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.

Soulmates on the Camino

Sitting in a cafe along the Camino Portugués with a good friend met mere hours ago, I think how this world is full of soulmates of all different kinds. Romantic or not, strong connections form when you find part of yourself in another, something that happens along the Camino with seemingly great frequency.

Maybe part of this can be attributed to similarities in the type of people inclined to venture out onto the Camino, but, undoubtedly, the Camino itself fosters an environment where boundaries between people are broken down and vulnerability and connection become easier than the so-called “real world.”

In the winding paths that can feel worlds and centuries apart from traditional bounds of society, those on the Camino are not separated by our ages, nationalities, jobs, or status–everyone is a pilgrim. This is the communitas that Victor Turner writes is a product of liminality, where the Camino exists in a world with its own rules.

Constance, a 69-year old Dutch woman who has walked the Camino seven times alone, considers the people she has met the most important part of her Camino, and notes, “Age makes no difference. You can spend only a day with someone on the Camino and make a great friend.”

These friendships made possible by the Camino are enduring. There’s Nola, an Australian woman in her 80s who made such good friends on the French route that they all returned  8 years later to walk the Camino Portugués. Jian, a young South Korean woman, walks with the passport of an older man she met on the Camino five years ago who is too sick to join her this time around. She began the Portuguese route walking in silence with a young man from Lisbon. They were separated by language, but soon became inseparable.  As time passed he would answer questions for her when she could not find the words.

On the Camino there is a unique spirit of openness, where people are free to ask near-strangers questions unfathomable outside of the Camino–and receive honest and vulnerable answers. Not even an hour into our conversation, a British woman turns to me and asks, “Are you in love?”

People divulge their fears, hopes, failures, and loves. Alfonso, an older Christian missionary who opens his home to pilgrims, calls the Camino “one big confessional.”

Mike, a South African grandpa, compares this spirit to those he’s seen in endurance races. When everyone is struggling, their boundaries are torn down and everyone is suddenly down in the mud together, helping each other. This reminds me of Commonweal, a cancer treatment center near San Francisco where patients come together to heal (not cure) as part of a community. There, group discussions and sharing burdens plays an important role in healing. “It is our woundedness that allows us to trust each other,” comments the director.

Constance jokes that people on the Camino are cut from the same cloth, who understand and accept you, not just “the saintly parts.”

There are many types of people who come on El Camino de Santiago, with diverse experiences and backgrounds. Yet, something brings all these pilgrims together.  A concept we learned in class was communitas.  Communitas is defined as a feeling of warmth and unity in a group that leaves behind the roles and hierarchies of everyday life.  Beyond the structure of paths leading from many points in Europe towards Santiago and the commercial aspect of the Camino, very little structure is imposed on pilgrims. There is a unique interplay between the pilgrim community and individuality on the Camino.  Trudging on through rain or shine for most of the day made me exhausted, but I was always happy to greet another pilgrim on their journey.  Similar to the use of “fight on” on the USC campus and around the world with fellow Trojans, the well wishing phrase of “buen camino” is used in greeting, good bye, and sometimes with irony.

Each day you meet new people. There is an odd feeling knowing you may never see these amazing people again. Even with the digital age, I felt awkward asking for their contact information.  It felt like an invasion of the Camino self and a distraction from the pure interactions on the Camino. Keeping up with their lives and manufactured profiles seemed to take away from their pilgrim selves you met on the Camino.

As an active older woman named Constantine from the Netherlands said, “The Camino is people.”  This sentiment was repeated often throughout my journey.  A British woman named Olive was expecting to meet few people, or at least walk by herself mostly intentionally. However, as she walked she “learned to enjoy walking and meeting people.”  Two women from Norway described the Camino as “all a new experience, but it is good. Everything in life is good when you are meeting people”.

While walking with Bill and Jennifer, a Canadian First Nation individual about to enter architecture school and an upcoming anesthesiologist respectively,  I noticed the comfort of walking with others in silence.  Even while walking with others, I was alone with my thoughts.  There is a beautiful balance on the Camino of being together and a respect for each other’s personal time, particularly since many do the pilgrimage for reflection: whether spiritually, religiously, or to make life choices.

