All along the Camino, on sidewalks and overpasses, statues and rocks, people scrawl messages, drawings, and words of wisdom. Many encapsulate the experience of the Camino and the lessons people learn. I’ve chosen five that tell the story of my Camino.

La Vida es Peregrina, above a ubiquitous image of this dog.

“La vida es peregrina.”  (Life is a pilgrimage),  Rubiães, Portugal

Leaving the Camino does not mean that it is over. As our Dutch friend Constance says, “You take the Camino with you.” She divides her life into before her first Camino and after the Camino, because of the transformative effect it had on her worldview. All of life becomes a pilgrimage when tackled with the attitude and strength of a pilgrim. You learn to embrace the positive and negative alike, from snoring Italians in albergues to beautiful sunsets at the end of the world.

“Os nosos montañeiros, Jesus e Toni Martinez Novas, polo seu espirito de esforzo e sacrificio en defensa de paz e o medio ambiente.”(For our mountaineers, Jesus and Toni Martinez Novas, for their strong spirit and sacrifice in defense of peace and the environment.), O Porriño, Spain

This tribute to two Galician mountain climbers speaks to the kind of people found on the Camino. A great many of the pilgrims I’ve met are there primarily because of their love of hiking and the outdoors. The Camino draws adventurers who have done other long-distance hikes such as the Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest Trail, Inca Trail, and Mt. Kilimanjaro.

“Pensar diferente no es un delito, es un derecho y a veces un privilegio.”  Thinking differently isn’t a crime, it is a right and sometimes a privilege. Arcade, Spain

For me, an important thing to remember along the Camino is that the ability to adopt this different way of living is absolutely a privilege. It is accessible primarily to those who can afford to travel and walk. The pilgrims I’ve met on average have been financially stable, older, and whiter. While to some the Camino is “not a vacation at all,” but about reflection and suffering, it still requires a certain amount of stability, not to mention the time, money, and gear needed for the Camino. We must remind ourselves how lucky we are to be here.

“O único camiño que se fai siguiendo as Estrellas” (The only Camino that follows the stars.) Pontevedra, Spain

This Estrella Galicia beer ad takes a jab at the French route, often called the “Camino de las estrellas” because it follows the milky way. The strong Galician identity was evident from the moment we crossed over from Portugal and into Santiago–in food, language, graffiti, and, of course, beer. The billboard is also a great example of the commercial potential many companies find in the Camino’s pilgrims. Stores, restaurants, and albergue owners often rely on the influx of pilgrims in the summer months to support themselves throughout the rest of the year. The Camino, for all its spirituality and personal importance, is certainly not untouched by economic interests.

 “Para abrir nuevos caminos hay que: experimentar, correr riesgos, equivocarse y divertirse.” (To open up new pathways you must: experiment, take risks, make mistakes, and have fun). Arcade, Spain

The Camino is an incredibly reflective space, and many who come to walk are at a crossroads in life, unsure of the way forward. The time to take risks, make mistakes, and enjoy time away from the stress of life back home creates a unique atmosphere of acceptance and reflection.

Flag stating: REFUGEES WELCOME

Human movement and migration has been a part of our species’ survival strategy since pre-history. Only now, in the modern era, where states are demarcated by distinct (and often imperfect) geopolitical boundaries has the topic of human migration and the rights of migrants become so polemic. Recent violent conflicts in Syria and Myanmar, as well as the continuation of historic political instabilities in other regions, have caused issues surrounding refugee claims for asylum and countries’ migration policies to become all the more controversial. These issues make headline news and influence national elections even in states geographically distant from the crises at hand.

Those walking the Camino de Santiago, a group which has voluntarily chosen to (temporarily) adopt an itinerant lifestyle in a foreign land, unsurprisingly have some passionate views on the subject of human movement and its consequences.

“It’s not the Syrian refugees that are the problem,” Rena, a retired German anesthesiologist in her sixties affirms. “No, they’re fleeing war, violence. They’ve had their homes destroyed, their cities burned. How could you fault them? The problem is the North Africans, the economic migrants. Men who come from Morocco and Tunisia just because they can’t find jobs in their home country. They’re not hard workers [in Germany] either, and they just stir up trouble.”

