Ready, toast, jam, coffee, nutella on cookies, OJ, wrap Olya's poor, blistered foot. Unwrap it and rewrap it because even if I feel like a nurse, I have not been trained at all in wrapping feet not too tight. Our walk begins as the sun is on the rise. Ukulele strumming mimics the march of our feet.
The first town we stop in, we meet up with David and Dennis. We have a long stretch ahead, so we energize at the café on the outside plastic patio. Olya treats me to a coffee and half her giant bocadillo (sandwich) of egg and Spanish ham. I study the guide book as if preparing for a quiz.
Onward.
The path is invaded by wildflowers and occasional weeds that prick my fingers. I chat with Lainey until our first picnic area stop.
For whatever reason, this particular stop is where members of our group take turns asking me questions about my past in missions, my present in prep, and my future vision. I'm not one to talk about myself often; I prefer to ask the questions. This trip is teaching me to share myself as well.
We continue on. Dennis and I walk together for a large portion of the stretch. We have a lot in common when it comes to how we prefer to invest our money and our innate interest in knowing other nations and people groups. His experience in this surpasses mine as does his age. Hopefully, I'll have seen as much as him by the time I reach the same amount of years old.
We come to another bar to stop. I ordered a Crema de Orujo (creamy liquor) on ice for Lainey and I to split since we both enjoyed it when we both tried it the previous evening. Lainey orders a pineapple-mango smoothie for us to share, but were all disappointed by. Likely made with a powder rather than fresh fruit. At least we know now.
Onward again. I plugged into headphones to have some me-time as we walked. As an introvert, I have to make time to be "alone" for an hour or so today so that I can come back to be eagerly social after a recharge. An hour and so passes and I am feeling ready to get back into conversations. Individuals of our group is all walking within 5 feet of each other. I keep my headphones in, but lower the volume to feel a part of the conversation. A little time later I turn the music off and fully engage.
Lainey acknowledges my return to the social dimension.
We reach Mansilla, but it takes another 20min to actually reach the city center.
On our way in, a little Dachshund that looked much like our Obadiah back in Penryn, CA came up to say hello to all of us. I held him and he attacked me with kisses galore (just like Oby would). After the kisses subdued, he returned to his mechanic shop.
I was basically out of money again. Maybe 0.50€ in my wallet? Am I going let God take care of it? Or am I going to let my bank take care of it? I am a firm believer in free will. I also know that no matter what I choose, God will honor it in some way or another. How much more do I want to experience His grace? How much more do I want to grow in this regard? Will I be able to grow in other ways if I feel financially comfortable and carefree? Things to consider. A few towns before I had already transferred money from my credit card to my debit in case a need should a dire need arise. Why am I even sharing this?
1) This blog is also for me. To remember moments, people, and circumstances--that's why I'm treating it more like a journal.
2) I'm having to make very adult decisiones about money that I haven't had to make before. I've grown up in a culture where most people live their lives in debt. It's a financial norm. It's not something I really want for myself.
3) There's a happy ending
As we approached the small city of Mansilla, our final destination, I proposed to God, "If I see a bank, I'll know." I saw a bank, so that was my cue. New concerns have come up since relating to school, so it's nice to not to no longer worry about money as much.
A Catholic priest from India
A Catholic seminarist from Ohio
A mechanical engineer/world traveler from Ireland
A school teacher from originally from the Ukraine/currently from Brooklyn
A school teacher and wife from Missouri
A grad student and husband from Missouri
A Lynda from California
We enjoy each other's company immensely, and the plan for now is to stick together.
We stayed at municipal albergue run by a local family. Settle in, shower, laundry routine. I promised I'd make Mexican tortillas, so I got started on those right away at 3:00 since the communal kitchen would be crowded later on.
My masa started out too gummy, so I manipulated with some more flour and water and Chris kneaded it for me and made bolitas while I stretched them and cooled them in the pan. Teamwork. We only made around 20, but they turned out great. I also made some atole de arroz. When I added the cinnamon, the whole hostel filled with the sweet smell.
All ingredients I used in both the tortillas and the arroz were left by other pilgrims in the cupboard and fridge. Free.
I offered a cup of atole to the hospitalero. He didn't seem interested, but I think he gave it to his middle-age daughter.
Just as I was wrapping up and cleaning, the boys came back from running for groceries. They picked up ingredients Father Stanley would use to prepare curry chicken and rice. I used the hostel computer for school things I had to take care of, then they called me in for supper.
What a great moment as we shared the chicken curry, rice, tortillas, and three bottles of wine. All this divided 2.50€ each. Good eats, good drinks, good company.
Wine here is incredible. And cheap. Going back to overpriced Napa wine is going to be tough.
Dennis took care of dishes as some of us sat back to finish the wine and others went to mass. I dried and put dishes away.
We went up stairs--I, to grab my uke--and a very elderly French pilgrim (87+ y/o) tried his hardest to communicate to us in French. We got "banjo"--that's it.
Downstairs I played uke in the small courtyard as it started to rain. An Italian pilgrim requested Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours" and we sang together as a girl brushing her teeth tapped her toes along.
Social life is currently taking precedence on this trip. It's allowing for a new expression of God's love.
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