Thursday, November 28, 2013
Monday, November 18, 2013
November 18th Santa Barbara
Tracy's post-camino retreat house is called 'A Casa do Raposito,' the Little Fox House and it is lovely; a two and and a half story stone house, just across the street from the village church in the old part of Carantona. The peregrinos sleep under the dormers on the top floor. There is a library with internet on the second floor, a comfy living room and small kitchen with dining table on the ground floor. Next door in part of the same structure is a grey donkey, very friendly and fond of carrots. All of this is enjoyed on a "donativo" basis, we pay what we feel is right or can afford.
Tracy cooks, and is available for limitless information about Galicia, the history of the Camino and many other topics. She is a former race car driver, horseback rider, has degrees in history, ecopsychology, clinical psychology and a certificate in hypnosis which she regularly uses in her practice. A fascinating woman.
She is available for hire as a tour guide for northern Galicia and the Costa del Muerto, so called because the Atlantic here is ferocious with huge waves crashing everywhere against the black rocks and a sea floor so uneven that it has caused numerous shipwrecks of the many years that humans have lived and traded here.
She took me and my two Canadian women Camino friends to a very large dolmen, protected with an elaborate glassed-in cover because of the paintings inside; a castro, a prehistoric, stone-age village with only the circular stone house walls remaining in a beautiful pattern, climbing a grassy green hillside; a well-preserved castle, with lacemaking women and weavers hard at work inside and most interesting to me, to the Museo Aleman in Camelle.
In 1962 a German man named Manfred Gnedeger arrived in Camelle wearing a suit. He rented a room in a house and began giving German lessons. Apparently he fell in love with one of his students but she was already betrothed. Broken hearted, he moved out of the house, purchased a piece of the coastline at the Atlantic end of the village, took off his suit and spent the rest of his life in a loin cloth, winter and summer, making exquisite rock sculptures with the beach rocks and cement. ( I took so many pictures there in a drizzle that my IPhone didn't work for 4 days; finally 3 nights of rice treatment brought it back. Whew!).
Some people in the village liked him very much, others wanted to get rid of him. He was accused of molesting a little girl, arrested and thrown in jail, where he was for 6 months. There was no evidence, the girl and her parents denied it so eventually he was released and returned to his small, square concrete hut on the beach and resumed his work.
The second attempt to get rid of him was a plan to build a breakwater right through his sculpture garden. He pleaded and his supporters pleaded, but the breakwater was built. As a protest, he lay his body down on the wet cement top of the structure, in three positions, face up, face down and sideways, so today there are indentations on the top that collect rainwater.
He began painting the breakwater with large and small circles in different colors, and since his death some in the village have refreshed some of these circles.
in 2001 an oil tanker called the Prestige broke up off the Galician coast and Camelle was one of the worst affected towns. Manfred was heartbroken, and the villagers who often took him fresh bread noticed that the bread was not taken into the house, inquired and found him dead in his house. He apparently had a heart condition that required regular medication and he just stopped taking it.
After his death, there was an effort to preserve his legacy, and Galicia named the site Museo de Aleman. He had left 120,000 euros to the state, but that money has completely disappeared and his house is in extreme disrepair but Tracy and an American academic who has walked the Camino several times have installed an exhibit of his belongings and photographs of the sculpture garden as it once was in the Camelle community center. (see photos)
When I returned to Santiago, I traveled by fast train to Madrid and spent four nights in a hotel belonging to a Camino friend's family. I recommend it: Hotel Santander on Calle Echegaray, very reasonable and conveniently located. I did see and grow to love the Sagredo family and Teresa Soler and her husband Fernando Mendez, and I visited four museums in 3 days - heaven for me! especially the home of Joaquin Sorolla, one of my favorite painters. I walked there and back, about 5.4 kms with no appreciable discomfort. Bravo.
Some reflections of the Camino:
I learned how to drop my story, to be just a woman, interested in other people, asking questions instead of constantly pontificating - that's a learning: how unbalanced my relations with other people sometimes have been, too little curiosity about them and too much telling my opinions, ideas, history.
I learned how little is essential to life, not just physically, by living out of a smallish backpack and eating food, day after day, that wasn't "on my diet," but again, in relating to people: only openness and good will seemed to suffice.
