Mixed Messages — Itero de la Vega, Spain

So I was going along, having an extended selection of arguments with people in my head. You know, the way you do when you're traveling alone through the Spanish countryside. It's really the best time for getting into completely fabricated disputes with members of your inner circle of friends, or family, or the stranger that was snoring, or whoever, you know? I even caught myself having a row with Jonathan Brierley, who wrote the Camino guide I'm using. These are the kind of vital things I was using my brain power for yesterday morning. 

Through no fault of any of the people I was pretending to talk to, I was having kind of a crap morning. And isn't that kind of why I'm here? To hash out all my issues with myself so that I am whole and better able to interact with my loved ones later? Partly yes. But in that moment of self-indulgent negativity, my methodology wasn't very effective. And I probably would have continued on like that for HOURS. Except, I looked up, and saw this.

Now, I am sure that this is meant for some other Hannah, long past this section of trail. Perhaps long gone from Santiago and off to her home by now. Who knows if it referred to a bad blister or a hangover or a fight with her boyfriend or a bit of bad news from home. It doesn't really matter now how it got there. Because it was exactly what I needed at that moment. I laughed. I laughed a lot. And from that moment on it was like the negative thoughts weren't even able to get in, because every time I'd remember that ridiculous message and laugh again. So I said a little apology to the innocent people I was arguing with, and I made my way to Itero de la Vega. 

There are so many messages left along the way. There are the private ones, left in nooks of ancient walls.

There are the post its and Sharpie notes and rock formations scrawling messages to companions following behind. There are well wishes to and from strangers. There are bits of stories, like this one, which I'm just dying to hear the rest of. 

There's an endless line of messages, none of which are particularly for me, but most of which have something to offer me if I pay attention. There's also the ones with the negative connotations. Like the "Fuck You Americans," scattered along the trail. These messages make me very sad, and it hurts in my heart more than I ever thought it would. I knew going in, the basics, that people generally dislike Americans. It's one of the reasons I always say I'm from Alaska when people ask. They know it's America, but people regard it a little differently somehow. Unless they remember to ask about Sarah Palin, which they often do, and it's all downhill from there. 

I wish I could ask the person writing the angry words, what part are you angry at? Corporate America? Military America? Political power America? Consumer America? Because most of us feel some or a lot of frustration regarding those things too. We have a lot of stuff we don't need, and a lot of us have a lot of money compared to the rest of the world. That's not quite fair, it's true. 

And like the rest of all humanity that came before us, there's a lot of things that we've done wrong. 

I would like to know the author's ideas for making it better, what it would take to alleviate the anger. And I really do want to know in general how I might be a better American, and how I might help to make my country a better neighbor and a better home. Not because I dislike it now, but because where there are problems and complaints there should also be attempts at solutions. 

I agree that there's a boat load of douchey Americans — as I heard one person put it. But there's a lot of douchey people from everywhere. That's part of being on the planet, some people are short-sighted jerks and they come in all colors and accents. And even most of them have a story and something redeemable to offer if you listen, and people who love them. I would hope that everyone does. 

And wouldn't you know it, right before I finished writing this I flipped to tomorrow's guidebook info, and found this Longfellow quote at the top.

“If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."

And Now Random Pictures in Closing

Sometimes I turn around in the morning and remember, oh yeah, sunrise.

And I love evidence of progress. Here's this hill as I approach it. And the next picture, looking back at it from the top of the next hill on the other side. If you look carefully you can see the hilltop ruins in both pics.

The distant one in the center. 

 Last night's patio, and its looming farmer.

 

The part of the morning before your feet start to hurt and optimistic facial expressions abound.