Rena’s remarks are interesting for their dichotomy. She fully supports the rights of persons fleeing physical violence to migrate and claim asylum in the European Union but condemns those fleeing structural violence in their homelands that precludes them from finding opportunities for gainful employment. She would later qualify her comments to me, adding that fleeing poverty is one thing, but it’s another story when that poverty is the result of one’s own lack of ambition.

Hannah, a twenty-something woman living in London, objects to the idea of differentiating economic migrants. “I just think the whole debate around economic migrants is misguided. People wouldn’t leave their homes, their culture, and their families behind unless it were absolutely necessary. If they’re showing up on our shores, it’s because they have no other choice. We’re obligated to help.” For her part, Hannah says, she volunteers with Young Roots, an organization in the UK that gives refugee children and teens a place to come after school to learn about British culture, meet other recent immigrants, and spend time together without fear of persecution for speaking a language other than English.

As it turns out, most younger pilgrims (those aged 35 or less) surveyed on the Camino were skeptical of the idea that economic migrants were undeserving of the same refugee privileges as those fleeing violent conflict. Older pilgrims, especially those older than 60, were more likely to view economic migrants as less-deserving of asylum rights than refugees fleeing war. It must be noted that the sample size in which this trend was observed is small, no more than a dozen. But the pattern is present nonetheless.

That said, every pilgrim with whom I spoke — regardless of age, race, gender, or religion — affirmed the right of those who migrate to escape violent conflict (such as those refugee populations from Syria and Myanmar that dominate today’s newscasts) to claim asylum status, be that in the EU or wherever else they end up. “It’s hard to overemphasize the gravity of the current Rohingya refugee crisis in Myanmar,” says Jonathan, an Australian man of around 30 who is currently training to work as a diplomat in Vietnam. “It’s ethnic cleansing, right, yet so many people seem not to care. It’s been a breath of fresh air to be on the Camino and meet so many other people who recognize how big of a problem stuff like that is.”

A portion of these sympathies may be attributable to the relatively privileged backgrounds from which many pilgrims come. Travel, especially extended international travel, costs money. Thus, there’s a strong positive correlation between wealth and time spent abroad, just as there’s a strong positive correlation between time spent abroad and one’s likelihood to support the plight of refugee populations and other “more liberal” political stances.

The pilgrims of the Camino de Santiago come from many corners of the globe. They differ in age, ethnic background, socioeconomic position, and religiosity. One would expect all this difference to lead to a diversity in opinions on the topic of refugee rights and policy more than the age disparity mentioned above. But these testimonies also demonstrate that the pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago typically display strong sympathies for global refugee populations fleeing war, as well as equally strong censure for policies that diminish or obstruct the status of these groups as individuals.

Since the Way of Saint James is a Catholic pilgrimage with a history of prayer, penance, and devotion to God and His saints,

Church on the Camino

I am surprised to learn that many of the modern pilgrims that I have met on the Portuguese route are not Catholic. In fact, most of the people I have met are not religious at all.

What I have seen, however, is that people are spiritual—or have some sense of higher power connecting people together—but do not always identify with a specific faith tradition. A Californian couple in their thirties for example, they call themselves “spiritual” but “do not go to church every Sunday or anything like that”. They explain that they stop at the churches along the Camino and can appreciate their history and beauty without necessarily being

Christian or believing in what the church teaches.

Another 23 year old Portuguese man shared a similar sentiment regarding spirituality. Despite being raised Catholic by his mother as a child, he says that he is not religious. He quotes: “I believe in God, but do not do the institutional religion”. For him, he can acknowledge God without practicing a particular faith.

Although I met many people who told me a similar story of being “spiritual” but not religious, there are others who have special experiences while on the Camino that makes them a little more ambiguous with their religious identity. One 67 year old woman from the Netherlands told me that “on the Camino, I am Catholic,” even though she does not normally go to mass or identify herself in this way. She continues to say that she was raised Catholic so when she is on the Camino she cannot help but feel connected to that part of her life that is deep down in her heart.

Our friend Constance and Jacob on the Camino

Despite most people saying that they aren’t religious, (especially true of the Germans I met), there were some that did profess their Catholic faith (especially true for the Polish I met). One Irish man in his forties has been walking parts of the Camino for years and already completed the French route once before. He walks the Camino for holiday but explains that he is Catholic even though “[ Irish] society doesn’t value it”, as Catholicism is apparently no longer popular like how it used to be. He even mentioned that “I admire Americans since they are proud of whatever religion they are.” They do not even hide their religious status or the fact that they go to mass on their dating profiles out of embarrassment like some of his Irish friends do.