I really came to believe that the Camino never ends, that making a commitment to come begins the Camino and then, although supposedly it ends in Santiago or Finisterra, for me it will not be so. The changes in me, the remembrance of feelings, sights and conversations will be with me always. The latter were so often in synch with the inner dialogues I experienced walking alone. Of course, there are also the new friends, four or five of whom will be friends for life. (I am reminded of the rich man in Amarillo who spends his wealth on public art, most famously, Cadillac Ranch which can be seen from I40, but most importantly (I think) the fake road signs all over town - Andy Warhol's Marilyn Monroe, the Jabberwocky but best of all, a yellow and black, diamond-shaped sign near his own house that says "ROAD NEVER ENDS." So with the Camino for me.
Another observation, from early on: how much more energy it costs me to be judgmental than to just notice attributes of another person. Here's an example: a man walks by, and I might say to myself, "he is really FAT!" or I might say to myself, "he is carrying a lot of extra weight." One loses me energy and tends to linger in the mind, and one is tinged with compassion and tends to flow right through. Hope I can hold on to this one.
Tracy cooks, and is available for limitless information about Galicia, the history of the Camino and many other topics. She is a former race car driver, horseback rider, has degrees in history, ecopsychology, clinical psychology and a certificate in hypnosis which she regularly uses in her practice. A fascinating woman.
She is available for hire as a tour guide for northern Galicia and the Costa del Muerto, so called because the Atlantic here is ferocious with huge waves crashing everywhere against the black rocks and a sea floor so uneven that it has caused numerous shipwrecks of the many years that humans have lived and traded here.
She took me and my two Canadian women Camino friends to a very large dolmen, protected with an elaborate glassed-in cover because of the paintings inside; a castro, a prehistoric, stone-age village with only the circular stone house walls remaining in a beautiful pattern, climbing a grassy green hillside; a well-preserved castle, with lacemaking women and weavers hard at work inside and most interesting to me, to the Museo Aleman in Camelle.
In 1962 a German man named Manfred Gnedeger arrived in Camelle wearing a suit. He rented a room in a house and began giving German lessons. Apparently he fell in love with one of his students but she was already betrothed. Broken hearted, he moved out of the house, purchased a piece of the coastline at the Atlantic end of the village, took off his suit and spent the rest of his life in a loin cloth, winter and summer, making exquisite rock sculptures with the beach rocks and cement. ( I took so many pictures there in a drizzle that my IPhone didn't work for 4 days; finally 3 nights of rice treatment brought it back. Whew!).
Some people in the village liked him very much, others wanted to get rid of him. He was accused of molesting a little girl, arrested and thrown in jail, where he was for 6 months. There was no evidence, the girl and her parents denied it so eventually he was released and returned to his small, square concrete hut on the beach and resumed his work.
The second attempt to get rid of him was a plan to build a breakwater right through his sculpture garden. He pleaded and his supporters pleaded, but the breakwater was built. As a protest, he lay his body down on the wet cement top of the structure, in three positions, face up, face down and sideways, so today there are indentations on the top that collect rainwater.
He began painting the breakwater with large and small circles in different colors, and since his death some in the village have refreshed some of these circles.
in 2001 an oil tanker called the Prestige broke up off the Galician coast and Camelle was one of the worst affected towns. Manfred was heartbroken, and the villagers who often took him fresh bread noticed that the bread was not taken into the house, inquired and found him dead in his house. He apparently had a heart condition that required regular medication and he just stopped taking it.
After his death, there was an effort to preserve his legacy, and Galicia named the site Museo de Aleman. He had left 120,000 euros to the state, but that money has completely disappeared and his house is in extreme disrepair but Tracy and an American academic who has walked the Camino several times have installed an exhibit of his belongings and photographs of the sculpture garden as it once was in the Camelle community center. (see photos)
When I returned to Santiago, I traveled by fast train to Madrid and spent four nights in a hotel belonging to a Camino friend's family. I recommend it: Hotel Santander on Calle Echegaray, very reasonable and conveniently located. I did see and grow to love the Sagredo family and Teresa Soler and her husband Fernando Mendez, and I visited four museums in 3 days - heaven for me! especially the home of Joaquin Sorolla, one of my favorite painters. I walked there and back, about 5.4 kms with no appreciable discomfort. Bravo.
Some reflections of the Camino:
I learned how to drop my story, to be just a woman, interested in other people, asking questions instead of constantly pontificating - that's a learning: how unbalanced my relations with other people sometimes have been, too little curiosity about them and too much telling my opinions, ideas, history.
