Independent Project

With butterflies in my stomach, I nervously entered Chehalis Family Medicine to complete my medical assisting (MA) internship. Stacey, an attractive woman with straight medium length hair and chestnut colored eyes, introduced herself as my preceptor. She quickly showed me around the clinic and pulled up the patient schedule. “Our first patient is in room 9. The most important thing to keep in mind is to not keep the doctor waiting. In and out.” I shadowed her as she moved quickly from room to room as if on roller skates. Chief complaint, allergies, medication list, medical/surgical history review, preventative health maintenance- immunizations, blood work, cancer screening, and vital signs were all addressed in under 5 minutes. She then popped out to give the doctor an overview of the patient visit. I watched as she threw a stack of consults on the desk and began updating patients’ electronic medical records. She called patients to relay imaging and blood work results at the same time. ‘’Stacey I’m going to biopsy the lesion. Please set up the tray,’’ Dr. Lee called out. I on the other hand, fumbled when placing the blood pressure cuff on patients’ arms, sweat dripped down my back as I prepared to give injections or venipuncture, and I slurred my words on the telephone. Everything was done slowly and consciously. It wasn’t too long though before I learned to pick up the pace. Stacey taught me how to be fast; after years I became what my instructor calls “seasoned.” This was my first glimpse of healthcare as I know it.

Slow Medicine The Way To Healing by Victoria Sweet has given me a new perspective on how medicine should be practiced. She begins by sharing about a time when her father received the incorrect diagnosis upon being admitted to the hospital. This clear error changed the whole course of her father’s treatment and almost caused his death. She goes on to distinguish between medicine and healthcare. Victoria states “What father had gotten was not Medicine but Healthcare-Medicine without a soul.” She defines soul as presence, attention, judgement, kindness, and responsibility. She explains that medicine deals with finding the true and right story. Victoria then brings attention to the different versions of medicine. She describes modern medicine’s view of the body as a machine. When I took courses for my MA program, the instructor also referred to the human body in this way. The doctor is the equivalent of a mechanic who must fix the broken part(s). She sheds light on an alternative model of understanding a patient, through the lens of pre-modern medicine. The body is like a plant and the doctor therefore acts like a gardener.

One of the major faults she identifies within the healthcare system is its fast pace. The medicine we should strive for is slow. This simple change allows the doctor to see the patient in a whole different light. She warns: “Don’t miss the obvious.” By this Victoria means that the diagnosis is written on the body. She proves this time and again. One captivating story she shares deals with a pediatric patient named Marcela Hernandez who was admitted for renal failure. With the help of fast medicine’s technological advances, multiple tests and work ups finally led to the correct diagnosis (neurofibroma). Victoria awaited for Marcela’s mother so she could share her finding. She is left stunned when she meets with the mother because she is covered in neurofibromas! Victoria recollects “All that effort, intelligence, and expense to get that brilliant rare diagnosis and all it had needed was one look at Mrs. Hernandez.” The diagnosis had been visible the entire time. Another clear is example is that of Joey Canaan, a pediatric patient who had drowned in a pool. He had survived but was admitted to the ICU and relied on a ventilator to help him breathe. Despite numerous tries, Joey’s body did not have the capacity supply oxygen on its own. The doctors thought he was a lost cause due to excessive scar tissue from the water and pressure of the vent. Before pulling the plug ,the pulmonologist instructed the attending physician to try decreasing the pressure and volume of the vent slowly. Joey began to respond and within three weeks was breathing entirely on his own. By week 6, he was discharged and went home to resume a normal healthy life. This goes to show that sometimes fast medicine isn’t enough-it’s the steady, consistent, and slowness of time that will allow one to heal.

Having already had a little bit of experience in healthcare, I can relate to many points Victoria brought up. I recall filling in for a medical assistant in internal medicine and pulling up the schedule to see patient appointments every 20 minutes from 8 am to 5 pm. All day long I weaved in and out of rooms doing my best to make sure we didn’t fall behind schedule. These were elderly patients most with complex medical issues. How did the doctor have time to fully address their needs? I questioned his model of patient care because being in a rural underserved medical area, my doctor and I struggled with even 40 minute appointments. Patients were asked to keep their chief complaint to a minimum of 1 but the doctor always ended up discussing 4-6 additional issues. As I resigned from my position, management was pressuring doctors to increase their patient panel, which would increase revenue. The turnover of doctors and nursing personnel has dramatically increased at my clinic as a result. I agree that not much is needed to make medicine better than it is. Everybody needs to just slow down.

The dynamic of gardener and plant approach to healing was very fascinating to me. Victoria describes the process as taking a step back and observing the patient in his own environment. The doctor asks himself “ What’s in the way of the patient’s own healing power of Nature?” It is then up to the doctor to remove whatever obstacle is impeding the patient from thriving. There are many who don’t realize or have forgotten how amazing the human body truly is. Oftentimes, people go into the doctor’s office with the expectation of being “fixed” right away. Many times that’s not the case, which leads to frustration and anger. Today I was reminded of the self healing capabilities we possess. All we need is a little patience and time.