An elderly Polish man also has been walking the Camino for many years and is a devout catholic. I often see him sitting peacefully in little chapels along the way and gripping his rosary. He walks for religious purposes and used to think that people weren’t real pilgrims if they were not religious. But he has learned over the years that “everyone has their own pilgrimage” and that everyone’s Camino is as valid as the next person’s.

After meeting many people who are doing the Camino for recreational reasons with a sense of spirituality in the background, I came to the general consensus that maybe the Camino is not as religious, or Catholic as I once thought. Or maybe the Camino is different now than what is was like in the medieval ages where it seemed as though people were often times going on pilgrimage for their salvation or the salvation of a loved one.

But then again, maybe people from the past and people from 2018 all walk with similar intentions, but just call it something different. For instance, a lot of people I have talked to brought up the idea of a higher power and universal force. Is this really any different than the concept of a God, just being labeled something else? And many people walked for a sense of peace and community—something that many people turn to religion for. Maybe people understand spiritually and religion to be two different things, even though they can both be getting at a similar and deeper truth. And furthermore, as my Irish friend explained about people being embarrassed about claiming their Catholicism, maybe the people I met on the Camino do have a sense of religion but have not accepted it as their own or as something that they want to share with others.

I think that whether someone identifies as religious, spiritual, or nothing at all, the Camino is a space of people of all backgrounds to connect and experience the unity of “communitas”. That no matter what a pilgrim may believe, everyone can feel the power and comfort of the Camino.

Strong women friends on the Camino

The other day, I took a moment to text my mom and let her know about some of the incredible women I’ve met on the Camino, and especially how much their beauty and strength reminds me of her. “I find that most women are strong in their own ways” she responded. “It takes a lot to go out everyday in a world controlled by men — and to bear the emotional burdens of being the heart and soul of those societies, especially when it comes to motherhood”. These sentiments are especially pertinent to the Camino De Santiago.

With the initial rise of Christian pilgrimage came a failure to overcome social prejudices — namely, the ideology once stood that women were intellectually inferior and physically frail, leaving them confined to domestic roles. Moreover, women often could not travel without obtaining permission from their husbands, their priests, their lord and the King and even then they were required to have a male escort with them at all times.

The women I’ve encountered on the Camino disrupt this ideology, creating a space for women to be beautiful, independent, and resilient. It is not as though women have taken this space away from men, but instead continually manage to uplift the Camino into a uniquely dynamic space for women’s strength and expression, as well. We learn from each other, form connections, and find empowerment in freely navigating this beautiful, unpredictable adventure. Take, for example, the 69 year old woman from the Netherlands walking her 7th Camino — never married, bearing no children, and traveling alone, she remarked that “nothing makes [her] feel more beautiful and strong as a woman than walking the Camino and being in nature”. She goes on to explain that when she becomes critical of herself or her body, she remembers her friend back home with MS who would do anything to walk the Camino — “I am strong” she remarks, “My body takes care of me”. She proudly marches forward with her water bottle that converts into a wine glass, and you can’t help but smile and feel that same strength surge within you — woman to woman.

A 30 year old woman from South Korea came to the Camino searching for that same strength. We spent some time discussing my older brother’s experience coming out as gay to my family, and she wondered how she could find that same courage, because “people in Korea are not very accepting, but on the Camino I am me”. She is halfway through a solo year long trip around the world, and will continue on to travel with her mother after the Camino. “My mother is my God, and my mother is my best friend” she exclaims. We spend more time discussing our mothers, and she leaves me with a final “my mother is my strength”.

A 65 year old woman from San Francisco exclaims that her 8 year old granddaughter is her biggest fan, and that the time change is difficult because they can’t FaceTime everyday like they used to. “It’s so cool to see so many women do this” she explains, “so many people think this is only safe for men to do. My granddaughter thinks I’m the coolest person in the world for doing this. I want her to feel that way about herself”.