I learned how little is essential to life, not just physically, by living out of a smallish backpack and eating food, day after day, that wasn't "on my diet," but again, in relating to people: only openness and good will seemed to suffice.
I really came to believe that the Camino never ends, that making a commitment to come begins the Camino and then, although supposedly it ends in Santiago or Finisterra, for me it will not be so. The changes in me, the remembrance of feelings, sights and conversations will be with me always. The latter were so often in synch with the inner dialogues I experienced walking alone. Of course, there are also the new friends, four or five of whom will be friends for life. (I am reminded of the rich man in Amarillo who spends his wealth on public art, most famously, Cadillac Ranch which can be seen from I40, but most importantly (I think) the fake road signs all over town - Andy Warhol's Marilyn Monroe, the Jabberwocky but best of all, a yellow and black, diamond-shaped sign near his own house that says "ROAD NEVER ENDS." So with the Camino for me.
Another observation, from early on: how much more energy it costs me to be judgmental than to just notice attributes of another person. Here's an example: a man walks by, and I might say to myself, "he is really FAT!" or I might say to myself, "he is carrying a lot of extra weight." One loses me energy and tends to linger in the mind, and one is tinged with compassion and tends to flow right through. Hope I can hold on to this one.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
November 2, 2013
I have just spent three nights on the 4th floor of a huge former monastery right across a square from the north transept of the cathedral in Santiago. Spartan, to say the least but a good bed and plenty of hot water. The room was about 6'x12 with high western windows on the west.
The first day, the day I arrived, was a glorious autumn day, sky as blue as New Mexico and no wind. I put the several enticing museums out of my mind and just walked around. Santiago is one of the least modernized, that is, most medieval cities I've ever seen. Narrow streets paved with stone wind around giving the sense of slow and organic growth over the centuries. The buildings are only three or four stories high, so the streets are not dark or canyon-like.
The shops are modern, though - electronics, shoes, clothing, camping gear and lots of bakeries and sweet shops, plus the expected souvenir stores everywhere.
Santiago is famous for its tart, which is scrumptious, made only with ground almonds, eggs and sugar. Since it is gluten-free, I will try to bring some home.
Now the rain has set in, and the forecast has no appreciable sun for the next week. Oh, we'll. I won't be walking much anyway.
The pilgrim mass yesterday was completely different from two weeks ago because it was All Saints Day. More priests and a bishop in full regalia, but the wonderful change was a glorious choir, singing from a loft at the west end of the nave up high. The voices resonated off the stones - I'm sure they were amplified, too. I cried almost the whole time, I was so moved. Quite a few people who had passed through Paloma y Lena were there, too, so it was lovely to see them again and hear their stories of the last week of their Caminos.
Here's mine. I decided not to try for the whole 100 kilometers, so I took the bus about 40 Kms forward to miss some very steep downhills. I then walked 2 and a half days. All was fine until the last afternoon when I could feel the inflammation starting again, so I took the bus the rest of the way.
The Pilgrim Office awarded me the Campostella anyway, which made me so so happy. I thought I didn't really care about it, but I guess I did. I only walked 615 of the 790 kilometers, but it was a big effort anyway and it is wonderful to have that recognized!
The museum I have loved the most here is the Pobo Gallego, the museum of the Galician way of life. It contains real fishing boats of different types, crab pots, etc. and so many models of homes, barns, whole villages plus old photos. There were two screens with narratives and photos with English text offered. I could have stayed there all day if my legs held up, but they didn't.
I am eating through the menu of two fine restaurants, one I think is the best Italian food I've ever had, the other traditional Galician food.
Tonight I meet Tracy Saunders, a British author and psychologist who has opened her home to pilgrims who want a little time for reflection before flying home. I will write about it after I have been there.
Lots of love,
Mary
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
October 23
This is so frustrating! I just lost another longish post as I left it to have a nap and now cannot find where "drafts" are stored.
To continue: My South African friend, Mary Goodenough, who walked all but around ten kilometers of the Camino, with a pack heavier than mine, never a hiker before -a 62-year-old woman of grit, to say the least - she said, when she got to Santiago, that she never, ever would have made it if she hadn't been "carried along" by others, her Camino friends and the support of friends at home.