With a higher education, I hope to help patients on a more personal level. Being placed in the patient’s shoes what type of care do I hope for? One of empathy, compassion, and support, which is what I have aimed to abide by from the start.The provider should be the patient’s greatest advocate. As I gain a deeper understanding of medicine,I hope to always keep in mind the integration of fast and slow medicine to help people heal. It starts with simply the slowing of footsteps and a listening ear.

Academic Statement

Walking to Santiago de Compostela was the first program I enrolled in at Evergreen State College. What does walking across northwestern Spain have to do with my pursuit of a medical degree? Well quite honestly, this program was supposed to be completely irrelevant to my area of emphasis. While there are numerous things I have learned from studying abroad, perhaps the most important is the ability to step out of my comfort zone. Never before had I considered myself an outdoors type of person. Did I mention I had never gone on a hike before? Choosing to walk 500 miles with a pack on my back for the first time was out of character for me. I didn’t know the first thing about hiking. My first walk on the Camino was climbing up a mountain! I pushed myself physically in a way I had never experienced before. With sweat dripping down my back and feeling short of breath, I asked myself “What the hell am I doing? This is nonsense.” I quickly learned that persistence will carry me further than focusing on my physical suffering. After all, shoulder tension, blisters, and tendinitis are some perks of the package deal on the camino. Spring quarter was also my first time traveling outside of the United States. I recall feeling slightly disappointed the first time I ordered a ham sandwich at a bar in Spain. I was given just that, ham between two pieces of stale bread. As the weeks progressed, I began to better understand the Spanish way of life through listening and observation. For example, I didn’t understand why the locals were so intrigued by my feet. Every time I walked around cities, my pastel pink pedicure would attract the attention of at least 10 people. When I started looking around, I realized not a single person wore shoes with bare feet. The women always dressed stockings with open toed shoes.Indeed, European culture is very different from the United States. Being on the Camino also allowed me to meet people from all corners of the world!

When I initially enrolled to pursue a BA, I was reluctant to embrace all the changes necessary to achieve my long term goal. One important realization is that throughout my journey towards becoming a physician’s assistant, there are going to be many times where I am required to step out of my comfort zone; whether it be performing a patient exam or giving an injection for the first time. Feeling out of one’s element is the first step towards growing as a person. And just as reaching the peak of the mountain requires perseverance, studying medicine must also be approached in the same manner. There are times when I will feel overwhelmed because there is much too much information to learn. I will be mentally challenged like never before. What has the Camino taught me? Sometimes its necessary to stop, take a deep breath (actually many), and keep climbing to the top. The journey will be difficult, but it will make reaching the top even more satisfying. Furthermore, the Camino has provided me with a deeper understanding of different cultures. I’ve had the opportunity to interact with people from all over the globe, such as those from Brazil, Africa, Germany and Asia. Experiencing this cultural immersion is extremely valuable because in healthcare, one sees patients from all sorts of backgrounds. Being aware of different customs will not only build trust between provider and patient, but also rapport. All things considered, Walking to Santiago de Compostela was intentionally “impertinent” but a fundamental component of my higher education. My pilgrimage through Spain set the standard for what I can expect moving forward. I’ve gained the confidence to follow the path I have created without hesitation. When the going gets tough, all I need to remind myself is that I can and I will.

Faculty Eval

Bill Arney taught Walking to Santiago De Compostela winter and spring quarter 2018. During our first meeting in the cedar longhouse, the class was provided with a program covenant outlining the student expectations. We reviewed this form and had the opportunity to ask questions. Each student signed the document agreeing to abide by the guidelines. He adhered to the program’s covenant precisely, which made the quarter go smoothly. In weeks 3, 6, and 9 students submitted a synthesis paper, which required individuals to reflect on his/her experiences in the program and show what he/she had learned. Assignment instructions and their due dates were organized clearly within the canvas module. Feedback detailing strengths and areas to work on was provided in a timely manner. Bill went out of his way several times to remind the class to “follow the form.” The reading list selection was appropriate and generally not difficult to understand. Before each Monday of the week, students were expected to have read the assigned book and portions of other complimentary text. Students led seminars were held Monday mornings to explore concepts within the book or ask questions about the text. Tuesday mornings were spent watching educational films about El Camino and other related topics. In the afternoon, the professor led seminar was held. Bill strongly encouraged everyone to actively participate and pushed students to think on a deeper level to understand the author. When the discussion strayed away from these key points, Bill was quick to redirect the conversation. He listened very intently and reminded the speaker to address the whole audience. At times his facial expression conveyed frustration because he wanted every student to be engaged in seminar. While I am still quite reserved, Bill has helped me be more open to sharing thoughts. Furthermore, on Wednesdays the class continued with seminar and had time allotted for guest speaker presentations. I was extremely grateful for these guests who provided education on various areas of travel-nutrition, gear, injury prevention etc. Bill also organized for a panel of prior camino walkers to discuss their experience and answer questions from the class. His organization of guest speakers was well thought out; I learned how to plan for a successful trip in this manner.

