La Parroquia San Juan Bautista. Granon, Rioja
Spain
September
1-15, 2014
I made a
commitment to find a way to serve other pilgrims on the very day I completed my
first pilgrimage to Santiago in November of 2012.
Returning to
the states I began putting together the pieces to make a service commitment a
reality. I was put in touch with several pilgrims’ organizations and finally
found hospitalera training to take place over a weekend last fall. The
facilitators and other trainees in attendance were incredible. This was the
final push I needed to put the wheels in motion. Once all the logistics came
together, the rest just evolved organically.
I really had
no idea what to expect when I arrived at the albergue to take up my post as a
volunteer. I decided to walk from San Jean Pied de Port in order to put myself
in the proper mindset. I allowed myself plenty of time because I didn’t want to
rush through any of this experience. It
was about 11 days of walking through the late summer sun.
Upon my
arrival which was 3 days early, I had a bad cold and had some serious pain in
my right foot. The three women from the Spanish city of Valencia who were the
hospitaleras when I arrived gave me a warm welcome and allowed me to rest up. All
the hospitaleros at the other parochial albergues, donativos and municipal
shelters I met along the way set fine examples as to how to welcome a pilgrim.
I speak Spanish fairly well and had found some of them to be quite funny with a
great sense of humor. But it was Pepe in Zabaldiki who, when he found out I was
on my way to my volunteer position in Granon clapped his hands together in a
show of exuberance and began to explain the inner journey of the Camino. That
would become very clear much later.
The village
of Granon is lovely. It has an agricultural based economy with a typical
communal lavadura, fuentes, and a plaza hosting a café bar, church and town
hall. Located in one of the verdant valleys of the province and autonomous
community of La Rioja, Spain. The albergue in Granon is very special. I did not
encounter anything like it anywhere on my own walk to Santiago. It is open 24/7
365 days a year and never turned anyone away. When I first met Father Jesus, I
was a little intimidated by his presence. He held a pilgrim’s mass every night
of the week except for Sundays when he performed a morning mass. Of course he
turned out to be one of the gentlest souls on the planet. His commitment to pilgrims was awe inspiring
and his lack of judgment toward others is what really struck me. I felt a
little awkward at times speaking with him because my Spanish seemed to ebb and
flow but he never wavered, he never laughed at me or poked fun of my Spanish.
Neither did the other two2 hospitaleros I worked with. Sergio was a young man
from Madrid and Antonio was a retired professor from Mexico. They spoke no
English but we communicated well laughed and laughed for two solid weeks. It
was the most fun you can have while scrubbing toilets and washing down shower
stalls.
We also
offered a communal meal every evening. We occasionally fed folks who were not
staying at the albergue itself. The kitchen was tiny. Our job was to supervise
the pilgrim’s while they prepared the evening cena. When I tell people this
they are incredulous, as they should be. BUT, it worked. As I said Granon is
exceptional. Remember the story of the fishes and the loaves? That sums it up. There
was always enough. However, when I first arrived the three current hospitaleras
were doing all the cooking. And a fine job they did. I thought that’s how it
worked. Then I discovered that neither Sergio nor Antonio knew anything about
kitchens and cooking. I have many years of experience in commercial kitchens
and thought I could handle cooking every night for 45+ pilgrims. By day 4 I was
cooked myself. Enter Marina, the volunteer supervisor from Burgos. She
straightened us out on a few things. She is the one who taught us to “trust the
process because it works”. I did not believe her but there was no alternative,
I could not continue cooking every night. She was so right. Pilgrims were more
than happy to offer to help. We even had a few professional chefs who stepped
up to direct the kitchen for the evening.
After that we all fell into a pleasant but rigorous routine. That
routine included relaxing, exploring Granon and even a few field trips with
Father Jesus. Did I mention cleaning the albergue every day from top to bottom?
Here is what a typical day looked like:
We rotated a
shift of two to prepare the breakfast at 6:00 AM. The other hospitalero would
sleep in. And once the last pilgrims were out the door, we went back to sleep
for an hour or two and soaked up the quiet. The three of us upon awakening ate
a quick breakfast with some coffee and set to the task of cleaning the albergue.
There were no bunks or actual beds in Granon. Pilgrims slept on mats on the
floor of either the main sleeping room or in the overflow which also happened
to be the newer chapel of the church. This chapel doubled as the winter
quarters for the masses. Father Jesus said if and when those two spaces were
full, pilgrims could sleep inside the church. I never saw that but we did sometimes
have 60+ pilgrims.
After the
mats were stacked up we cleaned the floors with a solution of both water and
vinegar or a solution of bleach and water.