I think that's true of others, for sure of me. The support of family and friends at home and people I've come to love here has kept me going, and makes me want to finish the walk. That is definitely part of the culture and blessing if the Camino. Of course, also, you meet people you want to see again, to have dinner with, to get to know better and that keeps those legs and poles swinging.
In my case, it kept them swinging in constant pain a little too long so that I'm now having to rest for days to see IF I can continue. The good news is that today is the first day in weeks with no ibuprofen at all and I can walk, not without some pain, but I feel that with two more days rest, I'll be able at least to walk some of the way back to Santiago.
I would like to be there by November first, All Saints Day, as the monks will surely swing the botufumeiro at that moon pilgrim's mass. This is a very large silver incense burner that takes four strong monks to swing from ropes on a pulley high in the crossing. I watched them last week and it is very trickly, the timing and the strength if the monks quite awe inspiring. In medieval times, it was used to fumigate the peregrinos, who arrived in Santiago diseased and stinking to high heaven. (Where did that expression come from? Wow, never asked that question before...)
Anyway, that'll all for now.
Love to all,
Mary
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Nineteenth century mermaids (ugly,I think
This Nineteenth Century fountain, ugly mermaids, I think, nineteenth century
Yesterday I got an email from Alysson Siwik, the director of the Gila Vonservation Coalition, saying there was another important water meeting coming up. For what it is worth, I pray for the Gila River every day , especially when I walki by an acequia head gate. Our whole system of water distribution came to NM from Spain and in the north the Spanish lingo is still used -mayordomo and parciantes; on the Gila, we just say ditch, but the practices are the same. I've even seen sheets of heavy plastic like we use to back up the water for individual fields or rows.
I am in Galicia now - the home stretch! It is wet and incredibly green; the trees covered with moss. Old, gnarly chestnuts - they are either not planted or so long ago there is no order - also many big, old walnuts, whose fallen nuts I see people cracking, one against another, moist and flavorful.
I took another detour Monday and Tuesday, to see another monastery, this one at Samos. It is one of the oldest and largest in Spain, with a small town serving the monks and visitors wrapped around it. A lovely slow moving clear stream flows past with so many trout in it - we saw one giant one about eighteen inches long!
I've been ordering trout quite a bit for dinner as I know it will be local and fresh. The pilgrim menu generally costs about 8 to 12 euros (mulltiply by 1.5) and consists of three courses, with bread and wine included.
My knee is not better and I have had plenty of rest, so I guess I am headed for the surgeon when I get home. As long as I take 3 to 5 ibuprofen tablets a day, use my sticks, especially going down hills, walk slowly, I can do the 10 km a day without too much pain.
Here are some recent photos. Love to all, mary
Saturday, October 12, 2013
10-12-13
I just looked at my posts and the photo cations don't appear. Sorry. I'll try to learn how to fix that.
Today I am resting in a gorgeous town of 5000. Had to come back here yesterday in a taxi to see a doctor about my knee - easy and free for people over 65! Thanks be the problem is tendinitis and not a torn ligament. He spoke no English but was kind and patient with my broken and ungrammatical Spanish. I had written down "trigeminal neuralgial" and "oxcarbezepine" and he wrote a prescription on the spot which I filled down the street for one-third what I pay at home. The pain has been intense so I definitely needed more and had worried some about running out.
My spiritual work recently has been to move my shame about not carrying my pack into humility. I now accepting my limitations and that I simply cannot walk with 15 or so pounds extra on my knee. So be it. I have also been realizing that along with shame, there was anger, anger at myself and at God. But I had to laugh because the anger was because now I wouldn't have the pride I would have felt at carrying the pack all the way! Pride is not exactly a virtue, is it? What a lesson. Then there's the envy to work on when I see people my age or older carrying their packs....
This is an inevitable part of the Camino - being confronted with your whole self. Walking alone is in some ways like zazen, the solitude with no need to interact or respond to other people. But the Camino is completely different from sesshin in that mornings and evenings I have the opportunity to be as social as I want to be, making new friends, reconnecting with old ones, listening to people's fascinating stories, sharing my own. So the thoughts that clutter the mind during the day are about the immediate present, who I am today or yesterday, much more than in Zen practice.
The other difference, of course, is stimulation. In zazen one is minimizing stimulation by wearing plain, dark clothing and not meeting other people's eyes, only speaking to the teacher, facing the wall and so forth. Here the landscape is constantly changing, everyone who passes says, "buen Camino" and there is warm conviviality at breakfast and dinner. I love it.
