What is in this? — St. Jean Pied de Port, France

Sept 6

Eric runs St. Jean Pied de Port's albergue le chemin vers l'etoile, which was built in 1582 and slopes a little, and he speaks very good english. He does not think my bag is too heavy. He knows my bag is too heavy. He has told me to unpack it. 

(This is Eric's desk. From which he welcomes pilgrims to the beginning of their journey. From this spot I heard him give the same lecture he gave me to several new arrivals. "Now, ze first lesson you will learn is humility. No, you will. And you must pay attention to your body. LISTEN, to your body. Also, this pack is too heavy. What is in this?")

"Go upstairs, and unpack it," he says, "and make three piles. The essential, the necessary, and the wanted. Get rid of the third pile. Combine the other two. Repeat process five times."

He asks to see my shoes. They are ok, he supposes. He reaches into my backpack and pulls out my toiletries bag. He lifts it up and down while he maintains eye contact with me. 

"And this?" He asks. "What is this? You don't need make up." 

"I do not..." I start,

"You do not need a hair dryer."

"I do not have a hair dryer!"

"Your bag needs to be 10 pounds. I am telling you right now, this bag is 22 pounds."

 

I nodded and stayed quiet. Because I knew it was 30. 

"Look at her. See her bag? She will show you." 

And all that's going through my head is - I am a God damn Alaskan commercial fisherman, I am a savvy outdoors person. I live alone in the woods. I've hauled wood and water and shoveled 8 foot snow drifts to find my car and you are labeling me a fool? Before I've started?

But I am a mediocre fisherman. And I have simply been lucky thus far in the woods. And these days my cabin has a washer and dryer. And it's impossible not to love Eric. So I have a bag full of stuff ready for the post office tomorrow. But I'm not going to tell him I brought an iPad. I have a feeling he won't care about my grad school deadlines or my promise to email my mother regularly. 

The hostel entrance is a tiny door beside the chocolate shop. If you look close, there's a little blue sign with a yellow shell indicating it's a Camino friendly hostel. 

Also today I had my first real conversation in three days. With Marie-Claire from Germany. She is 21 and about to be in her last year of Economics in the university. She has a cat and a sheep. But the sheep lives at her uncle's house. She also has an elephant but it is cotton and lives in her sleeping bag. She is a tall, blond woman with tanned muscles, a kind disposition, and a seemingly endless supply of candy. She was also in trouble with Eric, but not because of her bag. Because of her knee. Which a French doctor looked at but not Eric's doctor. Eric pulled her into the kitchen to see the doctor. She said he had but two teeth and was smoking a cigarette. We are doubting now his credentials as both doctor and cook. Though under Eric's roof I doubt we have a choice in either. Doctor-Cook is an experienced Pilgrim, see, and his opinion is paramount. His veal, on the other hand, remains to be tested. 

Oh shit Eric just saw me typing on my iPad.