As we near our departure date, Bill has ensured that students have submitted all required documentation to Evergreen State College. He has also planned our itinerary for spring quarter and booked reservations for our stay as a group. In addition, he has collected each student’s itinerary/contact information and ensured each student is familiar with WordPress by geolocation oneself and posting in the blogsite. Whenever I email him with a question, he is quick to respond within the same day. His attentiveness to correspondence is excellent; he urges students of the need to check emails daily. Bill is an exceptional faculty member as he takes on the role of professor while also the responsibility of planning a studying abroad trip. His attention to detail and organization skills will ensure that our time abroad is spent in an enjoyable manner.

Upon arriving at the starting point of El Camino Frances, I was faced with an unforeseen situation; I was threatened by another pilgrim. I emailed Bill immediately to seek advice on how to handle the incident. He quickly responded to my email and was available to meet me in person the following day. Bill made sure that Evergreen State College administration was informed and kept updated as a report was made to the Spanish Guardia Civil. He was very supportive and remained near as long as I needed. The legal proceeding to obtain an order of protection was very stressful. I contemplated leaving everything behind before even starting my Camino. Bill listened attentively and his calm manner made me feel more at ease. He never hinted at what I should do but rather encouraged me to think things through carefully before making a decision. I was extremely grateful to have his guidance during my rocky beginning on the Camino. I also had the pleasure of walking with Bill and got to know him better as a person. We talked about many topics such as Spanish culture, education, and family. Walking the Camino was even more difficult than I imagined as it requires stamina. Seeing how Bill took on the Camino with ease gave me a newfound respect for him. He is truly a one of a kind professor.

Self Eval

“A threat leads to nothing if it is not accepted. In fighting the good fight, you should never forget that. Just as you should never forget that both attacking and fleeing are part of the fight. What isn’t part of the fight is becoming paralyzed by fear.”

As I walked along the secluded highway going towards Sobrado dos Monxes, I looked down at my cell phone to the alarming notification “He [Portuguese creep] moved backwards to Baamonde yesterday” My stomach dropped and the comfort of being alone was suddenly stripped away leaving me desperate to be somewhere, anywhere but in solitude. My heart began to race as I looked over my shoulder. The sharp winding road blocked any view of oncoming pedestrians. I looked ahead only to be met with the never ending asphalt road that was my Camino. I remembered passing a few pilgrims awhile back and reluctantly slowed my pace down. “ He can be anywhere along my path by now. What if he decided to do the entire 40 km stage today? If I walk slower he will surely catch up to me any minute since I started walking so late.” I convinced myself. I stepped up my pace until each step began to send a shooting pain down the center of my lower legs. According to my navigator, I still had another 9.5 km to reach the end of the stage. Sweat dripped down my back as the scorching sun beat against my skin. Hobbling along, I looked back over my shoulder every now.

The “incident” took place the night of my arrival at the starting point of El Camino Frances, Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. After an inspirational pep talk from our hospitalero, a couple of my classmates and I decided to go out for dinner. As we walked out of the albergue, we were greeted by a familiar face, a Korean girl named Diana. We invited her to stay in our small room that accommodated 4 pilgrims. She thanked us and hurriedly went to check in so she could come with us to dinner. Later that evening as we prepared for bed, a Portuguese man swung open the curtain to our room. He began to talk to anybody who would listen. Annie L pointed out that I understood Spanish. The Portuguese excitedly directed his conversation at me ranting about having walked the Camino numerous times and traveling the country by foot. He boasted that he had met a few of my classmates in Lourdes but had left them far behind. “What you walk in a week, I can walk in a couple of days.” He said matter of factly. Over the course of the evening, the Portuguese entered our room two additional times unannounced. I didn’t give his interactions much thought until I rolled over in bed and saw him perched on the edge of the wall that separated our room from his. His eyes were wide and wild as he rapidly skimmed the room back and forth with a big grin on his face. Diana was on the top bunk closest to him. She was packing her stuff and giggled when she looked up to see him peering into our room. I saw him disappear and got up from the bottom bunk to tell Maddie of my observation. My back was to him and she looked over and whispered “he’s still sitting up there.” I quickly turned and there he was again. I crawled back into bed and rolled over so my back was facing him. His actions were undoubtedly strange but I decided to ignore the situation.