One day I met a German woman named Stephanie who did not enjoy her work as a pharmaceutical quality control officer, seemed like she was going through a midlife crisis. After several hours of meaningful conversation, she kindly said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but after we stop at this cafe I will continue on alone”.  After a long day of talking with a retired Australian school teacher named Jan, she hinted that she wanted to be alone when she said, “I’ll let you have the next 6 kilometers to yourself.  I don’t want to hold you back any longer.”

Hiking to Muxia, I met a man in his 40s from Norway who managed to get 11 weeks off from his job in the health profession.  He had spent the past few days walking with a group of 25 South Africans he could not avoid.  They were loud and rambunctious, and he felt the group aspect at that size “takes away from the Camino”.  But then he went on to talk about great things the pilgrim community has done.  He had stayed in a hostel that fit 60 people, all donation based with dinner and breakfast, built in 2003 to accommodate pilgrims who wished to help clean up an oil spill from 2002.  Apparently there are other hostels like this, and I think it is inspiring that as a community, pilgrims gave back and cleaned up the environment rather than continue on their way.

Author contemplates a sunset at the end of the world, Finesterre

Overall, the Camino brings people together while also letting them have their alone time to contemplate life.

Meal with pilgrim friends

People from all over the world come to walk the Camino, each having their own traditions, culture, and language. Sometimes you’ll easily connect with someone over a shared background or experience, while other times a language barrier or aversion to meeting new people may leave distance between pilgrims. In these times especially, music (be it singing, humming, or playing an instrument) creates a welcoming environment and engagement that anyone can experience.

Our first night of the Camino, we found ourselves in San Pedro de Rates — the albergue was filled with exhausted pilgrims traveling from far and wide, many massaging their feet and trying to alleviate various aches and pains. The volunteer working the desk eagerly asked if anyone knew how to play the guitar — when I answered yes, she excitedly brought it out and asked if we could play something that everyone could sing together. With a makeshift pencil capo, we launched into a classic rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” Almost instantly, other pilgrims stopped what they were doing, and many came from other rooms to listen or join in. For those few minutes, we were all able to come together in song, smiling and focusing on joy and connection rather than the pain of the day’s walk.

A few nights later, we were fortunate enough to stay at Casa Fernanda, a private, intimate albergue run by Maria and her family. We shared a meal with people from Portugal, Denmark, the Netherlands, Germany, and parts of the US. After dinner, the guitar came out once again — despite our different ages, languages, and backgrounds, we all sang together. Maria and her husband even shared a piece of their culture, performing traditional Fado songs. We all left Casa Fernanda with our bellies and hearts full, bonded together by one beautiful night of song, dance and wine. For the remainder of our Camino, we maintained close relationships with the other Casa Fernanda guests.

Music on the Camino doesn’t always have to be a grand performance like these, however. One rainy morning, I was walking alone, humming John Denver’s Country Roads to myself to pass the time. Up ahead, an older man slowed and began to sing the words out loud with me. When we finished, I asked him where he was from, and in as much English as he could muster, he told me that he was from South Korea and always loved John Denver. We couldn’t really communicate past that as we didn’t speak each other’s languages, but for just a few moments we shared an experience and connection that neither of us will forget. Although walking the Camino sometimes feels exhausting and lonely, I always cherish the times where just for a few special moments with music creates a connection and gives us all a reason to smile.

Saint James dressed as the Pilgrim to Santiago with the shell on his hat.

While walking the Camino de Santiago I asked pilgrims about what they knew of the history of the Camino. I assumed that in medieval times people knew the story of St. James (his preaching, his martyrdom and the transfer of his body by his followers). Today I found few pilgrims who knew the sacred legends of the Camino.

Now, when asking people about their knowledge of the history or roots of the Camino, the answer rarely extends beyond “Saint James walked this route!”. Or as one 26 year old British woman said “I don’t know anything at all about the history of the Camino, besides that in England it’s called the Way of Saint James.” She also added one piece of knowledge that Compostela means “field of stars”.

