Today was another long walk, but so beautiful. I started out, and met Jen from North Carolina and Marie along the way. The first stop was a bit of a climb, and we wound up in a small, small village called Villamayor.
At the very top of the hill was a 12th century Romanesque church. Very plain and simple. On one side was the original crucifix, wood wrapped in silver. I am not sure the reason, but the simplicity brought me to tears. I moved to the from pew and just lost it. It was a good cleansing cry.
After I composed myself, I walked to the back to the door. The sweet young man told me that the acoustics were very good in the church. I asked if it was ok for me to sing.
I walked to the center of the church, composed myself and prayed for help, and began to sing the Ave Maria. I could hear the reverb and echo in such a small space and allowed myself to sink into the moment. For me, it was a complete letting go and allowing God to use my voice. I know it was probably the best I have ever sang.
When I finished, I couldn’t hold back, and the tears were streaming down my face. I turned back to the door, and there were at least 30 people who had come in with cell phones recording. I wasnt the only one crying.
After we left there, we continued walking on. We passed vineyards, sunflower, and wheat fields. It was beautiful. We made a couple of stops, and finally made it to a shelter and sat and ate some lunch. I took off alone, still wanting to process what had happened.
I made it to Los Arcos by about 2. The heat was brutal. Los Arcos is in the middle of nowhere. It is a very small town. In the center is the big church. This is the fashion for most of these small towns.
After checking in to the municipal (the main albuergue – more about THAT later), Marie and I went into the church. I have never seen anything like it. Complete overkill. So much ornamentation that the mind simply couldn’t take it all in. To me, it was evidence of the medieval church flexing power over the poor. Crazy.
For the first time, I saw an articulated Jesus. He isnt on the cross, but in a glass coffin. They take him out during Holy Week. Very different. The man in the church showed me pictures of the procession. Definitely a difference in culture.
After a nice pizza dinner, I went back to the municipal. Ok, here goes. 1 big room. 70 army still bunks. 2 showers. 2 toilets. Coed. It was AWFUL. Flies everywhere.
I finally fall asleep amongst the snoring and farting. Never again.
My Grieving Widow's Tour 