What sets worlds in motion is the interplay of differences, their attractions and repulsions.

Life is plurality, death is uniformity.

By suppressing differences and pecularities, by eliminating different civilizations and cultures, progress weakens life and favors death.

The ideal of a single civilization for everyone, implicit in the cult of progress and technique, impoverishes and mutilates us.

Every view of the world that becomes extinct, every culture that disappears, diminishes a possibility of life.

- Octavio Paz

I do not want my house to be walled in on all sides and my windows to be stuffed. I want the cultures of all the lands to be blown about my house ...

... as freely as possible. But I refuse to be blown off my feet by any. - Gandhi

For this project, I interviewed three French people, an American, and an Englishwoman. Perhaps the most interesting part of the project for me was to observe the differences in their attitudes towards the hardships of the Camino. The three French people were much more interested in the social aspects of the pilgrimage, and the two who hiked on the Camino Frances in Spain were not satisfied at all with the Spanish part of their pilgrimage. Everyone told me that the pilgrimage in Spain is completely different from the pilgrimage in France. The three French people, truly, seemed far less willing to adapt themselves to different habits and attitudes. But, paradoxically, they were more interested in the community of the pilgrimage than the other two. The American had chosen to make the pilgrimage at a time when he was less likely to encounter other pilgrims, and the Englishwoman had not wanted companionship, either. And, she seemed farmore affected by the pilgrimage than the French and described more profound personal changes.

These attitudes towards the Camino illustrated, to me, the profound French need to separate religious life from secular life. The Chemin de St Jacques de Compostelle is no longer publicized by the church but rather by organizations like the Society of Friends of the Way of St James, who work voluntarily to increase awareness of and interest in the Chemin. (Although, interestingly enough, judges in Spain have been known to assign the Camino de Santiago in lieu of jailtime for certain petty crimes. Once again, the Spanish take the Camino de Santiago much more seriously.)

The road itself is part of the network of hiking trails that run through France. The various churches and shrines along the way are less holy sites than historical sites. Even the profoundly Catholic Monique needed to claim the religious artifacts on the Chemin as part of the patrimony, her historical heritage as French. It seems important that French interest in the Chemin increased greatly after it became a UNESCO historical site, as if it had become somehow more acceptable to make the pilgrimage as a historical or patrimonial experience rather than a religious quest.

However, despite the obvious differences, it is in some ways difficult to say that the pilgrim of today is vastly different from the pilgrim of the Middle Ages. The difference between a "pilgrim" and a "tourist" is necessarily somewhat obscure. Both leave their homes because they have a need. There are things they want to see, places to which they feel compelled to go. Whether these needs are motivated by God or by some inner personal call seems a semantic distinction. (However, this distinction was more necessary for the French pilgrims than for the others.)

It is also interesting to note that American pilgrims, in particular, talk about the feelings of depression and despondency that often happen when the pilgrim returns home. Pilgrim guidebooks and websites offer suggestions for working through the unhappiness when the pilgrim must return to his normal life. When I mentioned this to Monique, she was surprised that anyone would feel sad to finish the pilgrimage.
When I asked Anne why she thought that people chose to make the pilgrimage, she told me that "Each pilgrim is individually called by the Camino. The Way chooses us, as it has for centuries. We do not make that choice. And it is up to us today, as it was for pilgrims in the Middle Ages, to discover the reason for the call – now, as we walk the Chemin, or later, after we have returned home."

Prayer does not change God ...

... but it changes him who prays. - Soren Kierkegaard

The mother of my host mother introduced me to another former pilgrim, an Englishwoman who has lived in the tiny village of Mann for 12 years and who barely speaks a word of French. She made the pilgrimage to Compostela 8 years ago, after her husband died, and she would like to make it again during a Jubilee Year, when the Feast of St James falls on a Sunday.

Anne told me that she started her pilgrimage without any set idea of how to conduct herself. Like many pilgrims, she wanted to be open and to allow circumstances and surroundings dictate her choices. Although she is not Catholic, she said that she began to attend Mass whenever she could along the way. At each pilgrim mass along the Chemin, the priest reads the name and nationality of each pilgrim. She spent long hours in contemplation and prayer, and each religious symbol she saw infused her with a sense of the holy.

However, it was not only the churches and religious relics that had this power, for Anne. She said that the people she met, the different paths she walked, the sun, the rain, the trees, the natural world, all seemed holy to her. She said that she had begun the Chemin very angry, and that she needed the struggle of the pilgrimage to become humble.
Anne noticed that people began to wave at her as she passed along the road. « At first I wondered why », she said. « Then I realized that I wasn't a tourist, not even a stranger. I had been walking through their village for centuries, because I was a pilgrim. »
And she told me that, slowly, she began to see like a pilgrim. To see that everywhere she looked, in even the smallest town, there was not just a church, but a cathedral, a beautiful ornate structure that had taken generations to build. A father had laid the foundation, his son and his son's son had built the walls, and their children had put on the roof. Anne was struck by the power that emanated from these works of art, shrines built with love and dedication and belief. She told me that the best pilgrims learned how to travel light, help other pilgrims and not damage or hurt anything along the way.
I asked her what she had taken away from the pilgrimage, and she told me that she had rediscovered her joy and gratitude at being alive. She said that the hospitality of the pilgrim way produced a warm feeling of goodwill.

