"There are two ways to get enough; one is to continue to accumulate. The other is to desire less."- GK Chesterton
One of the great things about a trip like this is that you do become happier with "less." You have to carry everything. I do think a chunk of my pre-trip anxiety was feeling like I'd forgotten something important. I didn't feel like I had enough stuff. Several times on this trip I've stood up to leave and look around wondering what I'm missing. I actually take a while to get ready in the morning because I keep searching for what I'm missing.
Before this trip, I was reading a lot of Brené Brown. I started this when my program manager suggested we all read Atlas of the Heart, and it hit my weak spots...so I kept reading.
Brown researches emotions. A central tenet of her work is that we all suffer from a culture of scarcity, which is a false notion we have all bought into. A culture of scarcity is where we focus on what we perceive we lack, and center our thoughts on that we're never "enough." We never have enough money, love, time, etc. Scarcity culture is behind many evils in this world, but Brown categorizes a few outcomes: shame, comparison, and disengagement. (You can get the definitions here if you want.)
In addition to wondering if I have "enough," I've also noticed I'm stuck on comparison. I'm comparing this Camino to the last one a lot. And it's battling me for my joy, just as it does at home. This doesn't surprise me. I know from last time, the Camino isn't going to solve my problems. But it does give me a place to finally think about them.
After having to Uber to the hotel on my first day, I Ubered back to my starting point to try again. I didn't realize absolutely everything would be closed because it was Sunday morning. Without coffee, and after a discouraging first day. I was quite grumpy.
Why am I doing this?
This isn't relaxing. I am using all of my paid and some unpaid time off for this? Why? I didn't even question it last time.
If I don't want to keep going, I just need to let myself stop. If pilgrims in the Middle Ages had the option to drive or take trains…THEY WOULD HAVE. This is UNNECESSARY.
My problem is, when I make my mind up about something, I'm going to do it. Even if I'm miserable. And living like this has caused me many physical injuries and mental drain. It's applauded in our culture too, which makes it hard to stop. I'm lauded for being "tough." But everything has a limit. Too much of anything is toxic. It's part of what has led to my burnout. I don't quit anything, and it's drained me of the resources to maintain deep connections with others and have compassion toward myself. I walked and hoped that if I really couldn't find joy here again, that I would let myself quit.
About 10 km in, I found a grocery store and praise be they had an open cafe. The caffeine reinvigorated me and I finally ate. I was in much better spirits the rest of my hike. A bitch just needs her coffee!
The rest of the hike was by the river Tejo again, which was nice and brought a breeze.
Since I'd had so much trouble finding accommodation on the first day, I took a half day in Villa Franca, a beautiful little town by the river.
I found a room, not a hostel, but a room at an "Alojamento Local," which I'd learned about from my Uber driver the night before (these are essentially air bnbs. They're people's homes where they rent out rooms. It's in between a hostel and a hotel). I was disappointed to not be in a hostel. I loved having my own space, but it didn't feel like "the Camino experience." I tried to dismiss that thinking. The owner was a very nice woman, which was a comfort my soul needed after so many creepy men. She even did my laundry for me. She didn't speak any English but we communicated via Google Translate.
I spent a lazy day walking around the town, reading in the park, and eating. I'm very bad at just relaxing. I felt a pull of what I should be doing. I should've kept walking. I should write this blog, etc. and I intentionally fought back those urges and ate gelato and read fiction instead. Sorry y'all, it's called healing.
I also worked on improving my Portuguese, so I can better communicate with all these men.
It was some much needed R and R, that felt very weird. However, the next day, I started full of energy (I also didn't have to wait for coffee, so there's that...). I averaged 5km/hr most of the day (the guidebook says the average is 3km/hr). I was reminded of what I tell organizations all the time in consulting...that rest is required to do your best.
