The right way to choose?

by Mariela Valkova (Bulgaria)

Making a local connection Spain

It was the fourteenth day of the Camino. The rain was pouring down as if the sky had opened above us. My friend and I were walking down to Santander. It was one of those days in which we were eager to get in a blink of an eye to the next albergue. We were hungry and tired and my feet were killing me again because of the huge blisters which had become corns. We got to a fork in the road and a wooden beautifully carved two-headed sign. One of the heads whispered “to the romantic church” and the other one was tempting us “to the albergue”. Ham, which one to choose? We were starving and exhausted… And then the curiosity won! We headed to the church… It was the 25th of July, the Day of Saint James. The day of the pilgrimage and the day all pilgrims cheered their decision to start the Camino. The mass was about to start. Many people were coming by car and gathering in the interior of the church. The truth was that we were not only driven by the curiosity towards that place. Actually, we wanted to get another stamp in our pilgrim’s booklets! The priest showed behind the white curtains of the altar and welcomed us joyfully. He was an elderly man, around his 80s, white-haired, with huge brown vivid eyes and a grin was stamped on his face. An infinite kindness and goodness emanated from him. My friend and I though the same, “If God had a human embodiment, so, it was Him! We’ve just met God!” Oh, that feeling was so strong! I presented myself. Then he started a chat, “Where are you from? Are you a pilgrim? Please, you are more than welcome to the mass. Today I’ll be talking about pilgrims, cause it’s a special day today, the Day of the Apostle!” We kindly rejected with some stupid excuse and after getting the stamps, we sneaked through the door. The voices of the ladies singing came to us, then the gentlemen joined the choir and they sang all together. It was a great celebration, indeed! Two hours later, just on time for lunch, we got to the albergue – our final destination for the day. They offered us a glass of water and seated us on a common table. The lunch was delicious, we didn’t expect such a warm welcoming. Suddenly, a familiar voice came behind my back, “Hello, fugitives! Well, you made it for lunch, ah?” Startled, I turned back. It was Him! The priest from the church! “This is my place.” he said, “If you had stayed on mass I would have driven you here afterwards.” “But that is cheating.” my friend cried. “No, it is not cheating! It doesn’t matter the way you walk the Camino, the important thing is to walk it. To walk is to live.” I felt deeply embarrassed and the shame planted a seed in my mind. Next year I went back, as a volunteer, to pay for that misunderstanding. I wanted to learn how to walk…