It wasn’t too long after that I was awoken by a shining light. I looked up and saw it was coming from the room next door. Suddenly, an arm swung over the edge of the wall in the direction where Diana was laying. I closed my eyes so he would think I was asleep. I heard her gasp and then he whispered “shhh it’s ok.” My skin crawled. Somehow I managed to fall asleep again but soon again was awoken by a shining light in my face. “Hey let’s go look at the moon. It’s magical,” The Portuguese whispered. “No. Go to sleep” I replied assertively. He then disappeared into the night. My friend Annie also woke up when he entered the room and asked what he had said. I considered going to search for the hospitalero to report the incident but wasn’t sure if he slept in the building. Our dormitory was not connected to the main albergue so that meant going outside in the dark. I ran the risk of being followed or attacked by the creepy Portuguese. I made the decision to stay put but was unable to sleep the rest of the night out of fear that he may come back and try to attack me. Annie L offered to switch beds with me so she would have to deal with him if he came back. I told her no but later crawled into bed with her for comfort. At various points during night I could hear the Portuguese get out of bed and pace in the hallway right in front of my room. My heart began to race every time I heard the slightest noise. I dozed off to sleep sometime around 6 am as sleepy pilgrims began to prepare for that morning’s walk.

I awoke from an alert on my watch indicating that my heart rate remained elevated as I slept. Suddenly, the occurrence from the previous night raced through my head. I wanted to talk to Diana because she seemed unsurprised by the creeps weird actions and a bit naïve. In fact, I had seen her go outside with this creep right before bedtime. Diana was packing up to leave at that moment and asked her if the Portuguese had tried grabbing her during the night. Judging by the expression on her face, she was confused and didn’t understand what I was asking. I slowly asked her the same question again and demonstrated the act of grabbing. “Oh no no,” she assured me. I advised her that it probably wasn’t a good idea to walk with the Portuguese because he seemed a bit odd. She nodded with agreement and said quietly “He’s scary.” I was a bit relieved that she had realized his manner wasn’t entirely normal.

Annie L and I were the last pilgrims in the dormitory that morning. We sat on our beds packing when suddenly the curtain flew open and I looked up to see the Portuguese standing there visibly agitated. He pointed his finger at me and began to yell “ You can either have a good Camino or you can have a bad one. You better shut your fucking mouth because you don’t know me and I don’t know you. Now the Korean girl doesn’t want to walk with me because she’s scared. Do you know what she told me this morning “Please don’t hurt me.” And your friend has been in the town all morning pacing back and forth.” He became more enraged as he spoke and continued “ I don’t care if you are a woman I can hurt you.” He made reference to the ground as if threatening to bury me. He cussed at me some more and then spat on the floor before leaving. I was speechless as I turned to Annie L who was sitting there wide eyed and confused.

What should I do in a situation like this? I was conflicted between reporting it in that instance or letting it slide for the time being. If I went to tell the hospitalero, then surely the Portuguese would become even more enraged. I ran the risk of being targeted at any given moment. I decided to postpone my start date and check in with the professor. I was also torn between going home or starting the pilgrimage. “Is this walk really worth risking my safety?” I thought. Having had previous experience in healthcare, I had often dealt with patients with an array of mental health issues. I took a threat very seriously especially given his aggressive demeanor. One doesn’t know what a person is capable of. Thus, I debated all day long whether I wanted to stay or not.

The proceeding weeks were filled with some discouragement and stress to say the least. I was able to obtain a photo of the Portuguese and informed the hospitalero Cesar of the incident in Saint Jean. He was very supportive and assured me that I didn’t have anything to worry about during my stay in his albergue. The following morning I went out with some classmates and received a call from Harry urging me to return to the albergue that very moment. The Portuguese had shown up on the doorstep looking for me and the police were called. I spent many hours waiting at the local Pamplona police station only to be informed that they wouldn’t be able to help me. “A threat is not a crime. We cannot do anything about that unless he has harmed you physically,” said one of the officers. “So what you are saying is that you can’t help me until he tries to kill me?” I said angrily. “People make threats all the time.” He said unconcerned. Next step, talk with the Guardia Civil (state patrol). The officer quickly typed away as I repeated my story for the second time. He facilitated my request for a restraining order and explained the next step, wait for the judge’s review and final decision. This was a major interruption in my Camino since I had to play the waiting game. Meanwhile the guardia was on the hunt for The Portuguese’s whereabouts. They located him the next morning in Estella. Third step, go to the city of his arrest and give a statement for the third time.

After my request for a restraining order was denied in Pamplona but granted in Estella, the Portuguese took a bus back to his place of origin (or so the Guardia reported) and I continued on my Camino. I was relieved to have my order of protection and to be done repeating myself. I felt a little disappointed that my Camino had started out so rocky but I was determined to get back on track and avoid future interruptions. I wanted to erase my beginning and create a new one. What better way to start out fresh than switch my Camino route completely? It seemed like a good idea. Or so I thought.

As I neared the final stretch of el Camino, I received notice that the Portuguese had returned. Coincidentally he chose the northern route, my route. Just as I had gained the independence to venture off on my own. The day after learning of his presence on the trail, I did walk alone though despite the recommendation that I not be left alone. I had come to enjoy spending time with myself and walking at my own pace-not too fast or too slow. I also had assumed that he was days ahead and would let me be. He must have realized I was a couple days behind and backtracked on the trail.