We also wiped down the mats about every 3 days with a solution of
vinegar and water. The floors were tile and did not allow for bugs to hide.
Although we also had a pressurized steam cleaner in the event of bed bugs
showing up. Because of this problem in the past, Granon did NOT have blankets
or sheets to offer pilgrims. We cleaned the bathrooms, washed all the kitchen
towels, straightened the place up, separated the trash and cleaned the kitchen.
After a short time, it became clear that some of us had preferences. By
unspoken agreement, Antonio took it up to deep clean the kitchen every day and
wash all the kitchen towels and cleaning rags; I was particular about the
ladies bathroom and the auxiliary WC on the first floor and Sergio liked
keeping the choir in order. It worked very well this way…
After the
place was together, we all went to the local bar and had a coffee or a
croissant and just relaxed in the morning sun. After our little break of coffee
and chats with locals (of which there were about 200 in residence in Granon),
we went back and waited. When pilgrims came in up the narrow winding staircase
of the bell tower, we had them sign in, oriented them to showers, sleeping and
laundry (most of what pilgrims do after walking) and pointed to the donativo
box on the table in the entry. Again, here is where Granon was truly special. This
albergue was 100 % dependent on pilgrim donations. Our donativo box was a
little wooden chest that was open and on the inside of the lid was printed in
several languages: Donativo-Put in what you have, Take out what you need. We
never lacked for funds to buy groceries and wine and keep the place stocked.
The main
floor was both a living room and a dining room. Pilgrims could sit by the open
windows, eat their lunch, play our guitar, chat with each other and us and just
relax. The albergue opened on to a little public plaza or garden with plenty of
shade and benches, all in all a very pleasant place to while away the
afternoon. I often sat there for an hour or so myself playing my ukulele during
the hot Spanish siesta.
At about
6:00 in the evening we would begin to facilitate the pilgrims organizing
themselves into a food prep team. More often than not, one pilgrim would step
up to delegate to others what needed to be prepped and so on. We were able to
use the big wood heated bread oven at the local bakery down the street from
roasting large pans of vegetables or what have you. The catch was, pilgrims had
to sing or Susanna to owner in order to claim the night’s dinner from the oven.
This led to much hilarity and general mayhem in the street around the time
dinner was to be served.
After the
supper was cleared and the dining room put back in order, we held a candlelight
meditation in the choir. Pilgrims were invited to offer up prayers,
thanksgivings, and petitions or just speak their hearts and minds. It was a
great honor to be a witness to all the pilgrims who shared their fears, their
pain, joys, sorrows, regrets, gratitude and prayers. In my time as hospitalera
I met no fewer than 400 pilgrims. I began keeping a list of the countries that
were represented. By the time I left Granon I had about 35 countries on that
list. By the time I had reached Santiago, Muxia and Finisterre, it had grown to
53.
After the pilgrim’s
mediation, it was basically lights out for the pilgrims. Of course they were
free to sit outside in the cool of the evening or venture into the town plaza
to the bar. As hospitaleros, we set to the task of preparing for breakfast. We
set the tables and made sure we had everything necessary to serve a typical
Spanish breakfast, coffee, tea, bread, butter and jam. And then we retired for
the evening.
The albergue
was set up in such a way that it practically ran itself. On several occasions,
were able to walk out to the nearby hermitage of Carrasquedo. A little church
about 2 kilometers out of town located in what was known as the Bosque Celtico
or Celtic Wood. It was a nice walk and there was a park, restaurant and youth
hostel there. On 2 occasions Father Jesus took the 3 of us on field trips to
museum in Canas, a retired Cistercian Monastery and to Valvonera, a living Benedictine
Monastery in the mountains outside Logrono.
Aside from
keeping track of donations, cleaning and keeping the albergue clean, much of
what we did was to welcome pilgrims and help them feel safe and protected. This
is where that inner journey starts to show up. In retrospect, I think that
pilgrims need more than shelter and a hot meal. And being a pilgrim myself I
found this to be true at times. I think pilgrims (although we may not be
consciously aware of it) also need to know that we will be OK. That our needs
will be met and we will not experience some life threatening incident. Even by today’s
standards in civilized society and a world mostly free of highway robbers and
bandits for some people breaking from the routine they have held for years is absolutely
terrifying. My experience has taught that the “not knowing”, the
unpredictability of weather and conditions, the dynamic nature of our own human
experience can lead to insecurity. Serving as hospitalera was as challenging as
being a pilgrim. For me personally, I needed to lean into the spirituality I
was hoping to deepen. I needed to stretch and dig deep to uphold pilgrims when
they were coming apart. The inner journey of service put me as in touch with my
God as walking into the unknown every day. I am grateful for having had the
privilege of serving in this way.