I'm very bad at practicing this, but this is largely due to the culture I'm in. US culture pushes working all the time, and as an I-O psychologist, I'm very familiar with all of the research showing that when you run your employees into the ground, not only will they eventually leave, they will not perform as well while they're there. (In fact, while I was looking for a link to share on scarcity mindset, I found this..) Throughout our PhD programs, my best friend Yanet and I grew into the habit of asking each other, "is this something that will take you four hours now with lots of mistakes, or one hour tomorrow without them?" It's something we still have to frequently ask each other, because in our cultures, both at work and the overarching culture of scarcity, it's easy to forget.
To do your best you must rest, I repeated to myself for a few kilometers.
I planned on walking a long day, 33.3 km. I was trusting the arrows more. I had started to see more of them on day 2, but not as frequently as I would like. Sometimes the path diverged and there are also a lot do roundabouts here. I realized I was wanting Google Maps frequency, to see where I am in real time, and that's not what the arrow is. I wanted to leave Google Maps right? That's why my phone was off? This is something I'd have to let go. If the last arrow was straight, go straight at the roundabout. If it's going to change, there will be another arrow...probably.
The first 20 km went by easily. I hit them all before noon. I was killing it and in good spirits. My plan was to stay in an "in between" town, in between the major stops. According to my guidebook, there were albuergues there, and I really wanted to be around other pilgrims.
The last 11 km went by much slower. They crawled by actually. I was completely alone the whole time, and the sun was now beating down, with no shade. Every time I turned a corner I thought would be the next town...there was just more open fields for as far as I could see.
And then I started to see what looked like villages, but must just be large homes of the wealthy behind gates. And I, the American, from the wealthiest country in the world where only a handful of people have most of it, was OUTRAGED in my fatigue. How DARE they have such DECEIVING amounts of MONEY. (The sun and exhaustion make me cranky...actually it doesn't take much to make me cranky #knowthyself).
I finally saw what was definitely a town, and murmured to myself "that better be THE town I'm staying in, and not just the town I pass through before with the cafe on the map."
It was indeed, the town with just the cafe on the map.
I ran out of water right before the cafe. I sat with a juice and ordered one bottle of water to go, knowing my stop was close. I pressed on, wobbly and exhausted, only to find that the next town...was full. There was no room in the inns. Basically, I'm telling you I was baby Jesus (I'm kidding, don't call the sacrelige police on me).
Full of who? There's been hardly anybody out here?
I was out of water again. There was a small town 3.5 km up, but my guidebook said there was nowhere to stay. There were no facilities at all past that town until Santarém, 16.2 km beyond that. I was looking at another 12 miles on top of the 22 I'd already done, and it was 5 pm.
There was one hope, a Quinta in almost the next town. It wouldn't be a hostel with "the Camino experience," but if they had room, I didn't want to do another 12 miles eventually in the dark.
Turns out, this place was bougie as hell. It was far more expensive than my guidebook said it would be, twice as much. But it was the safe and needed option at the time.
The room was beautiful, with a balcony with a view. Breakfast was included in the price, but it didn't start until 8 am, a late start for a pilgrim.
This place is telling me to rest. I just need to rest.
I tried to just sink into it. Enjoy the experience. Again, I felt the tug of comparison.
This isn't like last time. Last time by now I'd met so many people.
This isn't a real pilgrim experience.
I should blog or something.
I intentionally pushed the thoughts away, and took a hot shower.
Damn I need some wine on this balcony.
There weren't any stores or restaurants nearby, so I had to eat there. The concierge brought me dinner in my balcony.
"Oh, what do you want to drink?" She asked.
"What are the options?" I said out loud. Please say wine, I thought.
"Soda, beer, wine--"
"Wine is good."
Complete.
The next morning I enjoyed breakfast and hit the trail. I was taking another half day, but after the hostels being full, I felt rushed. I noticed these vans that kept bringing groups of people, usually in matching shirts and reflective vests. They were all Portuguese and seemed to be affiliated with churches. The vans kept going back and forth on the trail, dropping people off, and I guess bringing them food and water? These groups only had day packs, not backpacks. I was annoyed by the vans zooming back and forth, pushing me to the side as I scurried out of their way, their wheels kicking up dust on the dry path every time. I kept feeling the rush, the more groups I saw.
That's not how you do a camino, I thought condescendingly.
