June 19, 2018

The third day – continued. I’m eyeing the heap of bed sheets lying around on the cupboard in the quiet room, that heap is yet to be ironed out. When I finally catch Daniel and inquire about the iron:”What? You want to iron the sheets??? Eerrrmmm, you better ask Father Antonio, he’s in charge of that.”  Daniel proceeds to disappear like the morning dew. Well, if you don’t want it, I don’t want it! I take my coffee and go to the garden for a moment’s piece. In a bit Raul barges in:”Is it true? You’re gonna be ironing???” Hmmmmm…. in my mind I recite all that I know about Spain, but I can’t quite recall the holiness of ironing. I reply, that – yes, I, indeed, had that in mind, but I can’t seem to find the iron. “Antonio has set the table just for you!” he says, as if he’d seen the Holy Spirit itself fetch me the iron. Alright, I’ll go see what this is all about. Once in sight Father Antonio swiftly slides away with a cunning smile. That sly fox! Next to the heap mentioned before, there has appeared another heap to outmatch the first one. Daniel, giddy with pride, presents me the “special” table – two armchairs clammed close to one another and a plastic tabletop. I gotta say, Father Antonio’s contraption is quite indescribable, at times I think his grandmother could have been Latvian. Upon seeing the amount of work before me, I understand that I’ve gotten myself into trouble. But oh ok, what’s gotta be done is gotta be done.

Almost two and a half hours later Father Antonio appears, when just a few sheets are left. He stops at the door, puts his palms into a prayer and bows. A Catholic priest, in a Spanish monastery, bows to me… it’s my turn to bawl my eyes now. As sudden as mushrooms grow after a rainy autumn’s day – appear Andrea, Raul and Daniel, all four with their heads tilted and looking at me ironing. I wish I could’ve taken a picture of this sight. While I’m folding a sheet, they disappear as fast as they appeared. I’m ironing the last one when Raul comes in again, this time to say that food’s ready and they’re waiting for me for the prayer.

I finished what I had started and go join the rest. Among many things in the prayer: thanking for the food, good weather, health and pilgrims, honorable thanks goes to my ironing. Yeesh, this isn’t funny anymore.

The Sisters of the monastery have cooked up salmon salad for lunch. Together with Daniel we go to the Sisters’ fridge to get something for me. Going into the kitchen I stumble on the step, loudly, but manage to keep my balance. Usually there’s no one there, but right this moment right before me stands the director of the monastery and in charge of the kitchen. Jesus almighty!!!

Daniel hurries to introduce me:”The volunteer from Latvia, she was ironing the sheets today!” What is it with them and the ironing?!?! I stare at the two nuns and can’t seem to think of anything to do. I can’t seem to comprehend when you have to shake hands, bow your head or a complimentary kiss on the cheek. I can feel I am blushing and the director lets out a laugh:”Es muy guapa!”

At the lunch table all four honour me as much as they can, I’m amazed at their jolliness and  I feel that in the eyes of Father Antonio I’ve ascended to the third highest, for women, spot, right behind Virgin Mary and his own mother.

Soon enough the seminarist from Cameroon joins us – a very sharp type. The ice between me and the priests has melted – I’m accepted.

The morning greets me with a strange noise, I jump to my feet, throw on some clothes and rush out. My alarm hasn’t gone off even. By the main albergue door there stands Raul, smoking. He jibes at my looking like a plucked chick. I inquire about the sound. Nope, all’s quiet, I must be hallucinating. Alright…so be it…. I go get my coffee and on my way back see Raul tilting his head, looking upwards. Ah! A familiar “Boom, Boom!” sound. Now who’s hallucinating? The sound dies, we wait a bit, all is quiet, and then in one of the rooms a tap goes off. In just a bit comes out Vanessa, Americanically loud but with bright eyes. She hugs me:”Thank you, thank you for yesterday, for the room. First time in two weeks I’ve slept alone in a room. I enjoyed every bit of it; I was dancing naked this morning.” Ohhhhhh! So… that’s the sound! The more she exclaims the more Raul’s face changes – his eyebrows go up to  touch his hairline. Interesting, is it outrage for the holy walls being dishonored or the imagination fueled fantasies? I stop Vanessa’s word flow:”Shhh… You know, I know and he knows, don’t tell anyone else – they might not understand.” Oh that’s right! It’s a monastery! She hastily throws a cross gesture, I try to hold my laugh.

When the pilgrims have come and gone and quiet has settled in, Raul comes about and presents me with some flowers – says someone left them at the door. Just now I note that his long hair is untied – his hair band sacrificed for the bouquet. He’s going away today and I’m left in charge. The priests don’t stay for the night in the albergue, so all the early morning and late night pilgrim problems will be on me. Already I feel I’ll miss him, even though sometimes the alcohol stench drove me mad. At lunch we show Raul off, Father Antonio has fashioned him a gift – a journeyman’s stuff, with inscribing by himself. I hug him goodbye and wish him to find his wanted rich redhead. I feel a bit sad even, but at the door the first traveller already awaits and the wheel starts turning again.

That’s the life here -up and down, everyone has their passions, wishes and needs.