We arrived safely in Madrid after a long, and for many, restless plane ride. Spanish immigration control was a breeze; they barely glanced at our passports as we passed through. Outside the immigration gate, Fr. Tim and I purchased international cell phones so that we can call home in case of emergency. <We collected our bags and headed to the place where our bus was to meet us. An hour or so later, we were met by the last three pilgrims arriving on different flights and we made our way south to the Diocese of Granada and the small town of Compotejar where we were assigned our host families.
The drive south was beautiful. An hour or so outside of Madrid we began to encounter olive groves. They covered the land from horizon to horizon, rising in green swells over the landscape as the flat plains began to rise into mountains. Here and there, these groves gave way to small ranches where cattle with wicked looking chewed their cud in the shade.
After a short stop for water and a bathroom and a three hour ride, we finally found ourseles in Compotejar. Unfortuntely, upon arrival, none of our hosts were to be found. They were at siesta. After some frantic calling, a helpful woman came to the bus and explained that they were not expecting us for some time yet, and that most of the community was resting away from the midday heat. We asked permission to celebrate Mass in the Chuch while waiting for our families to arrive. This was granted, and after a beautiful celebration of Thanksgiving, we were finally introduced to our hosts. I spend my days in Compotejar with the other two priests and four seminarians. All of the family, except for the oldest so who was left to host us, had abandoned the house and gone to Granada for the week to make roo for us.
Compotejar was amazing! In this pueblo of 1500 people, we were fed like kings, and we all quickly adapted to the slow mañana approach to life as lived by the people in the village. All of us were overwhelmed by the generosity of the people. On our first full day in the village every girl received an authentic flamenco skirt to be worn that evening for a dance in the town square. The boys received authentic pieces of flamenco clothing as well. We learned that all of the women in the parish had spent a month sewing these articles.
Highlights of the week included a day trip into Granada to visit a monastery, the Cathedral, the tombs of Ferdinand and Isabella, and a long and difficult walk to the top of a mountain for lunch with the parish community who had assembled there to feed us. We also danced flamenco, visited an olive oil plant, and celebrated Mass for the Feast of the Assumption of Mary on top of a mountain as the sun was setting.
The next day, amid tearful goodbyes, we returned to our bus and made our way bak to Madrid.
We arrived here in Madrid yesterday. It was one adventure after another until we finally, aound 10:00 PM, found where we were supposed to be staying (we arrived in the city around 4:00 PM). >As it turns out, we are among four other groups staying at a high school. The gym is too hot for sleeping, so we are roughing it in the school yard. Four other groups of pilgrims will be joining us at the same facility, so who knows how many of us will eventually be staying there. For now, it is at least a place to leave our heavy bags during the day.
Graces abound so far. We are learning the value of living simply. We are seeing the presence of Christ in the hospitaqlity and generosity of others. we are learning that we need not rush headlong into every moment of the day; it is ok to relax a little. Likewise, we are reminded that a pilgrimage always entails a degree of suffering and sacrifice, and that these can have redemptive value. I wish I could say more, but I am currently at an internet cafe paying for this computer by the minute, and we have left the pilgrims in the center of the city to fend for themselves until our return to them. Suffice it to say that all of us are safe, everyone is in relatively good health, an no one seems ready to jump ship and reutrn home. These in themselves are graces. I will write again as soon as I have acess to the internet again (there was no access in compotejar).
Until then, Dios les bendiga.
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