What once used to be primarily a male dominated space now serves as a source of mobility, strength, and connection for everyone. This is unique to the Camino.  As one incredible woman I met remarked, “this is the Camino. You’ll laugh, cry, sing, dance. These are the moments we will remember forever”. Might I add — these are also the women I will remember forever.

During my journey through Portugal and Spain, I left typically between seven and eight in the morning.  I would take long breaks and rest my feet.  When I arrived at each hostel around two in the evening, I had little to do and very few sights to see.  Some cities had a monastery or old ruins, yet this could be enjoyed at a leisurely pace in less than an hour.  I came to the question, why leave so early and rush the journey to arrive in a little town?  What are the schedules of people who do the Camino?

Sunrise in Muxia

Of course some have a very limited schedule, people on vacation from work or others with deadlines, and need to do a certain amount each day to finish the route quickly.  Drastic weather during the summer can bring people to leave early to avoid the “infernal temperatures” as an experienced Spaniard informed me.

Most albergues don’t even open until the afternoon, the municipal ones opening around three is typical.  So people often times rush only to sit outside in line and lose the essential part of the Camino, meeting people along the way.

An Austrian couple I met said they don’t like to go to the bathroom in the woods, since they have small small bladders, and so rush for 4 hours to the next hostel or cafe and go there.

One enthusiast English woman named June I enjoyed walking with said, “People still have a burning selfish desire, even though it’s a spiritual communal journey” and there was a profound “lack of respect and manners”.  The people who left early tended to be loud and obnoxious, especially “the Italians with their singing and loud conversations” according to a hiking power couple from the States.  They would rifle through their bags, talk to one another, and I’ve seen over 30 people leave their sheets and blankets on the bed for the volunteers to clean rather than put them in the washing bin like everyone else.

With severe blisters on my feet for the entire pilgrimage, I learned to slow down. A teacher from Australia named Teresa, on a day with pouring rain, told me to “appreciate every moment and capture it with a picture. You will never see this again.”  One of my favorite experiences was walking into a local celebration.  I had been walking rather slowly that day and ended up catching up to a crowd of people singing and playing music. Flowers decorated the street in beautiful patterns.  I wish I could say most people learned to slow down and enjoy the moment, but people do not always need to or can not. As June said, “Once I get going I need to keep going”.

Our class’s guardian angel, an ever so positive and caring woman turning 70 from the Netherlands described el Camino De Santiago as “the road to Heaven. Straight to heaven”.  A fundamental issue to leaving early is to be missing out on the Camino experience: seeing the beautiful landscapes and participating in the culture of meeting other pilgrims and bonding.  For me the Camino is meeting other people and hearing their stories.

“What was one of the highlights from your Camino?” I asked a 39 year old man from Atlanta, Georgia. At first, his response surprised me. “It was an open air, cold water, mattress on the floor…” I stopped him. I clarified “highlight, not lowlight…” He continued “but it was an abandoned castle with the walls still up, with a communal dinner, yoga, and as I woke up once at night I could see thousands and thousands of stars. It was beautiful, and bonding for all of us.”

What does it take for an albergue to create this bond amongst pilgrims? I asked an Australian man the same question, and he responded with the same location, the abandoned castle of San Antón along the French route. I was surprised, as his first explanation included the no roof, no electricity, no cell service and cold showers as well. He elaborated and said “there was this overwhelmingly calm aura about the ruins – almost as though they were protecting the pilgrims sleeping inside.”

Dinner at Casa Fernanda.
Author is second from left.

Along the Portuguese route, Casa Fernanda created a similar bond amongst the pilgrims that stayed there. The communal dinner, the encouragement of sharing, singing, and especially dancing created warm feelings of closeness. With a few glasses of vino verde, some boldness on the host’s part to get the party going, with the help of 8 energetic young Americans, a bond was created between a Danish couple, a German couple, a Dutch woman, an American couple and a California woman. Throughout the rest of the trip there remained a friendship and excitement between our groups.

The sweet memories pilgrims have created in albergues made me wonder what an albergue of my own would be like.  If I were to open my own, I would definitely try to take aspects from these positive experiences and memories from other albergues. Some of the necessities are a communal meal, intentional conversations, an open atmosphere and perhaps singing and dancing with some drinks can’t hurt. Something that the best ones seem to have in common is being “donativo”, that is, donation based. This seems to create a warmer, less industrial feel to an albergue.

