boggling, mind blowing otherworldliness.  I’m sure you know the feeling.

PEOPLE

Even if you’re an introvert, the Camino is a great place to meet people.  And not just meet them; you hear stories, make connections, get an elevated awareness that “other people exist”.  And that’s just people that can speak English.  Imagine if you could converse in German, and Korean, and Dutch…

Beside that, it’s probably true that your average Camino pilgrim is more inclined to engage with you than, say, your average tourist on the Las Vegas strip.  Or somebody walking in downtown New York.  Just a guess.

I mentioned a few encounters in a previous post, and I’ll mention one more at the end of this post.  But take my word:  you meet lots of people, and it is all interesting.

THIS PILGRIM’S PROGRESS

If you read the previous posts, you’ll know that my sojourn had roughly three stages, which could be called surfing the wave (stage 1), falling off the wave (stage 2), and finding a different wave (stage 3).

Stage one lasted about two weeks, and it was pure craziness, fueled by naivete, lack of planning, etc.  So much stuff:  being in an overnight train bunkbed compartment with five other people, not being able to get in the shower after a sweaty day, sleeping in a dorm in sweaty clothes, leaving the next day without breakfast, or, landing in a pretty swank dorm with twenty beds but only four people there, with really good showers and a swimming pool, and on and on I could go.  I said before it was like surfing a wave, and that’s exactly what it was.  A comic parody of Rick Steeves.  Mr Bean goes to Spain.  Living on the edge.  But then it wasn’t.

Stage two lasted about a week.  During that time I was trying (or Gail and I were trying) to get some kind of accommodation schedule happening via two companies in that business. After an initial run of luck, I had absolutely hit a wall in terms of accommodation.  It was a nightly struggle, sometimes successful, sometimes not.  Anyway, neither company worked out, during which time I stayed a couple of days in Burgos and a couple of days in Leon.  Both of these cities are more or less in the middle of the pilgrimage, located on a plateau between various mountains and hills. I was, at times, bored, lonely, mad at myself, and etc, but it rained most of the time and so I wasn’t sorry to miss that.  The bus ride between the two cities was a highlight.

Stage three. The last week.  As soon as I found out that COMPLETO means COMPLETO, I immediately made travel arrangements home ( via a travel agent, of course…do you think I could do that on my phone?), and, having a few days to wait, I rented a car and headed for Santiago.  Good choice.

Life is always better with your own wheels, and this was no different.  Amazing mountain pass roads, a sort of mini-Coquihalla. (did I say that before?).  350 k of eye popping scenery (I did say that before).  Went to great seaside towns south of Santiago, terrific beaches with nobody on them, attended a Pilgrim’s Mass in the Santiago Cathedral (along with maybe a thousand others or so, standing room only), had a terrific room there, and, after a week or so of isolation, had a great chat with a Dutch guy and his wife on one of the beaches.  He was looking for a place to boondock his motor home, so we had lots to talk about.  Turns out his wife had been the Physio person for the Dutch national skating team; They’d been to Sochi Olympics, Calgary Olympics, won gold, and etc.  Great chat.  There was an empty lifeguard station nearby, so he said give me your phone and climb up there, we’ll do some Baywatch pictures.  Made us both laugh.

Such was the third (actually second) wave,  followed by a bullet train to Madrid, a flight on Iberia to Paris, an overnight in some third rate hotel at Charles de Gaulle airport that obviously doubled as a hospital room, all of which was new to me.  And then home on good old Westjet, which was blessedly familiar.

CATHEDRALS

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, those cathedrals are absolutely breathtaking.  How did they engineer stuff like that? How did they get all those stones that high?  How did they make belfries for those heavy bells? And so on.

More than the “how” is the “why”.  What motivated such unbelievable architecture?  Why did it happen at the time in history that it did, and why did it happen where it did?

Well, I’m not an historian, but in talking about this with various people, the answers to the “why” question tend to fall into two categories.  The first category is that it all had to do with monument and empire.  Put crassly, some Spanish guy one-upped the competition (whoever that was), and had to put up a bigger better cathedral to make his point.  Along with a statue of himself on a horse in the town square, of course.   On this understanding, church and state were the same thing, featuring all the things that power always features; corruption, oppression, deceit, and so on.  As usual, the common people suffered for the aggrandizement of the ruling class.