Once upon a time there was an old country, wrapped up in habit and caution

... We have to transform our old France into a new country and marry it to its time. - Charles de Gaulle

I spoke with a couple close to seventy years old, both doctors, who had made the pilgrimage together 4 years ago. They repeated many of the things that Janine had told me, and they said that the best thing about the Chemin was stopping at a gite or albergue and meeting the same people you started out with on the first day of hiking. Monique, who talked much more than her husband, told me a lot about the history of the Chemin, much of which I knew already, but it was interesting to observe how much the connection to history affected her. She is also a devout Catholic, and she was very moved not only by the many religious shrines along the Chemin but also, for example, by walking along the same road as Charlemagne and Roland had used in their fight against the Moors. It was very impressive for me to hear Monique and her husband describe historical events as though they had occurred yesterday. While Monique was telling me about the people from different countries they had met on the Chemin, her husband interrupted to tell me that he liked people from all countries, everywhere, except the English. He detested the English. When I asked him why, he leaned forward and looked at me very seriously. He said, very slowly, “Because the English, they burned Joan of Arc.”

Monique remembered a man who had started out from his home in the Netherlands; when they met him, he had already walked 1 000 kilometers. They also walked with people from Canada, Italy, Holland, Brazil, Germany, Sweden, Austria, and Australia. They still keep in contact with some of their friends from the pilgrimage. They also told me that most of the people who make the pilgrimage are more than 50 years old. One Canadian pilgrim celebrated his 70th birthday in Santiago, and there was a couple who had 80 years making the pilgrimage, also.

They both complained bitterly about the rhythm of the Spanish day. A typical day has you loading your pack at 6 in the morning and beginning the trail while it is still dark. Rest stops occur midmorning, wherever you can fill your water bottle and buy a cup of coffee or a sandwich. After the midmorning break, you walk for the rest of the day, stopping for brief rests, for lunch, or to take care of your feet. It took about 8 hours to reach the next village, meaning that they usually arrived in a village at the moment when the entire village shut down for siesta, and it was necessary to wait several hours to buy food and water for the next day. They were also frustrated because the Spanish, habitually, do not dine until 10 o’clock at night. But they discovered many restaurants that offered a special Menu de Peregrino starting at 8 o’clock, and by 10 they could be in bed with their earplugs.

When I asked Monique what people looked for on the Chemin, she said that she thought we all seek something at some time in our lives, even if it is just a new awareness or perspective on life. Sometimes we do not even know what it is we seek.

Bendición de la Escarcela o Morral

No sin razón los que vienen a visitar a los santos reciben en la iglesia el morral bendito. Pues cuando los enviamos con motivo de hacer penitencia al santuario de los santos, les damos un morral bendito, según el rito eclesiástico, diciéndoles:

En nombre de nuestro Señor Jesucristo, recibe este morral hábito de tu peregrinación, para que castigado y enmendado te apresures en llegar a los pies de Santiago, a donde ansías llegar, y para que después de haber hecho el viaje vuelvas al lado nuestro con gozo, con la ayuda de Dios, que vive y reina por los siglos de los siglos.
Amén

Bendición del Bordón o Báculo

No sin razón los que vienen a visitar a los santos reciben en la iglesia el báculo y el morral bendito. Pues cuando los enviamos con motivo de hacer penitencia al santuario de los santos, les damos el báculo, según el rito eclesiástico, diciéndoles:

Recibe este báculo que sea como sustento de la marcha y del trabajo, para el camino de tu peregrinación, para que puedas vencer las catervas del enemigo y llegar seguro a los pies de Santiago, y después de hecho el viaje, volver junto a nos con alegría, con la anuencia del mismo Dios, que vive y reina por los siglos de los siglos.
Amén

Sobre el Camino de Santiago y sus peregrinos:

Todos, pues han de venerar a Santiago en todas partes, el cual socorre sin demora en todos los lugares a los que a él acuden.... Ahora vamos a tratar del camino de los peregrinos.
El camino de peregrinación es cosa muy buena, pero es estrecho. Pues es estrecho el camino que conduce al hombre a la vida; en cambio, ancho y espacioso el que conduce a la muerte. El camino de peregrinación es para los buenos: carencia de vicios, mortificación del cuerpo, aumento de las virtudes, perdón de los pecados, penitencia de los penitentes, camino de los justos, amor de los santos, fe en la resurrección y premio de los bienaventurados, alejamiento del infierno, protección de los cielos. Aleja de los suculentos manjares, hace desaparecer la voraz obesidad, refrena la voluptuosidad, contiene los apetitos de la carne que luchan contra la fortaleza del alma, purifica el espíritu, invita al hombre a la vida contemplativa, humilla a los altos, enaltece a los humildes, ama la pobreza. Odia el censo de aquel a quien domina la avaricia; en cambio del que lo distirbuye entre los pobres, lo ama. Premia a los austeros y que obran bien; en cambio, a los avaros y pecadores no los arranca de las garras del pecado.
Moralejo, S., C. Torres, y J. Feo. Liber Sancti Jacobi; Codex Calixtinus. Santiago de Compostela, 1951

There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic ...