I was a mix of emotions as I frantically walked down the highway. No longer did I feel carefree but was cautiously looking over my shoulder expecting to see him at any given moment. My uneasiness then turned into anger. “How dare he have the nerve to show up again especially right now. Just as he ruined the beginning of my pilgrimage, he’s trying too do the same with the end. He’s like a dark shadow looming over. I wont succumb to fear.” I told myself determined. I straightened my posture and clenched my fists as I walked. Suddenly, the situation began to take on more significance as a familiar thought came to my mind. Like Paulo Coelho in The Pilgrimage, I was able to chase away and avoid any confrontation with my black dog for awhile but never fully faced my demon, which was fear. Little did I know that his presence would remain lingering along my path until I chose to dominate him or remain enslaved by my own fearfulness. It wasn’t until I was on the trail contemplating what to do that I began to experience a moment of self awareness over my emotions. I realized that fear is consuming and will only take away from the rest of my positive experiences on El Camino. I realized that my determination is greater than any intimidation I may face for I had already made it this far. I chose to exercise self confidence, which changed how I reacted to being threatened. If I were to see him, I would stand my ground and put up a fight if necessary. I would no longer allow fear to consume my way of life. I slowed my pace, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply. With the sun gleaming overhead and birds swaying with the breeze, I began to notice once more the beauty that was my Camino.

The Three Strengths

In the beginning of my pilgrimage, I was told that the Camino will strengthen one first physically, second mentally, and last spiritually. As the kilometers on the shell markers become less, I am now just realizing how far I’ve come. Laying in bed that first night in Roncesvalles, I was awoken several times due to aching pain in my legs. Hobbling down the pitch black dormitory in the middle of the night, I had never experienced so much physical pain. Stretching on the cold bathroom floor was all I could do to relieve my discomfort. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get up tomorrow. How the hell am I going to walk?” I thought to myself. Although my legs felt like jelly, I was able to walk the next day and the next. With each step that I take, I can feel my body getting stronger. I can now say that I’ve climbed mountains; reaching the top is an exhilarating feeling. My mentality has also benefited from my pilgrimage. When my body feels like it cannot take a single step further, I focus on anything else but my physical suffering. Before noticing, I have arrived at my destination and the pain has dissipated. Getting from the beginning to endpoint is all about mind over matter. I can have shooting pains from shin splints and the friction from walking can rub my foot raw but I am able to keep walking. I just need to remind myself that I can and I will. In addition, I have a newfound optimism as I realize situations could be far more worse than they are. The beds in the albergue are full? No problem I will sleep on the floor. At least I’m not sleeping on the sidewalk. Experiencing a new way of life on the Camino has allowed me to dig deeper into what spirituality means to me as a person. I want to change some aspects of my way of life. For example, being in a world of materialistic things isn’t very important to me anymore. Living out of a pack for 2 months has helped me gain a new perspective for there are many things I can make do without and be just as happy.

My Camino Sign

I met a Spanish woman named Pepa near the end of my walk from Gontan to Vilalba. Slim and short in stature, she managed to keep a good distance between us the entire walk no matter how hard I tried to quicken my pace. In the outskirts of the city, I saw an elderly man sitting on a rock outside of his house approach her, which made her come to a halt. “Aha! I’m going to catch up finally” I thought to myself. “Hola, buenos dias” I greeted them both as I walked by. “Hola de donde es usted?” The elderly man with white hair asked. “ Soy de Washington, Estados Unidos.” And just like that, he tangled me in his web of conversation and I was trapped. The elderly man made every attempt to keep our attention. He tried to crack jokes and I looked over at Pepa who was getting impatient by the minute. Finally she turned to me and said “This old man spends too much time alone. He will keep us here all day if we let him.” She abruptly ended the conversation explaining that we had to keep walking. Once we were well on our way, she turned to me and said “I was very excited to look back and see a female walking El Camino alone! It is generally ok. You haven’t had any problems being alone I’m sure.” I smiled and asked if she was walking alone. I learned that Pepa has walked the Camino before. She decided to walk alone this time around and planned on arriving in Santiago the same day as I, June 21. Pepa only had a couple weeks of vacation before returning to work. Lost in conversation, we soon arrived at her hotel. She told me that it was a very good price and I decided to stay there as well.

As the elevator took us up to the fifth floor, she asked what I did for a living. I told her I was a full time college student pursuing a degree in medicine. She looked at me surprised and said “Ah! We share a common interest then. I studied medicine for 11 years to become an internal medicine specialist.” Ding. The door opened and she stepped out. I was left in a state of shock.

That same morning on my walk I was thinking about the direction of my life moving forward. Since the beginning of my higher education, I had been set on a career in healthcare. My prior occupation in medical assisting had reiterated this desire. My long-term goal was to become a mid level healthcare provider, PA-C. So as I walked along that day, I wondered whether the Camino would give me a sign, even the slightest one, to show me I was moving in the right direction. I thought it was possible but very unlikely.

