👣 Noire Pilgrim: Courage

How often is the safety of female pilgrims discussed on the camino? A lot. It is an issue of concern for anyone thinking about walking the trail. It is an issue for anyone who cares for anyone walking. As a solo peregrina, safety is always on my mind. I’ve thought about it and concluded that developing safety awareness is crucial in preparing for the camino.

You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor. – Aristotle

The world is us

There is no place on the planet that is totally free of conditions like crime, abuse, fraud, or treachery. Life on earth is full of danger. We believe that only a few things can cause us harm. It depends on your status in life, what you are doing at the time, where you live, and your own actions. More depends on how you respond when confronted by it.

Conventional wisdom holds that the smart thing to do is avoid dangerous situations. Danger is attractive to some people and some people attract it. I do not needlessly place myself in those moments, but I may find myself there through no conscious effort on my part.

The reality is this for me: I am a magnet for danger simply by being. I confront danger to my physical person and psychic state, and enjoyment of life because I am black and a woman. That reality holds true here and at home.**

No more waiting

When I decided to walk the camino, I knew that I would do it as a solo female pilgrim or peregrina.

Women have to summon courage to fulfill dormant dreams.- Alice Walker

A pilgrimage takes a lot of planning and motivation to stay with it whenever discouraging information emerges. Although the camino is safe, bad things happened to some peregrinas that all of us should heed. Our awareness then serves as protection from ignorance of where we really are. Yes, the camino is both a magical and daunting place.

Romanticizing the camino

Making the mistake of romanticizing the camino can be crushing.

I study and am aware of the world around me. The camino may not be the “real world” but it is of the real world. I don’t believe that we should shield ourselves from these things. Instead we learn lessons from the incidents, receive the information with gratitude, never judgement, and apply them to our own lives. I honor the women who fell victim to these acts and will never run away from what happened. If I did, I don’t think that I could walk on the trail with courage.

I don’t allow fear to keep me off the trail. Walking in spite of the fear reduces the perceived dangers that surround me. If I were not scared in some stretches of the camino trail, as Little Milton sang: “grits ain’t grocery and eggs ain’t poultry“.

Imagination

Imagine having to say that you are a solo peregrina, a woman alone, when checking into a hotel, hostel, or albergue. Imagine what that feels like when you have to acknowledge the same in a lonely mountain forest and a strange person walks or drives by you. What would you do if this person encroaches and remains in your space? Think it through.

What would you do if you were sitting alone eating your food in a cafe or under a tree in the forest with shoes and socks off?

What would you do if you needed to take a defensive stance in a strange place at a most inconvenient time?

Could you imagine every scenario where you may have to think quickly with courage and act with conviction to keep from getting hurt? Can you critically determine if you should accept someone’s help, a ride in a car, or perceived gesture of kindness at the very moment that you needed it?

A choice, sometimes has already been made for you. Here is an example. I booked a room in a private house and found this:

I immediately recognized the backpack and the rest of the kit. It belonged to another pilgrim I met a few times before in albergues along the trail. Our paths crossed at the monastery in Granada, a stone’s throw from the Alhambra. It was a peregrino, a Frenchman and author, that I already had interesting conversations about art, books, music, movies, and politics in his country and mine.

And now I was sharing a room and bathroom with this man. My roommate, however, was deferential and very much a gentleman.

The host was a Moroccan woman who spoke French, Spanish, and English. We had a nice evening discussing many things. They had their sweet moments speaking French and explaining things to each other and to me. I enjoyed their company so much.

I crossed the ocean for this?

Do not get me started on my own thoughts about the sly verifications of my status as an immigrant or visitor in the country. I have been asked if I was French. Another man walked up to me, looked me in my face and exclaimed “Cameroon”?

I did have an officer ask to see my passport in Almeria before I even started the camino. By the way, if the law asks to see your ID you must surrender it. I digress. Here is the story.

A clerk in a mobile phone store in Almería threatened to call the policia on me due to a dispute on delivery of a sim card. I was not satisfied with the service and refused to pay. I calmly said “call them please”. His behavior revealed that had he thought I would fold under the threat of arrest. He made several calls. I thought about just leaving but feared that the story would change to the detriment of my safety and freedom.

This felt familiar

Soon, a “customer” came into the store and this clerk had a short conversation with him. The customer approached me and said that he could fix the problem for another fee. I quickly realized that this was a bonco scheme between the clerk and his friend. I called the police and waited.

In the meantime, I recruited, from the street, a gracious young woman who spoke English and Spanish. She interpreted for me as I presented my story. I feared that the situation was stacked against me – being a black woman with minimal knowledge of the language. But I was calm, earnest, and simply presented the facts. It turned into a test to see if this would work successfully for me in Spain.

The clerk repeatedly told the officer that I was crazy and did not know what I was talking about. I believe that the officer knew that this was a scheme. He gave my passport back to me which he discreetly requested after entering the store. Finally, he asked if I was ok with the outcome. I said yes as long as I did not have to pay this character a cent. The officer nodded his head and left. Case over.

