Life Lessons From My First Camino
It has been over half a year since we walked our first Camino de Santiago: Camino Portugués. In an attempt to document as much as I could, I began writing a daily blog as soon as I returned home. At the time, my focus was jotting down as many details as I could recount. I was keen to identify all the places and recorded my interactions with our fellow pilgrims. With the thrill of pilgrimage still buzzing in my head, I thought it appropriate to take my mind off the Camino for a few months. Now, with enough distance, I can start to ask the big question: “What are the life lessons from my first Camino?”
Pontevedra is probably my favorite stop on Camino.
If you pose this question right after my Camino, I would have a particular set of answers. I would have said we were stronger than we believed. I might tell you that I should learn not to over-plan or over-worry. While these general life lessons still hold true today, some lessons only came to me after some personal reflection. They are by no means unique, as there are hundreds of similar articles in the blogosphere. However, a few life lessons have stuck with me the most. They are the best souvenirs we could get from our pilgrimage.
Don’t Be So Quick To Judge
Since the resurgence of the Camino de Santiago two decades ago, this pilgrimage has had a cult following. Many pilgrims have become addicted to the Camino, with many walking the same route year after year. Among some veterans of the Camino, there was an obsession with a traditional and “proper” way of walking the Camino. These “Camino purists” insist on a puritanical approach. “Real pilgrims” should stay at municipal albergue and must not utilize any rucksack transfer service. Some even advocate leaving any electronic at home and committing to a stoic lifestyle.
A typical pilgrim passport at the Museum of Pilgrimage in Santiago de Compostela.
We have all heard the saying that “everyone should walk their own Camino.” If you poll all pilgrims on the trail, I am optimistic that everyone will agree with that statement. But from my own experiences, I could attest that some pilgrims could be pretty judgemental. To some pilgrims, staying at a hotel or taking public transportation is almost like a sin on Camino. These negative judgments are often hidden behind the veneer of nicety. I had a pilgrim smirk at me once when I told him we would be staying at a three-star hotel in town. For a moment, he made me feel like I had done something wrong.
Picking up our pilgrim credential at Porto Cathedral.
Crossing River Minho into Spain.
But honestly, I was also guilty of being judgemental at times. From the outset, I told Brian we must walk from Porto Cathedral since it was one of the official starting points to Camino Portugués. I also insisted on carrying our own bags but also staying away from public transport. To make it worse, I must admit I was looking down on those who only walked the last 100 kilometers to get the Compostela certificate. All these “rules” stemmed from an idealized version of the medieval pilgrimage. This concept of an ideal pilgrim may seem historically correct at first. However, the reality was far more nuanced.
The beautiful scenery of Senda Litoral.
One of my favorite places in Santiago is the excellent Museum of Pilgrimage, the official museum dedicated to the history of the Camino. This often-neglected museum includes an exhibit on the evolution of pilgrimage throughout the centuries and debunked many myths the Camino purists have been propagating all these years. One is this modern distaste for luggage transfer services. According to the exhibit, luggage transfer service existed even in Medieval times. More well-to-do pilgrims would have traveled by horse-drawn carts. Some worked the Camino while porters lugged their luggage behind them. Like today, the least well-to-do pilgrims then carried their own rucksacks and stayed in public albergue.
In my opinion, this unhealthy obsession with authenticity is poison on the trail. Are people willing to forego modern trekking shoes or backpacks? While striving for authenticity is not inherently wrong, it often leads to one’s own vanity and pride. At the end of the day, isn’t that contrary to the spirits of Camino?
Sometimes People Just Don’t Click
Ask any veteran pilgrims; one would likely tell you that the highlights of any Camino are all the pilgrims we met on the trail. Camino has the magic of bringing people from different backgrounds together. For the most part, being on the trail is an open invitation to converse. As a New Yorker, I am accustomed to casual exchanges with strangers. But the conversations on the Camino have been far more nuanced and meaningful. I believe Camino de Santiago is the singular best place to make meaningful friendships.
Pilgrims inside of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostella.
On trail past Redondela.
Brian and Nicole.
Though Brian and I don’t count ourselves as the most outgoing, we still find it easy to make friends on Camino. On our two-week pilgrimage, we had the privilege to meet and walk with many amazing pilgrims. In the Spanish town of Redondela, a young woman asked me whether I would take a photo of her group of friends in front of the town’s church. Naturally, I struck up a conversation with them. They were a tight-knit group of independent pilgrims who met each other on the trail.