... and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall. - Colette

Today I interviewed not a former pilgrim but an expectant pilgrim, an American guy named Nate who’d come to Toulouse to faire the Chemin d’Arles, and had come now because he wanted to make the pilgrimage in the winter. I met him for breakfast; two days here and he’d somehow found what must be the only place in Toulouse that serves something that approximates pancakes. Alright, they’re crepes, but at least he didn’t eat them with Nutella. (Although, sadly, no real coffee. I had three “cafes,” which means espresso that gets cold unless you swallow the whole thing in one shot.) When I spoke to him on the phone, I formed certain expectations from his gravelly Robert-Redford-in-Out-of-Africa voice. He didn’t disappoint – I walked into the café to find a ginger-bearded giant in a flannel shirt. I kept looking for Babe the Blue Ox, or for him to call out for rashers of bacon.

He’s already made several ‘pilgrimages’, if you will. He’s done the Appalachian Trail twice, as a thruhiker, which means that he started in Georgia and ended up, six months plus tard, in Maine. And last summer he went to Peru (which, incidentally, seems to be the place to go these days; I’ve met so many people who have recently visited there. Trendwatchers, take note.) to hike the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu.

It’s interesting for me to note the differences between the French pilgrims I interview and those of other nationalities. Without exception, all of the French with whom I have spoken have focused on the communal aspects of the pilgrimage, and Nate came to France with the exact opposite interest. He was enjoying the food here in Toulouse, although I had to agree with him that once you’ve seen a hundred old churches, they begin to lose some of their romance. (Actually, for me, it was all over once I had seen Notre Dame in Paris.) When we spoke, he had already visisted St Sernin and discovered the Rue du Taur, which is named the Street of the Bull because St Sernin, the first bishop of Toulouse, was martyred by being dragged along this street behind a bull. Just a cultural note.

Nate decided to begin the Camino de Santiago in France so that he could cross the Pyrenees, and he chose the Chemin d’Arles rather than the far more popular Chemin du Puy because he wanted a more authentic pilgrim experience. ‘I didn’t come to make a lot of friends,’ he told me, ‘I could do that in Colorado.’ He said that he wanted both the challenge and the solitude of a winter pilgrimage. Nate’s description of his desires for his pilgrimage was, interestingly, quite similar to Janine’s description of “religious pilgrims”: he wanted the chance to meditate and reflect on and absorb his surroundings and his experience without the distraction of many other hikers, although he would not have called that prayer.

He said he was surprised by the number of people he had talked to who made the same two observations: 'You will earn a lot of merit by doing the Camino in winter' and 'you ought to do it in summer, it's better'. Ensuing conversation revealed that 'merit' resulted from increasing the hardship of what was seen to be an already very arduous undertaking by doing it in cold and possibly inclement weather. 'Better', on the other hand, was usually equated with 'warmer', though it could also mean that there would be more pilgrims on the Chemin. (The idea that he might in fact enjoy the silence all around him was apparently difficult to imagine.) Suitably clad and equipped, however, and taking certain sensible precautions, the only major drawback to a winter journey, according to Nate, is that the days are far too short.

With a drastically reduced amount of daylight you need to be considerably more organized than you might be in summer, not only with respect to places of interest, but also so as not to be caught in the dark with nowhere to sleep. Especially in winter, and especially on the Chemin d’Arles, it is necessary to be certain that you will arrive at the place where you will sleep before night. Gites in France offer low-cost lodging to hikers on the GR65. They are owned by individuals, churches, or municipalities, and the quality of the facilities varies widely. Many have cooking facilities, and all have showers (although not necessarily hot water) and toilets. Whereas in Spain it is necessary to show the pilgrim’s passport in order to obtain lodging at an albergue or refugio, anyone is free to use the French gites. However, the gites do not appear as frequently on the trail as the refugios, and because they are open to all, they can be more crowded.

As far as attitudes towards solitude go, it’s also worth noting that the people who come from other countries to make the pilgrimage in France are usually choosing to hike for days or weeks in a country whose language they do not speak. Nate is a good example of this; although he speaks a certain amount of Spanish, he speaks almost no French, and has been surprised by how few people here speak English. However, a willingness to undertake this sort of journey even knowing that your opportunities not only for conversation but also for basic aid will of necessity be limited by your inability to communicate indicates a certain personal bent, and one that is perhaps less intimidated by solitude.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. - Henry David Thoreau