Domus Dei Departure

October 12

It is still quite dark in the mornings, until 8:00 or later, depending on the weather and where we are (among trees, etc.).  It's also foggy and sprinkling.  No one seems in a rush to get on the trail this morning.

We linger over breakfast:  bread left over from last night, plain biscuits (think British style), margarine and marmalades, and instant coffee or hot chocolate. Oh, I think there are juices, too.

I have the chance to speak with a young girl I'd observed at dinner the night before.  Everyone has their story, but she was clearly traveling alone and spoke English, French, and Spanish.  Frankly, I was curious about her.  She is American, had a grandmother who was French and Spanish, and she frequently goes on travel adventures by herself.  (In fact, I am the only one in the albergue who cannot speak more than one language; the volunteer speaks only English, but she obviously understands enough Spanish to follow Miguel's instructions and manage her duties.)

As we all finally prepare to head out, Miguel parks himself at his desk and gestures to certain people.  He has printed prayers/blessings--some on full-size red paper, others on half-size white--to which you sign your name and he adds his personal sello.  The red ones, he stamps in pre-arranged blank spaces; on the white sheets, he stamps right over the words.  Some people he hands a red paper, others white, and still others he lets leave without offering anything.  I ask what they are, and he simply gives me a white sheet.  I call Jerri over, but he indicates that she is to add her name under mine--we get one between us.  Clearly there is some pecking order I'm unaware of.  Perhaps a donation is required and we don't know?  In any case, my respect for him diminishes somewhat for even having such a hierarchy.