Day #2 - A day of healing — Debbie Lamb Turner

Insights, Inspirations & Ramblings

To me, the Camino is a snapshot and metaphor for life. It has a beginning, an end, and a journey in between. The Camino journey provides opportunities to experience things with new eyes and it provides lessons to be applied to your life. I’m stunned by the unexpected ‘lessons’ that it gifts if you are open.

I didn’t expect to have the same experience this time in Spain as I did on my last two experiences. I was facilitating a group of ladies, moving their backpacks forward, and preparing their lodging for the night of their arrival. I was not walking daily like they were, so I didn’t expect to be affected in the same way. Boy, was I wrong. I had a lesson that shook me to my core.

On the last day walking day before our short adventure was finished, I arrived into Granon (one of my favorite places ever, by the way). I had hauled the backpacks up the uneven stone steps into the large room where we would all spend the night next to each other on mats on the floor. I had paid the donation for the room and dinner, and gotten a schedule of the events that the albergue offered. There was only one thing left to do – find a bank. Every so often I had to refill my Euros as most places only accepted cash, and today was that day.

I walked across the street from the albergue to a tiny café to ask for directions to the bank. The place was packed with a line of pilgrims extending clear out the door. As I entered, I saw one lone young woman handling things. She was taking orders and ringing up the sales, while another woman was in the room behind cooking and filling the food orders. What could have very easily been chaotic, was not. The young woman, who I later found out was named Irina, was smiling and completely relaxed. There was music playing that the pilgrims were either swaying back and forth to or singing along with. I had to laugh as I entered because the song “Hit the Road, Jack” was playing. How appropriate, I thought.

I inched my way up to the left side of the counter, where Irina would come to drop off the orders and call out, over the music, the person’s name. My plan was to catch her on her next trip over and quickly ask where the bank was. So, I waited.

As she came to drop off an order, she paused to pick up two dirty cups and saucers that were left there by pilgrims. I thought, ‘Now’s my chance’ and quickly blurted out one of the few phrases in Spanish I knew – “Perdon. Donde esta el banco?” (sorry, I don’t know how to put the tilde, the little accent marks over the Spanish words, but you get the gist of it.).

She turned back around, as she had already moved to walk away, sat the cups and saucers down, and purposefully took my left hand and cupped it both of hers. She completely disregarded the long line of hungry pilgrims waiting to be served, and instead paused to look intently into my eyes. Irina then softly said to me, “Buenos dias”. If I could have disappeared, melted into my shoes, whatever, I would have. I felt so embarrassed.

In her kind loving way, she taught me a monumental lesson, ‘Don’t walk in here rudely blurting out your question. It doesn’t matter that I’m busy or that you’re busy. Stop. Look me in the eyes. Greet me first. Then ask.’

Because I was too flustered to muster up any weak form of Spanish, in English I replied, ‘I am so sorry. Buenos dias’. She just smiled, gave my hand a squeeze and replied, ‘Buenos dias’ and proceeded to tell me how to find the bank.

I humbly walked out and headed to the bank hoping I wouldn’t have to see Irina again. I didn’t want her to think, ‘There comes that rude American woman’.

As fate would have it, I DID have to see her again, several times. This was a tiny village and the only place to get anything to eat, and by now I was hungry. So, I checked my pride and walked back in. Of course, she recognized me as I entered. She looked up from her register and gave me a big smile. Over the crowd and from the back of the café, I yelled out to her, ‘Buenos dias’. She greeted me back and we both laughed.

I’ve lovingly thought back several times since then about Irina and the precious lesson she taught me. I realized how many times I rush through life not really noticing the people I pass during my day. The opportunities I miss, and sometimes even avoid, to say hello or give a passing stranger a smile. What am I doing that’s so important? Where am I going that I don’t have five seconds to pause to acknowledge another human being?

I’ve returned home now and yesterday I was hiking our familiar Pinnacle Peak with my husband, Mike. He was ahead and I was going at my own pace as we always do. As I was coming back down, a young man approached me carrying his little boy (maybe a year old) on his backpack. Even though he was still a little way away, I could see this sweet little boy peeking around his daddy’s back waving like crazy at me. I smiled and waved back to him, and we high fived as we passed.

Again, I was reminded what it means to be seen by another person. To be acknowledged and smiled at. I hope I remember that lesson for the rest of my life.

The familiar phrase is, “The Camino provides”. And, yes, it does. But if we’re open, those lessons can also come at home or hiking a mountain by your house.

Today was an easy walking day – only 3 ½ miles – to allow for a chance for the achy muscles and tired bodies to rest.

We landed in a lovely little family owned casa rural, or what we would call a bed and breakfast, and we filled up the place.

Our word for today was ‘Healing’ which lent itself to a bit of an introspective type of day.

But, before that was to be, we had to take care of important business – securing our next meal. We went to the one of the only two places in town to eat (not counting the tiny grocery store). We saved the “fancier” place for dinner. It is operated by the same family who own the place we’re staying at. (In a town of 80, that’s kind of the way it goes). Bar Juan was full of pilgrims, so we took our sandwiches to go, and ate them back at our very own dining room table where we could all sit together. We were a bit surprised when we took the foil off our sandwiches (or bocodillas, as they are called here). They were all made on big baguette type hard rolls and some had just a pile of bacon with nothing else, while others were filled with a different kind of meat. It reminded me of Christmas morning opening up a gift, expecting it to be something good, but not sure what. The only difference was that even after it was opened, many still weren’t sure what it was. But, I heard no complaints as we dug into these unusual, but filling, treats.

A couple ladies treated the group with wine they purchased at the store, which conveniently was located just under our place of lodging for the night. The wine was $5 a bottle and tasted as good or better than any I’d ever had. We all considered moving to Spain for that one reason alone!

After lunch and lively conversation, our rooms were clean and ready for us to move into. There were five sweetly decorated cozy rooms each with their own bathroom, and yes, even hot water! You don’t realize how much you appreciate a warm shower until you’ve had a freezing cold one, like we did last night.

Each room is different, beautifully but simply decorated. The beds are covered with fluffy comforters which apparently called our names, because a few of us took advantage to hop in and take a little nap.

The quietness of the afternoon was a nice break, and women wrote in their journals, listened to music, or spent time in quiet contemplation.

Today I am reminded by the Camino to appreciate. I am grateful for simple things I typically take for granted, like a warm shower and a hot cup of coffee. I also so appreciative for the important and precious moments in life I am witnessing here, like our attentive host’s genuine and loving concern for us, the warm interaction between her and her teenage son, and the kind and supportive conversations between the women in our group at they start to relate on a different level.

Life on the Camino is good. Actually, life is good. Period.

Insights, Inspirations & Ramblings

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