Yesterday as I was walking towards Granada I was thinking I was glad I didn't do this with a public newsletter, I would have felt this walk was not inspired enough as to merit anyone's attention. But, why was it not inspired? Even though I enjoyed the walk, I felt the lack of feeling, an emotional numbness which is difficult to pin down because it requires identifying the absence of emotion rather than the existence of it.
"But, have I allowed myself to feel?" I thought, and a surge of feeling came from my chest. I sobbed two seconds and then laughed out loud. Thank you, I thought. And then I started naming all the things I was grateful for: my family, my friends, my job, my relationships. After that I started thanking all the things I was seeing: the trees, the grass, the sky, the rain, the flowers. Then I started thanking the things which seemed negative or ugly: the puddles, the plastic bag, the pipes, the gates. It took me a long time to name and thank everything I saw, and after a while I was repeating myself. I walked what remained of the way in a serene silence, feelings flowing unencumbered by the mind.
After I got to Granada I arranged to meet with G, the queer guy who wrote about the hospitalero in La Peza. "Apparently they're going to get rid of him", he told me with delight. The day before I had talked with the retired police officer about him, and I passed this information to G:
"Manuel said that he's relayed him as hospitalero in an albergue, and that he didn't appear to have a problem with alcohol, at least at that time. He lives on 400€ pension from the government, of which 100€ go towards his kid, who lives with his mom in Mexico. He doesn't have a job and taking away his hobby would devastate him."
"I know you heard the dogs barking at 4am in the morning, and we all thought it was the hospitalero coming back after a night out at the bar. However, because I was late leaving the albergue [because I was writing my daily entry], I found him up and about at 9am in the kitchen. He appeared to be alert and sober. I must also inform you he was wearing speedo, so our interaction was kinda awkward and I left as soon as I could. As a matter of fact, I cannot say for sure he's not an alcoholic, but perhaps he should get a second chance".
G. initially protested, but then conceded he had interpreted the events through the assumption that he was alcoholic and a menace to pilgrims. It was possible he had just a bad day. G. said "did you know they always post to facebook a photo of the group with the hospitalero, and they didn't post ours?"—shit, it hit my like a ton of bricks: I had taken the only photo of him with us, as a selfie, and I hadn't forwarded it to the camino association as I said I would. "That's my fault", I said.
I wrote a message to a lady from the association:
Hello N. I'm sorry it took me so long to send the photo with F. To tell you the truth, I think he's a good person going through a bad time, I hope he has another chance to demonstrate his worth. I have enjoyed walking this way, thanks for taking care of all of us, hospitaleros included. I go back to Madrid tomorrow, blessings.