The second category of answer to the “why cathedral” question is simpler.  On this understanding, people built cathedrals because their imaginations were captured by the Big Cathedral, ie the natural creation, and by its Creator.  The high dome of the sky replicated in the high dome of the cathedral.  The acoustics  replicated and amplified natural sounds.  The best of art represented the wonders of creation.  On this understanding, the common people built cathedrals because they were fervently devout.  They did it to the Glory of God, and would have done it with or without state involvement. 

My opinion?  Well, this is planet earth.  Things are always mixed.  I have no doubt that the very best and the very worst of human dynamics were involved in all cathedral builds, in all possible degrees.  I wasn’t there, but I can imagine that cathedral building made people, it broke people, and everywhere in between.  A messy business, just like life.

GRACE

As was often observed in many conversations I had, the Camino is not a race.  It is not a test to prove something, it is not a photo op to impress people.  Or at least it’s not supposed to be.  Rather, it is an opportunity for solitude, a chance to encounter yourself and to encounter the Other under the big blue dome of God’s own cathedral.  Many (but not all) people I encountered were there with that understanding.

And for myself?  Like the cathedral builders, it was a mixed bag.  Some (most) of it was stunning, some of it was disappointing (poor planning, didn’t walk the whole thing), overall I was glad that I got to do it. 

But here’s the thing.  My perceived successes and failures are not the issue, nor are anybody else’s.   If there’s one thing that cathedrals, both natural and man-made, do to you, it’s that they humble you.  They simultaneously humble you—ie put you in your place—and elevate you—re-orient you in proper context.  It’s a paradox, something like dying and being reborn.  And it comes as a gift, what could be most accurately called a “grace.”

I experienced many moments of “serendipity” or “luck” or “coincidence” along the way, but in retrospect I would call them all Graces, particularly the one where I was leaning on my poles with a malfunctioning heart (due to my own excesses) and along came a lady who administered some good grace.  You can read about her in a previous post.

Which brings me to my last night in Santiago.  On that evening, I was driving back from the aforementioned beaches, following google maps, waiting for the google map voice to tell me which exit to take for Santiago.  But she never said a word.  Instead, I had to drive another ten or fifteen miles past, take a turnaround, pay yet another toll, and go back.  All told, I lost about 45 minutes.

That made me late for the Pilgrim’s Mass, so instead of going into the cathedral, I walked around it to a courtyard on the other side, and who did I run into there?  Well, it was Mrs. Biggs.  Not Gail Biggs, but Sharon Biggs (no relation), with whom I taught school in a rural hamlet south of Grande Prairie. Penson School in Grovedale, Alberta, to be exact.  I had heard that she was going to be doing some part or other of the Camino, but I had no idea when or where, and beside that, out of 400 thousand or so pilgrims, what are the chances?

Anyway, there she was.  I gave her a big hug, and she introduced me to her two companions.   Then she and I went for dinner.  First time ever for that, in spite of having been colleagues for twelve years.

We had a great conversation, which, of course, I won’t detail here.  I will say, though, that I experienced it as a moment of pure grace.  Some stuff that had haunted me for 20 years got exorcised (as in Pilgrim’s Progress), some retrospectives got processed, some catching up got done.  Just a great time, and how do you run into one of 400 thousand pilgrims, on a night where you’re off schedule, late, etc etc?  I don’t know.  You tell me.  Sharon termed it “a momentous occasion” and it was, at least for me.  I’ll attach a picture.

And that’s my take away from Spain.  Life is a gift.  The Big Natural Order Cathedral is a gift, as are those other unbelievable Spanish ones.  People are gifts, and Grace is the gift that makes sense of it all, that re-orients us all, that frees us from our tortured, ego-driven ways and lets us walk freely on the big Camino under an open sky.  Not that you have to go to Spain for that experience.  I do believe that it’s right in front of all of us, all the time.

PS

This ain’t too brief.  Sorry.

Thanks to Judith for advice given, which I almost foolishly ignored.

Thanks to Ken for information forwarded.

Special thanks to Gail.  That’s always true.

I’ll stick some pics up, even the one I didn’t before.  What the heck…