I quickly learned that the lady was from Estonia. As a self-professed Estophile, I was secretly excited to meet her. Given the country’s small population, I did not meet that many Estonians outside Estonia. It was not long before I told her about my love of Estonian history and culture. But for whatever reason, she did not react to anything I said, and the conversations were limited to simple pleasantries. Our interactions were brief but courteous, and I genuinely looked forward to seeing her again.
A Camino marker outside of Iria Flavia.
For the rest of the Camino, we ran into her on the trail, often multiple a day. While we always exchanged pleasantries, she projected a standoffish demeanor whenever I came around. After a while, I noticed she was somewhat of a gatekeeper to the entire group of pilgrims. She seemed very protective of her group, as if I was a menace attempting to infiltrate the little group she brought together. Partly because I was infatuated with Estonia, I felt this unexplainable need to “impress” and “befriend” her. It was not until arriving at Santiago that I realized not all friendships are meant to be. Letting go of the need to please everyone is an unexpected lesson I took away from Camino.
Never Take Anything For Granted
Brian and I felt incredibly lucky to have met many wonderful people on the Camino. These encounters could be just a few hours on the trail, but they gave us long-lasting memories. One of our favorite pilgrim friends we made was Robb. We walked with him for a couple of hours from Redondella to Pontevedra. Hailing from Philadelphia, Robb worked in finance and walked the Camino with one of his girlfriends. His affable personality and relaxed demeanor made him instantly likable.
Spending a morning walking with Robb.
Robb also stood out among the pilgrims for his honest assessment of the Camino. Besides Brian, he was the only other pilgrim I met who proclaimed this would be their first and last Camino. Even though he found Camino to be a rewarding experience, he considered it hardly an experience worth repeating. This rather unorthodox opinion was refreshing and music to Brian’s ears. Robb also elected to use a bag transfer service later in the pilgrimage, and I could tell Brian was very jealous of that.
When we arrived at Santiago de Compostela, Robb was among the pilgrim friends we hoped to meet up with again on the square. We were both disappointed that we missed him. Since we did not exchange contact, it seemed like we would probably not see him ever again. A few weeks later, Robb tracked down Brian on social media. Given Philadelphia's proximity, he suggested we could perhaps grab dinner together sometime.
Spending a morning walking with Robb.
The old quarter of Pontevedra.
Barely three months after that, we learned from Robb’s Facebook status that he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer. We felt devasted. Given our brief friendship on the trail with him, Brian and I felt helpless except for sending him a message of encouragement and positive thoughts. Little did we know that Robb would succumb to the disease shortly afterward. The speed and ferocity of his illness were shocking. It forced us to reflect on the fragility of life.
As silly as it may sound, we felt like letting a good friend down by not visiting Robb after the diagnosis. His sudden passing at a relatively young age speaks to the transient nature of our existence. And just like Camino, our life is full of unknowns and serendipities. We could never take anything for granted in life. Happiness only comes to you when you grab it by the tail.
Not Everyone Cares About Your Camino
Like most fellow pilgrims, I found walking the Camino a deeply personal and thrilling experience. For the first time, I allowed myself to slow down and appreciate the simplicities of daily routines. The byproduct of slow travel is that we often attach meanings to ordinary objects or encounters. While many pilgrims find these little details of the Camino fascinating, our enthusiasm for our pilgrimage could feel misplaced. Camino could sometimes feel like an exclusive club. We sometimes forget not everyone is interested in the Camino as we do.
It was the people that make your Camino meaningul.
All along the trail, there are people cheering you on.
Personally, the most jarring experience from my Camino was our arrival at Santiago de Compostella. Since we left Porto, we have been accustomed to being greeted with Buen Camino on the trail or pilgrim menu at restaurants. All of that stopped abruptly the moment we crossed into the municipal proper of Santiago. For a city known for pilgrimage, Santiago does not go out of its way to make pilgrims feel particularly special or pampered. The overt commercialization of Camino here also took away quite a bit of the spiritual dimension. This is perhaps why so many pilgrims find the city a little anticlimactic.
Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.
Honestly, I can’t say I was in love with Santiago at first. It took me a few hours to realize that the Camino was not about us; we were not entitled to special recognition for our “achievement.” Ultimately, the pilgrimage is an inner journey of one’s soul. As in life, we are all pronged to self-aggrandizement. We could be blind to our obsessions and fail to recognize our unwarranted entitlement.