It’s curious that although the rates of people doing the Camino have gone up thousands every year recently, the majority of pilgrims I’ve talked to so far know the bare minimum, or nothing at all about the sacred history of St. James. From 278,232 pilgrims receiving their compostelas in 2016 to 301,036 in 2017, it is clear that the tally will be even higher at the end of 2018. This leads me to wonder at the marketing, the reasons people are walking the Camino, and what their thoughts of the Camino are. Is the structure and form of the Camino changing. Because what is the Camino, besides the people that are walking it? What matters more, takes precedent for identity, the thousands of pilgrims walking, or the reason for the walk in the first place?

Only one pilgrim, a 38 year old American man, knew about the history of the Camino. He knew the roots in Catholicism, that it was through the church and semi-recently the European Union has popularized the Camino. He knew that St. James’ remains are supposed to be at the end, and that his followers brought him.

Besides that, there was a shocking lack of common knowledge on the history of the Camino, the history of the “moor slayer” (which no one had heard about) and the original rules and reasons surrounding the Camino.

St. James in his guise as the Moor slayer in the church in Tui. The legend says that St. James was invoked in a battle against the Moors in the Spanish crusades. St. James appeared on a white horse in the clouds and led the troops to a victory.

However, one 40 year old American woman from Washington DC said that while visiting Fatima the tour guide told her about the Camino and described it as a “spiritual journey”. Perhaps this is the essence of the Camino, and the most important aspect that one needs to know coming into it. It is a journey of self, a reflective experience that ties one to the Camino whether or not the reasons or knowledge are the same as they were a thousand years ago.

We are getting ready for the first ever class to hike the Camino de Santiago in Portugal, Camino Portuguese.

Maymester Class 2018 hiking 7.5 miles to Henninger flats in Altadena. Trying out the new boots.

Our class will begin in Lisbon, take the train to Porto and walk 120 miles to Santiago and beyond to the End of the World (Finesterre, Spain).  First we have monthly classes, quizzes, exams, fieldtrips to hike and study alternative religious practices, and finally a May 18 departure.

About five minutes after leaving Leon on my first day of pilgrimage, I can across a

message spray-painted on the wall of an abandoned house: “El Camino real es

internal [The real Camino is internal].”

Seeing this prompted me to be on the lookout for other graffiti messages during the rest

of my Camino. Scrawled on road signs, painted on rocks and road markers, spray-painted

onto walls—they were everywhere.

“Past and future are fruits of your mind. “

Most of these were short, encouraging, and vaguely spiritual; intended to bolster

morale or give advice. (For example, “Let the wisdom of uncertainty guide you;” “Your

blisters will heal, but the friends you make will last a lifetime;” or simply “keep going!”

There were a few explicitly religious messages, which increased in frequently as I

approached Santiago. These included specific Bible verses, prayers to St. James, and

advice to “Pray and Chill.” Then there were the more humorous pieces: for example,

“Don’t write on the road signs!” written on a road sign. Finally, there was artwork: the

rarest category, which ranged from a smiley-face spray-painted onto a stop sign to

elaborate murals along the walls. In Sarria, there was a lengthy painting of shells,

silhouetted pilgrims, scenery from the route, and faces of historically-significant

individuals from Camino history. As Sarria is one of the most common starting points for

pilgrims, this piece served to welcome them, impart the history of the Camino, and give

them a sneak preview of the road that awaits them.

Another mural (spotted in a small town near Ambasmestas) consisted of several

stylized figures in a row, painted to look as if they were walking the Camino with us. The

group was led by a traditionally-dressed pilgrim, followed by major gods and goddesses

from other religions. This seemed to be a commentary on how the Camino attracts

pilgrims from all faiths and creeds, and has perhaps transcended its religious roots to

become something more.

The Camino is famous for its “community”—much has been said about the

friendliness and camaraderie that develops between pilgrims as they walk. But graffiti

goes beyond that, and forms a bond between people who have never met and probably

never will. Those who leave these messages behind leave more than words—they leave

advice, spirituality, and, most importantly, a community, that unites pilgrims not just with

the artist/authors, but with each other. The Camino graffiti doesn’t just offer encouragement and insight, but lets us walk up to another pilgrim and start a conversation just by asking

“Did you see that funny graffiti back there”?