{"id":1100,"date":"2013-11-03T20:01:10","date_gmt":"2013-11-03T19:01:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/?p=1100"},"modified":"2013-11-03T20:07:46","modified_gmt":"2013-11-03T19:07:46","slug":"finding-self-camino-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/finding-self-camino-part-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Finding self on the Camino (Part 2) Accepting Fascists and Sleeping with strangers"},"content":{"rendered":"

Finding Self on the Camino (Part 2) \u00a0Merida to Aldea del Cano<\/strong><\/h2>\n

Accepting Fascists.<\/h1>\n

Sleeping alone in a field, under the stars, and awaking covered in dew surrounded by mist gave me a delicious sense of freedom. \u00a0It opened my senses to a world full of “miracles.”<\/a>\u00a0 All my solitary Caminos have begun with a night in the open air and each time, like a new baptism, \u00a0the cobwebs of \u00a0“normal” daily living are washed away.<\/p>\n

\"Packing<\/a>

Packing up after first night on Iona Pilgrimage, Near Azpetzia, Pais Vasco.<\/p><\/div>\n

On my first Camino I had walked 180 kilometres in 9 days before I had my first “real” experience of an albergue. \u00a0Holy Week was underway and the weather was superb. \u00a0The pilgrims’ hostel, in a restored and converted water-mill in Merida, was full. \u00a0Sixty of us were all sleeping in the one room. \u00a0It was also tightly run in 2010 by the hospitalero, Juan. He put on the lights early and everyone had to be out at the crack of dawn. \u00a0He locked people out at night if they were not back by closing time. \u00a0This was my first taste of the strict regime which I encountered in albergues in most of the bigger cities, especially Zamora.<\/p>\n

There was a time when I would have railed against any authoritarianism. \u00a0Here, in Merida, I noticed I didn’t. \u00a0The Camino from Seville had been silent, a solitude I chose and enjoyed. Also I was working on detachment, from comforts above all, \u00a0but also from my desire to have everything under control.<\/p>\n

In Almaden de La Plata one of the local people had come up to me after Mass and said, “Will you pray for me?” \u00a0No one had ever asked me to pray for them before. \u00a0I now know that this is not an uncommon request of pilgrims. \u00a0That first time was the first of many but still, each time, I feel privileged and, really \u00a0unworthy of such trust. \u00a0 It was at this point that I added, “humility” to the prayer which I repeated over and over while walking, \u00a0“Lord, grant me, Faith, Humility and Trust.”<\/p>\n

[“Faith” I have asked for from the beginning because I’m a sceptic<\/a>\u00a0and”Trust” because of my desire to be in control. “Humility” is a basic nutrient in life, I know, but in short supply in my larder.]<\/p>\n

\"Roman<\/a>

Roman dam, resevoir built be Romans to serve Merida,
Proserpina Dam.<\/p><\/div>\n

By the time I arrived in Merida the day after I turned 61, a bit of groundwork had been underway when I met Juan, the strict hospitalero. \u00a0I simply accepted that the rules were there and obeyed them without any feeling of loss of my own freedom. \u00a0I even rejoiced in the early morning start which allowed me to relish passing the great Roman aqueduct at sunrise. \u00a0In the end I easily appreciate the valuable work of Juan and other hospitaleros who ensure a good night’s rest for all.<\/p>\n

\"Merida,<\/a>

Merida, aqueduct at sunrise<\/p><\/div>\n

This little freedom, detaching myself from a life-long distaste for authority, was a new discovery. \u00a0A huge chunk of my life’s energy has been spent on a mission to deactivate the powers of those who control. \u00a0Parents, teachers, bureaucrats, telephone companies, supermarket security staff, \u00a0bus conductors, priests, doctors’ surgery receptionists, drivers of giant 4x4s and town planners and Margaret Thatcher: they all merited my best efforts at confrontation, challenge and, if possible, some form of well-reasoned annihilation (my favourite weapon, as effective as a child’s plastic sword). \u00a0 Perhaps I just grew up a bit in Merida, but I had liberated myself, \u00a0and began to enjoy this new freedom within me. \u00a0It was another bridge on this journey towards finding my true self.<\/p>\n

