Ultreia!

In my Pilgrim's Passport, the word 'Ultreia' is written on the stamp of the first Albergue I slept in on the Camino. The hospitaleiro told me that this very old word means to go onward and upward, in the sense that one should never give up.  It was a word used by pilgrims of old not only to greet each other but also to encourage one another.

As I walked the days away, I thought about this word many times and the resilience of the human spirit.

In the early days of this journey, I noticed an older gentlemen that had no use of his right hand, perhaps due to a stroke. He kept his hand in a glove at all times and walked the route with some difficulty and at a slow pace, carrying a backpack.

A younger pilgrim, born with a deformed left arm which he can not use at all would pass me at a much faster pace, despite my early starts.

On my way to O'Cebreiro, during some steep climbs, I see a man wearing a built up shoe on his left foot for his left leg is much shorter than his right one.

And in Alberto's Albergue, I read a newspaper clipping of a Canadian pilgrim, who lost her full left leg when she was 13 years old due to an accident.  On crutches and carrying a backpack weighing 8 kilogram she walked 700 kilometer to reach Santiago.

Even if one does not have a physical disability, resilience is needed on the Camino to persevere when feeling tired, discouraged or alone; or when the new day is yet another grey and wet one.

Before leaving South Africa, I visited my home doctor to stock up on some medication that I might need.  As I am about to leave her rooms, she reminds me that the Lord has many angels who will watch over me on this journey, and like so many time to come, I was lost for words.

Once such angel was Emil, a 79 year old pilgrim, with whom I struggled to keep up. Originally from Slovenia, the family immigrated to Argentina when he was a teenager. He and his Spanish wife have been living in Madrid for over two decades.  When he speaks Spanish, people ask him if he is from Argentina. When I comment about it, he looks at me a bit puzzled and asks if I don't notice the difference in accents? I laugh It all just sound Spanish to me!  We walked together on and off over a couple of days and we talked about so many things, including General Tito and the Slovak countries. He has a good sense of humour and we laughed the kilometers away. 

When I reach the Albergue just before darkness, completely drenched from walking in stormy weather for 11 hours and feeling very sorry for myself, I ask for a hot chocolate to try and warm myself.  The young man behind the counter pours the milk and tells me it is nice and hot.  He speaks the words with such tenderness that I struggle to keep my emotions at bay.  He puts a bottle of cognac on the counter and tells me to use as much as I need.  Hot chocolate has never tasted this good!  When I pay the bill, the cognac is not charged for and before I could ask, he smiles and gestures that it is on him.

As I pass through the small village, an old lady walks leaning over her walking stick. She is dressed in blue pants, rubber boots that come up to her knees and a thick woollen jersey. Over this, she wears a sleeveless dress - perhaps in keeping with the old custom that women should not be seen in pants.  And she has a headscarf tied under her chin.  I try to follow the example of Cesar, a Brazilian pilgrim, to greet all people I pass by - some do not answer.  As I greet her, she turns to look at me and the most tender Buen Camino! is said with the warmest of smiles. My low spirits are restored.

Indeed the Lord has many angels, some stayed longer than others, but all gave me something that I needed at that moment, whether it was something to eat, words of encouragement, a smile, a lesson, a reminder of the human spirit.

And to help me along, onward and upward, until the journey is completed.

Buen Camino!

Jovita 

24 October 2013