I made myself pause for a snack (because yes, I was cranky again). I tried to resist the rush and just get lost in thought. I eventually passed all the groups, and started the steep climb into Santarém. I couldn't find the hostel based on the guidebook map (these maps have been shit, not matching street names or not accounting for several streets). Frustrated again, I turned on my phone to find a hostel. I was feeling the usual anxiety.
I'm out of clean clothes, I need to do laundry.
I also want to write today.
And nap.
And socialize.
And see the town.
And...
I found it, and...it didn't open for another two hours. Due to Covid, apparently.
Knowing I was losing my mind, I went to find food. While restoring my spirits, I read through some of the Brené Brown scarcity mindset material. Reminding myself, there is enough. I am enough. This Camino is enough. This Camino is this Camino, not last camino. It will be okay.
I returned to the hostel to wait for the last hour. There were three other pilgrims there speaking English. I sat down next to them. They were talking about how crowded it's been.
"It's those Fatima pilgrims, they booked up everything!" One woman said, clearly frustrated and clearly American.
The American and one other man from Holland were on the Santiago trail, but one woman was going to Fatima with her group. Both the Fatima and Santiago camino start in Lisbon and follow the same path to this city, Santarém, before they split. The Fatima pilgrimage is much newer.
According to its lore, Mary appeared to three children in Fatima on May 13, 1917. Now, many Portuguese walk there for the anniversary to celebrate. Some Santiago walkers go through Fatima on the way there, but the traditional way is to go through Tomar instead. (I have read that Fatima is very touristy, so if you don't have religious reasons it's not advised. I don't have those, so I intend to go the Tomar route).
The man from Holland hadn't heard the story, so the American explained it to him. "It's like Lourdes, in France," she said.
"Both places?" He asked.
"Yeah Mary was busy over here y'all," I said. They laughed.
The Fatima pilgrim explained that the vans and the groups with the matching shirts were entire churches of people going to Fatima for the annual celebration, and they'd reserved each hostel along their path months ago, which is why the Santiago pilgrims were struggling so much more than usual. Nobody went to Fatima for two years due to Covid, so now there are waves of people going. They are also going to say "thank you" for surviving the pandemic. The problem is, alburgues closed during the pandemic. And many of them have not re-opened.
Both other Santiago pilgrims had the same difficulty last night that I did. One also had an expensive room, and the other had to stay on a broken cot in the hallway of an albergue .
"I did Camino Frances ten years ago and nobody booked in advance," I said.
"This is my fourth, and this is by far the worst," the other American said. "It's the most expensive because you can't find anywhere!"
At least we were here early at the hostel, I thought...until the Fatima person and Hollander told me they had reservations. The American had called two days before and they told her they were full. We were waiting outside a booked hostel.
Fuck, I just meditated on scarcity and now y'all telling me shit is scarce?!
I tried to stay calm and just wait. Not go around town freaking out.
The American was injured and told by a doctor not to walk for two days. She was hoping the hostel would give her a break. I waited with her. When the hosteliers came out, the Fatima pilgrim helped explain our situation to her. The first hostelier threw her hands up and walked away. The second said, "I have two beds."
"Can I have one and she have the other?" The American said, pointing at me.
"Yes."
We got settled into our bunks, chatting. The other American offered to take my laundry to a laundromat with hers. I found the wifi for both of us. The Holland man speaks French and is translating between us and an older French woman in the same room .
This is the real Camino experience, I thought.
But I know that's not true. My guidebook's meditation yesterday was:
For the last seven years, I've been researching and working in diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (DEIA). Eradicating prejudice is a conscious focus of mine, and in my work I try to help others do the same. It's a journey without an end destination. We will never be completely without prejudice. And you don't get a trophy for any progress along the way. It's just something you should be doing anyway. There's not a reward for not being an asshole.
At the core of DEIA is the idea that there is not one right way. Not one right way to look, act, or be. When we decide one way is good, we inevitably label others as bad. That's where the discrimination happens.
And that's a very dramatic way of telling you that I'm trying to remember there's also not one right way to do a camino.
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