I've been traveling around Europe since May 10th and have settled in Büsingen, Germany until I meet up with a group from San Diego First Church of the Nazarene to go to a monastery in Taize, France on Sunday.
I wasn't planning to blog my whole trip, but I did want to write about a certain large piece of it. Starting on June 5th, along with two other friends, I started El Camino de Santiago. We started from St. Jean Pied de Port, France and walked 790km to Santiago, Spain. I thought with all that reflection time I would write a lot in my journal and come up with multiple blog posts to write when I finished. It turns out after walking 20 to 30km, you don't always feel like writing down what you thought about or experienced - sometimes because it was almost exactly the same as the day before, sometimes because you were too tired, and sometimes because you would rather go hang out with new friends. After walking the first week, I decided I would write something to post every ten days. I wrote two things meant to be posted; the trip took us 33 days. Nevertheless, here is the first one, and after I post the second one I'll still write more about the walk - it just won't be as in the moment.
A Ten Day Reflection. Friday June 14th, 2013 3:57 pm
After walking for ten days straight I've realized that my nonspecific expectation that the walk was going to be hard has been specified. The first day is said to be the most difficult because we hiked the Pyrenees mountains. And after we finished the first day I agreed, thinking "yeah, that's the hardest thing I've ever done." But it was also new and beautiful and exciting. The second, third and fourth day were painful. The fifth day was looking up, and by the sixth and seventh day I thought we were getting the hang of this thing. Though don't get my wrong, as of right now my blister count is around nine. Honestly, it's impressive how tore up my feet are. Day 8 brought misery. Thirty kilometers - the longest we have had to walk so far - and thirty degrees Celsius - the hottest it has been so far. By 12:30 we had 10km left, making good time, going into the hottest part of the day. And then we took a wrong turn with some Irish girls. To get a sense of how hot it was at this time: a small blister between my toes on my right foot soon became not so small and burst as I was walking. This was a first time experience. We ended up being lost for about two hours - walking at least an extra 6-8km. By the time we got to Najera (the town we were stopping in) it was 6pm. It was this day that my big toes lost most feeling and have yet to regain it.
During the painful, hot or just miserable days I find myself asking "Why am I doing this?" "Why am I getting up every day and walking at least 13 miles?" I tend to forget that I agreed to this in the fall, and blame it on the event(s) that occurred this last January in my home town and church. "You made me do this," I curse my former you pastor. "It's because of you that I need to walk 500 miles and figure out my life." But it's not - really, it's pretty perfect the timing of this trip. Like I said, I agreed to this last fall, before my world and faith were shaken.
Obviously this walk is a metaphor for life's journey. Getting lost in the heat the eighth day felt a lot like getting lost this last semester. I vividly remember a day in late January/early February, after a phone call from a friend from home, keeping me updated on what new information was coming out about the event. I walked into my empty apartment, set my Brothers Karamozov on the kitchen counter and cried. As I cried, I imagined myself slamming the book on the floor in anger. I didn't. I never actually throw things when I'm upset. But it was a similar feeling that came to me as we realized how far we had to back track to get on the right pat to Najera that day. Tears welled up in my eyes and as I heard Adilene tell me it was ok to cry, I saw myself breaking my stick against the hot ground in anger and frustration. But we made it to Najera - thirsty, sunburned, blistered, and sore. But we made it. I don't know if I've made it out of the lost feeling of the last semester yet, but I think I will.
More than the difficulty and pain of walking, it's been the kindness of the people you meet along the way that effects you. In our frustration on Day 2 of not being able to find room in a hostel, we were able to get a phone number of a hostel in the town before. The young woman who ran it drove the 5km to pick us up so we didn't have to walk back. She also happened to be a physical therapist and was able to tell me that my right lower back/hip hurt so badly because I had been unconsciously walking weird to take pressure off my knee after having surgery last August. She gave me a stretch to do multiple times a day and it has helped enormously. Whether it's been a group of people to talk with, eat with, laugh with, share your pain with, or feel encouraged with - all are found along the way. Days 9 and 10 have been shorter days, but day 11 is coming with a 27 km "hilly" hike. With any luck I'll regain some feeling in my big toes, but probably not.
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