Palas de Rei/ Melide

Dear Family and Friends
You can always count on the "universe" to balance things out lest I get lost in Wonderland. Humbling days are tough days - for ego sensibilities - the burning of which is necessary to get to the heart of the soul- but none-the-less painful. I have learned to beware of strong reactions - they lead to a wounded place calling out for healing. I still seared with indignation at the high cost of a humble room. It's tenaciousness made me aware of how attached I am to beautiful surroundings, provoked by the anticipation of what was to come knowing the cost beforehand. The magnificence of nature through which I walked was obviously not enough. I wanted it all.
I was humbled when Suzie ( my French Canadian friend) told me that a group of elders from France was walking the camino - at least one was 83. In earlier days they were transported by vehicle part of the way, after Sarria, they were walking on their own power - and they were staying in albergues! That small crack in my resolve to stay in hostals and pensiones was wretched open by this piece of information. (Now I did learn tonight that this elderly woman fell in the middle of the night and my friend Vered ( from Holland) tried to help her up and the woman was so stubborn and determined she wanted to stay on the floor. Vered did manage to get her back to her bed...life certainly is not dull on the camino).
Another thing I have learned about strong reactions is that it is seldom the thing that provokes the reaction that is the source. Search a little deeper and you can often find the real cause of the reaction. One gift of walking the camino is that you cannot avoid such things with busyness. The fact that such a situation triggered my Scottish sensibilities was a key. My father died 42 years ago tomorrow - and there have been rumblings on this journey that there is still work to do there. Here I cannot ignore my body- the signals that come when I follow that initial reaction - the heaviness of heart, the deep sadness.... feelings that something that is not quite right with the world. And so I walk - one step in front of the other allowing the messages deep inside my body a chance to speak.
Another humbling lesson is that of language. When I arrived at my Pension yesterday I stated like I usually so in my limited Spanish "reserv(b)a. and I got a barrage of Spanish back. "No Spanish! Completo! (full). I managed to spit out enough Spanish words that he eventually processed my reservation and gave me the keys to my room, but my ego was definitely bruised and I did not feel welcomed after a long walk. All the Spanish people had been so gracious this far. (I did learn that an Australian couple last week and another Canadian from Victoria (also last night) also experienced the same thing- and she speaks Spanish.
However, there is another side to this story. I have met/walked and talked at length with several young Spanish men - all in English so they can practice their English. I recogniZed that this rude and obstreperous man was giving me the invitation and perhaps the motivation should I choose to accept- that I could try a little harder to learn Spanish.
The path yesterday and today are beautiful rolling hills, interesting little villages, trickling Brooks and sunshine. There is a breeze and nip in the air- definitely fall, but beautiful.
The numbers on the path keep increasing. Spanish people are in the majority. But your heart goes out to them - you can see that many of them are hurting. Their bodies have so little time to adjust to the rigors of walking when they are soon at their destination. One young Spanish man with whom I walked with yesterday was having similar problems that I had. I shared some of what I learned about thin socks, tying the boot higher etc. You could see his resistance to what I said - a bit like his mother telling him. However, he had over 30km to do today. I saw him as I arrived into Melide and he was delighted with his day so far. He had on thin socks and tied his boot higher. I had to chuckle to myself. I hope he has a Buen Camino all the way to Santiago.
Another group that is moving through the Camino like the babyboomers are in time, is a class from highschool. It has a similar feel to me as our kids when they went through the Trek outdoors program in grade 10. They definitely bring another energy to the path. I spoke with two of them waiting to use the loo. They had both studied in the US for several months and spoke very good English. They and most Spanish are astounded when you respond that you started in France. Those of us seem to be swallowed up here.
So until tomorrow in Arzua- if I have internet. Goodnight. Heather.
Melide is famous for it's Pulpo- boiled octopus with Paprika and olive oil -like I had in O Cebreiro. I went with Vered and Chris, a woman I just met from Victoria. It was a lovely evening. We will have another short day tomorrow to Arzua, famous for a special soft cheese.