Besides a social environment, there was also a good example for outward appearances with one place along the Portuguese route. From one albergue called Ninho, it was beautifully decorated and a cute environment. The wood, homey feel, and architecture made it feel like I was staying in a home and not simply staying at the bare minimum along the Camino. Part of the experience is the look of the place, but as taken from San Antón it is not everything. I think the biggest thing you can contribute with an albergue is a welcoming and homey environment, filled with warmth, laughter, and a shared experience to bond the pilgrims. After long days of walking, all that takes is a good meal, safe place to sleep, and perhaps one or two people taking the lead to be open and share in conversation.

No need to buy water, water fountains are available alone the Camino of St. James

I took shelter under an awning, four miles outside of O Porriño. The rain was soaking through my tattered poncho as I sat eating from a jar of peanut butter with my finger. I’d skipped breakfast that morning in an attempt to beat the storm, but as the clouds gathered and the drops began to fall I saw the vanity of my efforts, deciding to stop for an ad hoc snack. An elderly Spanish couple tottered down the staircase next to me, and as they passed by the woman joked that I looked like I could use something other than my finger with which to eat my peanut butter. “Necesitas un cuchillo o algo. (You need a knife or something.) No debes usar sus dedos. (You shouldn’t use your fingers.) No eres salvaje. (You’re not a savage.)” I returned to my snack with a chuckle, and probably wouldn’t have remembered the interaction at all had that same woman not two minutes later tapped me on the shoulder and offered me a spoon with which to eat, as well as a paper towel and several cookies that she had gathered from her home just up the street. Rusty with my Spanish, my gratitude was transmitted through my eyes. “No pase nada (Don’t worry about it),” she said. She then planted a quick kiss on my cheek and took off down the road, arm-in-arm with her husband.

These moments — these selfless acts of giving — are fundamental to the construction of the unique feeling of comradery and belonging that one feels as a pilgrim on the Camino, a brand of Victor Turner’s communitas that thrives on the tortuous trails to Santiago. Charity abounds: be it the woman who nightly opens her home to strangers, providing food, song, and dance at no cost to them; or, the family who facilitates a self-serve lemonade stand on their driveway for pilgrims; or, market goers and shop owners who give those walking the Camino better places in line; or, the unknown benefactor who leaves candy at one of the many complementary pilgrim water stations. The culture of giving on the Camino is integral to the atmosphere of unity, equality, and compassion that so defines the Camino experience, an atmosphere that Turner and others have come to call “communitas.”

The charity a pilgrim experiences along The Way often comes from external sources, like those benevolent community members mentioned above who live or work along the Camino route. But just as common is the tendency of pilgrims to give to others who walk alongside them. It’s typical for pilgrims to share not just polite conversation, but also food, medical supplies, and invaluable advice about how to best tackle the miles to come. As Hannah, a 20-something year old woman from London recalls, “I’m a walking charity case. I came here far less prepared than I thought I was. My camouflage bucket hat you see here, my hiking poles, my earbuds — all given to me by kind strangers I met along The Way.”

Donativo, means donation based. Food, drink, lodging, and other goods may be offered to pilgrims and only a donation asked in return.

Not all gifts a pilgrim may receive while on the Camino are quite as tangible as the hiking gear that Hannah received. Sometimes, the biggest gifts may come after a pilgrim has left the trails behind. Molly and her friend Dan, for example met while walking the French route together five ago, in 2013, and have kept in contact ever since. They made a pact to walk the Portuguese route together in 2018. Their plans were complicated when Dan was diagnosed with ALS a year before he was set to walk again with Molly. Too weak to walk himself, Molly now has dedicated her second Camino to him. “I walk now with two passports: one for me, and one for my friend. I plan to give his to him after I finish the Portuguese route. I hope seeing all the stamps (given by hostels and restaurants) from this journey will give him strength in his fight against the illness.”

So many walk the Camino for themselves, expecting the journey to bring them closer to God, offer them insight into a dilemma, or just to provide a photo-worthy adventure. It’s imperative we remember that each of these opportunities for self-improvement on the Camino, while important and valid, is only possible because of the charity of someone else.  On the Camino de Santiago there is a tendency to give selflessly to those around you.

A home along the Camino set up a free water disperser and provided lemons to freshen the water.