\"Dog<\/a>

Dog controlling the bridge, the entry to Aldea del Can0, Via de La Plata.<\/p><\/div>\n

Sleeping with Strangers.<\/h1>\n

Looking back to these small steps at the beginning of my first Camino I am surprised how seemingly unimportant experiences can have a hugely amplified significance on my life. Being immersed in a pilgrimage seems to open us to the possibility of radical inner change.<\/p>\n

The albergue in, Merida, as I have said was packed. \u00a0I have been very protected in my life from dormitory night-times. \u00a0As I lay in bed that night I thought, not of the strangeness of sleeping with strangers, but about the privacy we now take for granted in our lives in developed countries. \u00a0To sleep in your own bed, in your own bedroom, single, or as a couple, is a reasonable aspiration if not an expectation. \u00a0 With families becoming smaller, many children now have their own bedrooms. \u00a0Our houses have spare bedrooms. \u00a0Yet, for all sorts of reasons from lack of space to safety in numbers most human beings do not, in general, sleep alone or in pairs.<\/p>\n

Not everyone on the Camino stays in Albergues, but most do even if only for a night or so, even those with platinum Visa cards. \u00a0I still need to adjust when I begin a new Camino and I realise for some it is a true challenge. \u00a0The albergue is a common topic in conversations, especially the rights of snorers, or the agoraphobia of those who shut the windows, or the claustrophobia of those who open the windows. \u00a0One young Danish boy said to me he wanted to kill half the pilgrims in the albergue on his first night but now he even enjoyed sleeping en masse. \u00a0He was replying to a question I had asked him about what had changed most for him on the camino.<\/p>\n

\"Veteran<\/a>

Veteran Pilgrim,
Aldea del Cano, Caceres, Via de La Plata<\/p><\/div>\n

That night, before sleeping, I drifted off to sleep feeling cosy, comfortable and surrounded by people who accepted and trusted each other to share a bedroom with barely standing room between the bunk beds. \u00a0There were young and old, male and female, Europeans, Asians, Americans and cyclists prepared to bed down with other foreigners, \u00a0It was, I felt, just as it should be. \u00a0With privacy made difficult, personal defensive boundaries weaken and fall. \u00a0These defences protect me from the world of others as much as protect my privacy. \u00a0The first nights may be a shock but very quickly new pilgrims adjust to this new shared intimacy with fellow pilgrims. \u00a0This step of learning to sleep with all of humanity is, for me at least, another bridge on the journey to find myself.<\/p>\n

\"Beautiful<\/a>

Beautiful old roman bridge near Casas de Don Antonio, Via de La Plata in Caceres.<\/p><\/div>\n

As I headed North towards Caceres, the Camino followed the old Roman Via de La Plata faithfully. \u00a0Looking back, I now see that I was beginning to find myself through the Camino experiences and through prayer. \u00a0My “business” card had become redundant, I was free of my deep rooted impulse to battle with authority and had dropped off many personal defences just by sleeping with strangers. \u00a0“Finding myself” seemed to be about losing things.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Finding Self on the Camino (Part 2) \u00a0Merida to Aldea del Cano Accepting Fascists. Sleeping alone in a field, under the stars, and awaking covered in dew surrounded by mist gave me a delicious sense of freedom. \u00a0It opened my … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,8,5],"tags":[575,205,249,223,63,12,52,607,60,606],"class_list":["post-1100","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-pilgrimage-and-prayer","category-the-camino-de-santiago","category-via-de-la-plata","tag-accepting-fascists","tag-camino-part","tag-el-carrascalejo","tag-finca-el-chaperral","tag-iona-community","tag-la-plata","tag-miracles","tag-proserpina-dam","tag-scotland","tag-veteran-pilgrim"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1100","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1100"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1100\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1100"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1100"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1100"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}