I'll try a different way of posting photos now.
Lots of love, everyone,
Mary
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Saturday, October 5, 2013
10-4-14
(Got the date wrong on some photos - it is the 4th.)
Yesterday I walked 20 Kms mostly right beside the N-120, a very busy highway, not the receded route, because Mary from SA recommended an alberque. She said in her email that I'd love the food, everything organic and vegetables from its garden! At this point, I would walk a mile for a green vegetable! The Spanish grow them, but we never see them on menu.
The Albergue Vieira was a dream come true. Walking in, on the right is an open kitchen with baskets of tomatoes, green beans, zucchini, red peppers onions. Heaven! Both the proprietress and the cook were smiling welcomingly, and both dinner and breakfast could be ordered at registration. The total cost for two scrumptious meals, bed, shower and which was later served with laundry opportunity was 21 euros - about $30.
My new young friend from Germany Laura and I were invited into the kitchen for spoonfuls of a delicious and, praise God and pass the biscuits , SPICY! Tomato-based sauce later served with dinner. The menu: a vegetarian paella )I got the recipe!), bread, plates of them/sliced Spanish ham, chorizo and salami, chicken ices roasted with garlic in a slightly thickened gravy and mushrooms sautéed with garlic. There was the always free in Spain vino Tinto.
The desserts were not homemade but everyone was happy-I had yoghurt natural, but there was chocolate mousse with or without whipped cream and several flavors of ice cream.
There were only nine of us - a Frencj couple, a young Spanish couple walking the Camino to help decide whether to marry (a dilemma because she has a good job in Mexico and he is very involved with his family's hotel in Madrid), three South Koreans (young man with father, and a young woman walking alone), me and Laura.
As usual, the common language was English. Whew. We had a wide-ranging discussion and many toasted. A wonderful evening, and if we meet again on the Camino, I'm sure we'll feel like old friends.
Time to rest these eyes!
Love to all - mary burton
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
10-3-13
What a wonderful birthday party I had! The night before my actual birthday. Mary and I were staying at a family-run casa rural in Calzadilla de Los Hermanillos and at dinner there was a candle to blow out in my homemade lemon mousse, happy birthday sung in three languages and a flute serenade from an interesting fellow from Holland!
BUT on October first, a day of rain and wind and red Mud muck, we got seriously lost and probably walked 30 km or so before we and 4 other peregrinos perdidos asked a woman to call us a cab for what turned out to be the last 4 Kms. I figure my 72nd year can only go up from there! Thank heavens I had shipped my pack or I would have really been a wreck.
When we arrived at our little Hostal in Mansillas de las Mulas, we found a small pot of red roses with a birthday note from Pia! She was staying at an alberque - having hopped off there instead if going on to Leon,
I am staying an extra day in Leon - at a hotel recommended by Ron Henry - my foot and knee are much better, but I feel another easy day will be good. I'll lose some friends, but who knows? I might catch them up later.
I am now 50 Kms past the halfway mark.
Whew! It is a big effort but I am so glad to be here. It sounds corny, but when the going gets rough, I think, "offer it up for the river."
Enough staring at this tiny keyboard!
Love to all,
MBR
9-27-13
This evening was one of the most memorable of the Camino so far. I stayed at the Santa Maria alberque, in a room with only three others - Doug and Lari from Franklin-Pierceand a very kind woman from Slovenia. At 5:30 in the adjacent church was vespers. One of the three nuns sang and played an instrument I've not seen before, shaped a bit like an Autoharp, but not strummed. She just slid her hand from top to bottom and the sound was like an electrified harp. Her voice was sublime, no other word will do.
Afterwards, in the foyer of the alberque the nuns and the bilingual hospitalero hosted a "encuentro musical." There were song sheets for all 40 or so pelegrinos, sitting in around the room and up the stairs, songs from four languages. After a few songs led by the angelic voice of Sister ??, we were invited to go around and say ournames, where we come from, and why we were walking the Camino. After the first few people,any of us (including me) had years strewing down our cheeks. Then the hospitalero asked if anybody would like to sing a song from his home country.
We heard from Sweden, Korea, France, Armenia - I wanted to sing "Side by Side" but couldn't remember all the words. Of course two days later in the shower I sang it flawlessly, joined by an American man in the next stall. Oh, we'll.
Then there was the pilgrim mass with more exquisite singing. A beautiful evening all around,
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
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