The next morning I walked down to the Hotel’s cafeteria for breakfast. I sat down at the small square table with my zumo de naranja and piece of toast. “May I sit with you?” A familiar voice asked. I looked up to see my new specialist friend Pepa. I asked about her educational journey. Pepa told me that she studied in the second oldest medical school in Europe (I cant recall the name). She is currently working as an inpatient internal medicine specialist. She said that Spain has a very aging population. Many patients that she sees are in their 90s. That would explain why I see so many elderly people in the towns I pass! She said that being a doctor is the occupation that allows for most stability as it pays well and there is always a need for healthcare professionals.

She mentioned that those who decide to pursue a higher education in Spain wait to have children until completion of their degree. She didn’t agree with such norm because more and more younger women in their 30’s seek fertility treatment due to prolonged use of contraception. She had her first child at the age of 20. While it was difficult to raise a child and study, she said it was worth it. Her second child she had 9 years later and was more difficult because of her age. She said “I remember chasing my son around at 20 years old and it was no problem. Can you imagine doing the same at 30 years old? There is no energy left by then.” She advised me to think about starting a family sooner than later.

Her final advice:

Those who decide to pursue medicine need to have a passion for it because he/she will be required to put his/her life on hold to obtain their degree. Study hard! There’s no waiting until the last minute to study for the test because all material goes into depth and is critical to know. Be prepared to spend long hours with the books and completing contact hours.

I was most certainly grateful for having the opportunity to meet and chat with Pepa. I didn’t anticipate the Camino granting my request and definitely not so soon! They say that the Camino will give you what you need. Today, I have received the reassurance I need to keep walking on the Camino I have started. I will not question my direction any longer, I will simply keep moving forward.

Walking Solo

I am now 5 weeks into my pilgrimage and today was the first time I experienced walking alone (well sort of). The previous night I lay in the small albergue of Cadavedo anticipating my walk the next day. My group was half a stage behind and Aidan couldn’t walk due to an injury. My main concern was missing an arrow and getting lost. When I first started on the northern route, I spent half the time enjoying the coastal beauty and the other half feeling frustrated at the yellow spray painted arrows. These little yellow arrows did not provide as much guidance as I had experienced on the French route. Sometimes it felt like hundreds of meters would be traversed with no arrow in sight. At times I would break out into a cold sweat and feel my anxiety rise. Countless times I turned to Annie L and asked “Have you seen a yellow arrow at all?” She hesitantly replied “No, maybe we should ask someone if this is El Camino?” A few seconds later, A shell would appear on the ground or the spray painted arrow on a pole. It never failed. Have I mentioned that the arrow can be deceiving? I recall walking in an open pasture and abruptly the shell instructed the pilgrim to take a left. Annie and I stepped over muddy, rocky, wet overgrown grass only to be led to a dead end by the freeway. I turned to her and shouted “This is where the arrow told us to go! Grrr” I was walking on the right side of the trail and had seen fresh footsteps going forward. Yet I had failed to see the fresh footprints on the left side coming back from the dead end. Perhaps the most frustrating part about the marker was coming to a section where there was three different arrows pointing in three different directions. My arms would fling up towards the sky in despair. “No I don’t want options, just tell me where to go!” I often said. It wasn’t until Guemes that I learned to have more appreciation for the little yellow arrows. During our meeting in the albergue that night, the hospitalero said “You all are very creative people huh? The northern Camino is meant for creative people and that is why there are so many options.” Maybe he had a point. Regardless, I did not want to exercise creativity by finding my way in the complete darkness.

To my misfortune, I developed an upper respiratory infection that very night. I couldn’t breath out of my nose and my throat began to feel sore. The loud snoring from one pilgrim didn’t help either. I was abruptly awoken at 5:30 am by an argument brewing in the kitchen between a couple of pilgrims. I lay awake until 6 am and decided to finally get up. I quietly retrieved my pack and went into the brightly lit kitchen. My preparation that morning was minimal. I threw on some thick slacks over my leggings, put on my rain jacket, and slipped into my blue Solomon trail runners. I sat on the couch for awhile with Aidan as sleepy pilgrims began to emerge. I walked outside to watch the sunrise. Rays of pink, light purple, and orange lined the horizon like a watercolor canvas. The cool breeze whipped my hair around as I watched the sun glimmer and slowly fill the land with warmth. A stunning view. I went back inside as a pilgrim was fastening his pack to leave.
“Do you mind if I start walking with you?” I asked eagerly.
“Not at all.”

He was tall and slender with a full beard. As we walked, I learned that his name is Lucas and he is an architect from Argentina. He had started walking the Camino not to long ago from Gijon and planned on walking to Santiago. It became quickly apparent that he had a passion for animals, especially cats. He told me that growing up, he would go sleep outside with his pet because no animals were allowed inside. Along the first stretch of the walk, it seemed like we passed a dozen or so cats. He stopped to admire an orange Calico cat that was perched on top of a rock. The cat wrapped his brown and orange tail around his body as he seemingly posed for a picture. Lucas told me that a couple years ago he was driving and slammed on his breaks when he saw a dog with a cat in its mouth on the road. His father sitting in the passengers seat alarmingly asked “What’s wrong?”Lucas parked the car and ran into the street to save the defenseless little animal. Although the cat was badly injured, he eventually recovered with a little TLC. Lucas grinned as he showed me a picture of his cat on his cellphone.