The only thing harder than experiencing a miracle, is defining a miracle. In the medieval times, a miracle may spare your life from extreme predicaments. In Jean Lanham’s chapter titled “Camino Miracles” from the book The Lore of the Camino De Santiago, a miracle story was described in which an infertile couple walked the Camino de Santiago and asked St. James for a child. Their request was granted, and even after their son died, a request for his resurrection was fulfilled.

Today miracles on the Camino are not this extreme. And everyone I have spoken to has a different understanding of a miracle.  During an early walk on my Camino, a 69-year old, non-religious woman from the Netherlands defined a miracle as a serendipitous encounter. She described how she made a friend in her previous Camino trip, and she watched her friend find the love of her life on the last day of their walk. She elaborated that her friend found a man of the same age, ethnicity (German-polish), single, staying at the same hostel, and traveling on the same route.

Classmates with pilgrim friends from the Netherlands and South Africa

“Wow, it’s fate,” I thought out loud.

“No” she responded, “It was a miracle.”

She nicely wrapped up the conversation by saying, “If you look for miracles, you’ll see miracles.”

Later in my Camino, I spoke to a 45-year old, Catholic, Polish father who was pushing his two young children in a tandum stoller along the Camino. The father said that his Camino miracle was coincidentally finding a bike repair shop soon after breaking one of the stroller’s wheels. He attributed the location of that bike shop and the timing of its encounter to God. He smiled and looked back at his kids who were playing in the hostel’s patio.

However miracles are not always this concrete.  Another 60-year old, Catholic, Polish man said his Camino miracle is to simply be here.

Polish pilgrim friend

“Look at where we are,” he says to me as he points to eucalyptus trees. “This is beautiful. It’s a miracle we are here right now.”

His interpretation of a miracle is more abstract and does not align with the traditionalist/medieval view of miracles, but it’s insightful to listen to his take on it.

Although these were diverse and accepting definitions of miracles, a 57-year old Swiss woman I strolled with blatantly said that she does not believe in miracles. She admitted that she walks the Camino without a reason. She is not a firm believer of miracles and has never experienced one.

“I believe in God.” she said “and that’s good enough for me.”

This surprised me because she, as a spiritual person, contrasts to the popular medieval motivation that people walked the Camino to experience a miracle.

Chatting about miracles was less straightforward than it was in the medieval times. Miracles then were about being saved in times of death after praying to St. James, but miracles now are about feeling and seeing something unexplainable. It is about experiencing something that cannot be broken down scientifically or physically. Lastly, unlike the culture in the medieval times, miracles are not exclusive to pious people, rather anyone can partake in Camino miracles.

Whether it’s someone’s first Camino or they return to hike every year, people are often happy to share wisdom that they have gained while walking The Way.

Advice is freely given on the Camino

Lessons Learned: What Really Matters in Life

A pair of Polish sisters have walked the Camino around 10 times, for example, and tell me that The Camino is “humbling”. The younger sister in her thirties explains that “The Camino shows you that you don’t need a lot in life to be happy-just music, food and good company”. When she comes back home she often donates many of her things since she realizes that they aren’t necessary. “Other things are more important, like people, and what’s inside” she elaborates pointing to her heart.

She continues saying that the Camino teaches her how to be in the moment. She laughed, “If I see a bar I stop- I don’t know the next time I’ll see one!” She takes each day as it comes, seizes every moment, and allows herself to really take advantage of all of the beautiful moments while on the pilgrimage.

Lesson Learned: Love on the Camino

Another woman shared some advice with me as we walked. She is a southern Californian in her 60s and although this is her first Camino, she had already learned a huge travel lesson. “Don’t make travel plans with people you haven’t been dating for very long; don’t make plans too early”. After things didn’t work out with a man she had been dating for a while she wrestled with the awkward situation of having him come along on the trip as just a friend. Needless to say that things were a little rough and she wished that she would have just come alone.

I talked to one young Australian man who told me that love was the biggest component of his pilgrimage. He explains that the Camino “is all about love, loving yourself and loving others”. He says that traveling with five strangers for almost a month “requires a lot of respect”, especially when you learn about all of their quirks and have to sort out opposing opinions. He also learned about “what it means to be a young Catholic person in modern days” since “it’s not cool to be religious” and most of his friends aren’t. As he prepares to become his niece’s godfather, he figured that he needed to learn more about his faith so he could know the answers that she would one day ask as a young Catholic herself.

