Day XXIV: La Faba -> Triacastela; 15.9mi.

🛏:

Albergue Lemos, 9€. This place has the most beautiful balcony and the big fuzzy blankets make up for the shower drains being slower than the shower. (We collectively almost flooded the bathroom, oops!)

Enjoying the aforementioned balcony with my supermarket-constructed gin and tonic. Confession: I’m not a huge wine fanatic; I like approximately 12% of the wines we’ve tried here, tolerate 20% and my friend gets the remaining 68%. It works out really really well for her. Wine is super cheap here (and often times unlimited), mixed drinks are not, so I resort to supermarket post-dinner drinks.

I’ve spent a lot of these miles reminiscing about my upbringing and my childhood, both in conversation and to myself. In the midst of the reorientation lately has been, I find comfort in the memories and the stories. I think it’s the re-remembering who I aspired to be and who I can be part.

I think of little me who went through a phase where she’d wake up every morning to take photos of the sunrise on her disposable camera. The longest days of her life were the ones spent waiting for those photos to be developed.

I think of the girl who spent an entire summer walking neighbors dogs and doing odd chores with her sister to raise money for a friend in need. And the one who couldn’t ever sleep the night before a “new kid” would be in class because she couldn’t wait to make sure they had a friend.

I think of the daughter who was constantly reprimanded for inviting more people than her mom had told her she could. She couldn’t help it, she compulsively included others, leaving anyone out broke her heart because she knew how much it broke her own to be excluded.

I think of the sixth grader in her first debate class.

My teacher introduced the concept of debate with Locke vs. Hobbes; are people primarily good by nature or are they inherently wicked? He had us designate our position by picking a side of the room. I remember proudly planting myself on the side of the room that indicated my belief in the overall integrity of humanity. I can still feel my twelve-year-old heart sink as I watched the majority of my peers migrate to the opposite side of the room, including *a boy from my Sunday school class. He looked at me expectantly and even leaned over to whisper in my ear and “remind” me we’re all sinners and that’s why we need Jesus before walking across the room. I knew that, but what I heard in Sunday school, louder than the “we all fall short” mantra, was that I was supposed to love all people. Believing the best about others felt like the most loving thing my sixth grade self could do in that moment.

I didn’t have anything concrete to logically assist the few remaining people on my side of the room, sitting there just felt right.

It deviates a bit from the true debate topic, but I think I still believe that deep down most of us are only trying to navigate life the best we know how, referencing our past experiences and the way they’ve built our understanding of right and wrong. I want to believe the majority of us are just making mistakes while genuinely trying to do our best. In general it’s been a lot easier to believe that here than it has been at home lately, but I think I still think it’s true. (And I think sixth grade Kate would be proud of where we’ve landed).

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.” – E. Hemingway

* For the record, the boy from my Sunday school class and I remained close friends through high school. I haven’t talked to him in years but I’ve never stopped viewing him as someone who bravely stands up for what he believes in, regardless of how others respond. I think the world of that.

🎧:

I’ve said a lot of praise words about a lot of music these days, but this one has straight up claimed both my current favorite album and current favorite song for a month or two now. The first time I heard the song “Everyone’s Looking for Home” (and on frequent occasions since), I cried. Beyond any advice or opinions or words of consolation I’ve been told or reminded of lately is that song.

“How’s the road been lately? ..”