We kept an even pace as we talked about our lives. He asked me what I did for a living and I explained that I was currently a full time student who was walking El Camino for spring quarter. He was very fascinated by my unique program and asked why I thought the college had students do such a thing. I thought about his question for a few seconds and responded
“They say that the Camino will change a person if he/she is willing to embrace change. I’ve personally never done anything this extreme. It’s my first time traveling out of the U.S., hiking, and being entirely alone. Walking the Camino with everything I need in my pack makes me realize that I don’t need much to be happy. I was used to living a life with a bunch of excessive thing-clothes, shoes, jewelry etc. When I get home, I plan on going through my belongings and donating what I don’t use. Walking the Camino has also given me a greater appreciation for simply having shelter and a warm bed. There was a night where I slept on the floor because the beds were full in the albergue. I was thankful to not be sleeping in the street. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have had the same perspective”

Going up a stretch of rocky hills, I began to fall behind until Lucas was completely out of sight. I sat down on a rock as I developed light headedness and tingly hands. I felt short of breath and then developed mild tunnel vision. I began to panic slightly at the thought of passing out alone in the woods. I drank some water and took a few deep breaths. It took a few moments for my symptoms to pass. I trudged on through the trail until I was back along the highway. About 50 meters ahead, I could see Lucas walking slowly and then looking back. I picked up the pace grateful that he had taken the time to wait for me. As I got closer, he looked back and raised his arms palms up and shrugged as if saying “where’d you go?”

We arrived at the quiet fishing port of Luarca around 10 am. This itself felt like a great accomplishment being that I’ve only completed a stage this early twice in my entire Camino. We took a seat outside a local bar and I ordered my usual-zumo de pina with a croissant. Lucas ordered the classic café con leche y un bocadillo. After a short break, Lucas decided to walk an extra 20 km. Although we had only known each other for a few hours, I could sense the feeling of unity that the Camino had created. We embraced like old pals and I thanked him for walking with me. “Buen Camino!” I exclaimed as he walked away. Would I ever see my new Argentine friend again?

A Late Start

Ten am had struck by the time my group set out from the city of Aviles. Aidan R, Anne, and I were one of the last people to leave the dormitory that accommodated 48 sleepy pilgrims. I recovered my shoes from the empty rack and propped down on a covered bench area outside of the albergue. There was an another more private dormitory directly across from the main albergue, and I was surprised to see another rack full of pilgrim shoes. I had expected the rest of my classmates, Aiden T, Annie L, Maddie, and Jacqueline to be long gone. While they had arrived late the previous evening, to my surprise they were greeted with a special accommodation- an entire private room to themselves! For this reason, they had not been awakened at 7 am on the dot like the rest of us. Almost an hour later, I saw Aiden emerge from his room. He smiled at us and said he would go wake the others. One by one, they recovered their shoes and made their way down the steps. We walked to the bar across the street for the usual breakfast-tortilla y Zumo de naranja. Then we parted ways with two classmates and set out for El Camino.

Shakira was blasting through my headphones for most of my walk today. The music carried me through the busy inner city, along the highway, through valleys, and ultimately to my destination, Muros De Nalon. There were a few steep inclines along the way and I took them on with full force. My calves were burning, sweat trickled down my back, and my feet were sore. I tuned out my physical weary state and focused on walking to the beat of the music. Once I reached the peak of the hill, a surge of energy ran through me. I felt as light as a feather and unstoppable. I was no longer walking, I was beginning to float. I reached a stretch where the Camino was level-adorned by a straight row of trees on my left side, a dense forest on my right, and faded leaves scattered on the ground. My mind began to wander and I found myself thinking about my loved ones back home. I missed them so much and couldn’t help but feel a little homesick. I looked ahead in the distance and saw a white figure standing still in the middle of the trail. As I got closer, I realized that it was a dog who was an older reflection of my dog Migaja (Spanish for bread crumbs). I got a little teary eyed at her sight, especially once I took a closer look at her. She had bloodshot eyes and her scruffy white fur felt coarse against my fingertips. Judging by her physical appearance, she had little interaction with people. She hesitantly wagged her tail and began to follow me as I walked on. I told her that she had to stay there and she obeyed. I looked back every once in awhile until she disappeared. Later that night, I asked my classmates who were trailing behind if they had met my furry friend. They had not.

My group and I reached albergue La Naranja Peregrina around 5 pm. We were greeted by Aidan and Anne. My face was sticky with dried sweat and my cheeks were rosy red but I was gleaming. We had been informed a few hours prior that the albergue was full but arrived anyways in hopes of being offered a spot, even if that meant sleeping on the floor. I spoke to the albergue host who unfortunately did not have any spare beds left. He kindly offered a tent and a spot in the backyard. I took the tent and thanked him. Maddie and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Sometimes laughter is the only thing one can do to maintain composure. I was a little disappointed about not getting a bed but glad I wouldn’t be sleeping on the street. If I were placed in a similar situation only a couple months ago, I would have probably burst into tears. The Camino is teaching me to be more optimistic and to see the good in all situations.

