By Jung Mi-hee
Contributing writer
The pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela is a trek to the tomb of Saint Jacobus in Santiago de Compostela where pilgrims can pay reverence. Dating back to medieval times, the pilgrims had various routes to get to the destination, the favorite being the one stretching 800 kilometers from the border of France and Spain to Santiago de Compostela, designated as a World Cultural Heritage by UNESCO in 1993.
Transferring to a smaller train after getting off the TGV (a high speed train) at Bayonne station, I arrived at the station of Saint Jean Pied de Port. A small French town just below the Pyrenees, Saint Jean Pied de Port is the starting point of this hike. The Pilgrims Association issued the pilgrims with certificates, which are needed to stay in Alberge ― lodgings only for pilgrims, provided by churches and local governments in Spain on the route.
I traveled with a group of people I met on the train ride over and we planned to set off on our journey together. The next day, we were to climb the Pyrenees, known as the most challenging part of the route ― my heart was pounding with anticipation.
Getting up at dawn, we started our journey following the yellow arrows that lead to Santiago de Compostela. I was unaccustomed to the weight of my backpack and it made my shoulders ache, but thanks to the beautiful scenery and my considerate companions I managed to get over the mountains with little difficulty.
Roncesvalles, the first Spanish town on our route, unfolded before us. The different language we could hear told us that we were really in Spain. That day, we slept in a religious house-turned-hall filled with 100 bunk beds. I did not get a good night's sleep because of the snoring everywhere.
The next day, I was woken up by the noise of the other pilgrims who were busy getting ready to depart. I set out with them after swiftly bathing and getting ready. Despite the haze and darkness blocking the path, all the pilgrims keenly walked on, following the yellow arrows by the light of lanterns. The pilgrims usually set out early before sunrise to avoid the intense sunshine from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Three days after arriving in Spain, we had language problems. As the local people lacked basic English skills, I could not even order at restaurants or bars. After pointing to the food I wanted to eat on the menu and paying, I let the restaurant employees hand me back my change. There was no other option before becoming familiar with different currencies, but luckily I was never overcharged ― thanks to rural people's honesty. On the streets, there was no overcharging or pick-pocketing (which can be common in tourist destinations) due to the belief that any harm done to pilgrims would be revisited upon the perpetrator. Thus, all pilgrims are safe, even women who travel alone.
A few days passed and I got more accustomed to the weight of my backpack and the walking. My life became very simplistic through the routine of walking, eating, washing, and sleeping. Fellow pilgrims with whom I could speak were the most encouraging part of my trip.
Even though we did the same simplistic things every day, I wasn't bored thanks to the different stories people from different countries told. Beyond our different cultures, ages, and personalities, we became friends with the common thread being that we were walking together. Saying ``Hola!'' (hello) to strangers and caring for each other was a courtesy for people on the journey, which was voluntarily undertaken by all pilgrims. Despite the tough conditions, everybody kept smiling.
One day, I found out I'd been bitten by insects on my wrist and ankle. At first it looked okay, but soon the number of bites, swelling and fever got worse and I had to go to a local hospital. A doctor gave me an injection and some medicine, saying the bites were caused by bedbugs.
Failing to remove them they would have spread them across my whole body, so I washed and disinfected all my baggage and clothes. After two weeks of spraying disinfectant under the sun, I was finally rid of them. The Alberges are a system based on donation and volunteers, so hygiene, especially on beds, is not very good because of the lack of workers for the large number of pilgrims. While I finally succeeded to get rid of the bites from my body, someone in my party suffered from serious inflammation and suppuration.
Pilgrims usually walk 25 to 40 kilometers every day carrying a 10 kilogram backpack. As it takes almost one month to get to Santiago de Compostela, most suffer from inflammation of the ankles and knees and blisters on the soles of their feet. I also had a hard time because of an inflamed ankle. Sometimes, the problem forces them to move to the next stop by bus or even worse, to return home. Scenes of people massaging each other's legs and treating cuts and bruises were often seen.
After walking the 800 kilometers, we finally got to Santiago de Compostela and the pilgrims worshiped in front of the Saint Jacobus statue in the cathedral there. Many shed tears, recalling all the difficulties and feelings during the journey.
After worshiping, pilgrims headed toward the Pilgrims Association, where people with a Credencial (passport for pilgrims) can get a certificate proving that they had completed the journey. Even though it might be just a piece of paper to other people, it was priceless for all the pilgrims who walked the whole distance.
After a day of rest, we headed to Finisterre, located on the westernmost point of Spain ― about 100 kilometers away from Santiago and three days walking distance. As many pilgrims stop walking in Santiago de Compostela, this route is relatively leisurely and quiet. When arriving in Finisterre, pilgrims visited the light tower on the westernmost point of the peninsula. There, they burned their clothes and shoes used on the journey while watching the sunset, a centuries-old tradition of pilgrims.
``Why are you doing this?'' was the question pilgrims asked each other most often while walking. Whenever asked, I answered, ``I'd like to get a deep belief and courage in my heart.'' But in Finisterre, I realized that what I had learned from this was neither belief nor courage, but about people.
Looking back, I have struggled to have more and be better than others, I have always been too busy to open my heart. But this journey allowed me to have just one backpack and pushed me just to complete the journey. I could see people giving me encouraging smiles whenever they met me and whenever I had a hard time. They filled me with hope more than ever. At the end of the 42-day beautiful journey, I am now determined to have faith in people once again.