That was the beginning of the camino for me. I got my passport back and the world did not end.

The takeaway

My experience had a silver lining. It empowered and helped me to speak up for myself without fear. My trust in people was not damaged. When I asked for help, I always find someone who did. It reduced any hesitation I might have had about protecting myself in the camino.

That realization keeps me safe on this, my first and only camino.

Surprise Visit From The Guardia Civil

The Guardia are on and off the camino. I acknowledge them and wave when I see them. Early in my walk, I talked briefly with Guardia on the trail near el Calvario, the old olive tree. It was terribly hot, they were in their car, and did not offer me a bottle of cold aqua! Perhaps they may have given me one if I’d asked. Fortunately, I had my own. I cannot remember if they said “buen camino”.

I made it to the albergue in Montamarta. It was busy as usual with pilgrims settling in, washing clothes, showering, etc. I knew many of them. We waited for the hospitalero to drop by in the late afternoon to collect money for the beds and complete the registration (country passport and stamped pilgrim’s credential) that is required by the Spanish government.

Typically, no one is allowed to stay at an albergue without those precious documents.

The Guardia Civil made a surprise visit to the albergue. They checked our IDs and passed out information about the expanded role of the Guardia on the camino. They stamped our credentials too. The officers were pleasant, but I felt that they were looking for someone.

Wait! There are other dangers

An ATM takes on a different look late at night on a lonely street. Dispensed money seems to glow in the dark.

An unattended purse or wallet lying on your bunk may not be there to greet you when you return from the shower.

A credit card or cash or passport left on a counter for a “only a minute” may be gone in a second.

Protect yourself first

… and your stuff second.

It is a matter of common sense and experience. If you haven’t had any of these or similar things occur in your life up to now, you could on the camino. If you never practiced thinking for yourself in life, you will have many opportunities to do just that on the camino. And, if your desire is to be open and experience good and bad, anything and everything, you will.

The joke then, I believe, is on me. I want to experience anything and everything in my own way and own time. I learned and continue to learn that it is not always feasible or even good to expect that. Life is what it is…happening to me and for me.

I want to come back home with all the things I left with… my health, my dignity, my passport, my purse, my fingers and toes.

Hmmm, I guess I’m the coward 😉.

If the sign says don’t drink the water

… then don’t drink the water.

Fruit that has fallen to the ground from a tree looks appetizing, but is it safe to eat? Well, it landed where you and I walked. Animals like dogs, horses, cows, sheep contributed their footprints and other “stuff” that landed with a plop or thud. Are you really going to put that in your mouth and eat it? If you are, at least rinse or clean it off.

The camino trail is very long at times and bathroom facilities are scarce. There aren’t a lot of options for a girl on the trail. I do not want to make it any worse for myself by eating something that is not good for me and creating an explosive situation. On a long stretch with no cafe, no trees or bushes, maybe a shallow ditch, and no privacy, plans A, B, and C might have to be put into play.

Food and water on a long camino trail like Mozarabe, Via de la Plata, and beyond must sustain your life. It is a matter of survival. I visit markets on the trail to replenish my food and supplies. In the albergue, I arrange it all in my backpack. It reminds me of the days when I was a child.

Getting real personal

When I was a young girl, my family would leave the house at 3 in the morning to get a head start on the foolery of traveling to the south to visit relatives. Mind you, this was our only trip for a few years. We waited until my father’s factory job closed down for two weeks in the summer. You know, we really looked forward to that first trip. After that, not so much. I will explain.

We cooked and packed food to eat in the car because we were not allowed to stop and eat at any restaurant along the 700 mile road trip… a family with little children. We had toilet paper and other toiletries for our ablutions on the side of the road because we were not allowed to use the rest stops…a family with little children. We spent the night in our car because no hotel would permit us to register or stay anywhere along the 700 mile trip… a family with little children.

An ugly legacy

The only stop we were “allowed” was a forced one on the highway by racial extremists, violating public trust, disguised as the law. My father was subjected to questions about where we were going, ownership of our car and how much money we were carrying. And the real threat was this: based on how inhumane and dispassionate these agent of terror saw fit to be, we could very well lose those things along with our lives.

The only thing we desired was to visit our kinfolk and return home with all the things we left with… our health, our dignity, and our family including our courageous parents.

I have not faced that kind of danger on this 1,400 kilometer journey.

You know what? I feel safe after all.

Back On The Trail

It’s morning. I am a pilgrim. And I am back on the camino, now Sanabrés, getting closer to Santiago de Compostela.

Baadaye and Buen camino

Shirley J ♥️

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**The high value of my passport and status as a citizen is not lost on me when I visit most countries. Sadly, that value diminishes when it pertains to my movements within the borders of my own.

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This and several posts this summer are chronicling my pilgrimage in Spain where I am walking the 1400 kilometer-long camino Mozárabe, now on the Via de la Plata, northward to Santiago de Compostela. Read my announcement here.

My YouTube channel – Noire Pilgrim By Shirley J – features mini videos, snippets, and shorts from my pilgrimage on the camino.