P.S. I am sitting on Aidan’s bed writing this blog and an Australian pilgrim offered me his roll out mattress to sleep on. I accepted 🙂

True Friends

I was looking forward to admiring the scenery and a change of pace as Aidan and I stepped on the bus that fateful morning. The sun was shining and we both excitedly awaited our arrival to our next destination. Not too long after we took off, however, I began to feel a strange sensation. Never had I longed more for slowness as I sat hunched over my seat, nauseated as the bus driver whipped around corners at an alarming speed. I tried drinking water and took a few deep breaths. I made the mistake of looking up over my seat as the driver made a sharp turn and stepped on the gas even more. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back in the seat as vertigo began to overtake me. My extremities began to feel weak and tingly. I gathered all of the energy inside of me to lean across the aisle and tap Aidan on the shoulder. “Hey do you have any alcohol?” I half whispered. He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. It took a moment to think of the correct term. “Like rubbing alcohol? I feel like I’m going to pass out” I finally murmured. I already knew the response and began to feel desperate. To my surprise, he nodded his head yes and immediately began to dig through his pack. Meanwhile, my stomach threatened to expel the little I had eaten that morning, vanilla wafers and chocolate crunch. I looked down at the only thing that would suffice a puke bag. There was no time left to salvage my warm freshly baked chocolate croissant, baguette, ham or cheese. My eyes were watery as I closed the grocery bag and stuffed it between my feet. “Aidan do you have a plastic bag I can have? I’m going to vomit.” He rummaged through his pack and handed me a crinkled grocery bag. I opened the bag ready to hurl and to my dismay, there were a bunch of tiny holes that had punctured the bottom. “Aidan this one is torn at the bottom.” I turned towards my red pack to look for a bag. Time was ticking. “I found one Aidan.” I turned in his direction and saw as he held my barfed-on groceries with his bare hands. “Oh no, I already puked in that bag!” He smiled as he tried to maintain his composure and said “Oh that’s cool.”

In an attempt to console me he said, “You know what they say, you’re not true friends with someone until you’ve held their puke in your hands.”
And this was the defining moment of our friendship. Thank you Camino.

Little Spanish Lady

With our hair blowing in the breeze and gleaming sunshine overhead, Aidan and I arrived in the small town of Najera as the locals prepared for siesta. Rugged hills along with a bridge overlooking the Najerilla river adorned the small town, creating a picturesque view. We made our way through the narrow streets in search for a restroom. A small bakery displaying delicate pastries seemed like a promising option. I ordered a milhoja- a dessert made with stacked layers of puff pastry filled with dulce de leche and another pastry filled with layer upon layered of cream. The desserts were neatly placed in a white box and wrapped with a thin silk ribbon.“Perdon, tiene un bano?” I asked the woman behind the cash register. She sympathetically shook her head no. We continued our search and with a little bit of camino magic, spotted our classmate Collin making his way through the town. Together we found an open bar, and I reluctantly ordered a zumo de naranja in exchange for a restroom break. Afterwards, we decided to relax by the river while the albergue opened. August and Annie also joined our mini siesta.

Aidan and I were disappointed to learn that the albergue had a curfew of 10 pm because we had already planned our outing. While the rest of the group checked into the albergue, we walked around checking the rules of other albergues. Exhausted, we threw our stuff on a bench and took a seat. A Spanish lady with graying hair and entirely dressed in black sat down next to us. I called a list of albergues in town only to receive the same response, “Doors close at 10 pm.” A bit discouraged, we walked around until we spotted a hostel; no time curfew! We checked in and made our way back towards the river for another siesta. The cool lush grass was refreshing against the warmth of my body. I gazed up towards the sky, creating figures in my mind with the soft and buoyant clouds. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the calming sensation of the moving river stream. Suddenly, I sat up and asked Aidan where the desserts were. “What are you talking about?” He asked, confused. “ Oh no Anne! left them in the shaded area of the bench we were sitting on awhile ago. I’ll go back for them right now.” I was confident our pastries would still be sitting in the same spot. “Who would think of grabbing a package with unknown content?” I thought to myself. My mouth began to water as I imagined biting into the savory treat.

“Anne! Oh my gosh you aren’t going to believe this!” Aidan exclaimed as he rushed to my side. “ As I neared the bench, I saw the little Spanish lady eating something. I got a little closer and saw her take a big bite of my creamy puff pastry! I stopped dead in my tracks and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.”
“Nooo! Did she see you?” I asked eagerly.
“I don’t think so! I didn’t go up to her and came running back to tell you,” He laughed. While a little disappointed, we couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. I was grateful that our pastries did not go to waste. I was also impressed that little Spanish lady had the courtesy to wait an hour before indulging in our pastries.