Lesson Learned: Lean into Discomfort

48 yr. old Camino friend

One of my favorite conversations was with a 48 year old man from Northern California. He stressed that “life begins outside your comfort zone” and that “it’s hard to learn about life from the warmth of your house”. It is when people put themselves in challenging situations that “you have to have faith in yourself, have faith in your abilities, and have faith in other people’s kindness”. Doing so allows people to learn more about themselves and grow into a more self-actualized individual.

All in all, I have enjoyed hearing the words of wisdom from fellow pilgrims as well as learning lessons of my own. I am thankful for being able to hike this journey, meet amazing people along the way, and apply the lessons that I have learned to my life once back home from pilgrimage.

As far as introductions go, those along the Camino de Santiago are simple, consisting of each person’s name and country of origin. Along The Way, I was “Reem from the United States.” With this I was surprised to learn that as an American, most pilgrims were fascinated to learn about my thoughts on Donald Trump and the entire Trump administration. This interest may stem from the disastrous nature of the current administration, or simply from other nation’s engrossment with American pop culture and politics. Regardless, the Trump inquiries followed me along the Camino. So, in an attempt to turn the tables, I decided to ask pilgrims along the Camino about their thoughts on President Trump and the United States, in general.

Der, from Ireland, has lunch with us our first day on the Camino

One of my first Camino friends,“Der from Ireland,” an engineer for an American pharmaceutical company and an American history buff, walked along the Way with me and discussed American politics. I brought up the Trump administration and Ireland’s view of the president and he simply laughed. According to Der, the majority of people see the president in a negative light. He explained to me that various American corporations, including the pharmaceutical company he works for, receive tax benefits by occupying headquarters in Ireland. These companies also simultaneously boost the Irish economy and employ many Irish citizens. Trump’s campaign promises to lower taxes in the U.S. will greatly affect the Irish economy when American companies relocate back to the U.S., leading Ireland to lose foreign investment. Thus, the Irish are not big fans of the Trump administration and its future plans. Der added, “Americans are smart. They sent people to the moon, for heaven’s sake.” But, he slyly implied that Trump’s election was a poor choice made by the “smart” Americans.

A Spanish man in his 40s called Trump an “economic dictator” focused only on elevating America’s world status, rather than the wellbeing of the nation. He emphasized that it was quite a shock to the Spanish population when such a man was elected. After voicing his disapproval of Trump, he said, “I miss Obama and wish he ran for another term” and “I hope Michelle runs in 2020,” which both came as a surprise to me. I did not expect him to be so up to date with American politics and to support the former president so freely. Ironically, we had this discussion the day the Spanish President was ousted from office.

While discussing the newly impeached Spanish President and inauguration of the leader of the Spanish socialist party as the new Prime Minister of Spain, a 25 year old British woman asked me when I thought Trump would be impeached. She even went on to ask if I thought he would be assassinated. I did not know how to answer these questions other than to say, “With Trump gone, we get Pence, and we don’t want that.” She told me she believes that Spain’s government issues are a foreshadowing of problems brewing in the U.S. Regardless, I was genuinely intrigued by all the parallels pilgrims were drawing between the failing Spanish government and America’s government.

A German woman in her 60s shared with me that “Germans do not like Trump because Merkle does not like him.” She elaborated that when Angela Merkel, the German Chancellor, went to the White House to meet President Trump, he refused to shake her hand. Following, the entire German nation went “crazy” and since then has greatly disliked the U.S. President. They feel Trump’s insecurity and need to appear powerful are what kept him from shaking Merkel’s hand, and this mentality makes him a poor leader.

Author with her German pilgrim friend

Along the Way, I found it very interesting that so many international people were concerned with American politics, gossip, and the Presidential Administration. I learned that it can be a little uncomfortable to ask about Trump and American politics, especially as someone who is not particularly fond of him or his work. But, ultimately, discussing politics was a nice way to connect with pilgrims on the Camino and learn how our government affects their country. I was asked a few times whether or not Trump might be elected for a second term. I imagine it will be interesting to discuss the upcoming U.S. election/re-election in 2020 on the Camino.