Issue nº 224

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Twenty years later: Ave Fénix

Taking the road to Santiago twenty years ago, I stop at Villafranca Del Bierzo. One of the most emblematic figures of the walk, Jesus Jato, built a shelter for pilgrims there. People came from the village and, thinking that Jato was a sorcerer, set fire to the place, but he was not intimidated, and together with his wife Mari Carmen he began all over again – the place became known as Ave Fénix (Hail, Phoenix), the bird reborn from the ashes.

Jato is famous for preparing the “burning”, a sort of alcoholic beverage of Celtic origin that we drink in a sort of ritual, which is also Celtic. On this cold spring evening, at the Ave Fênix there is a Canadian, two Italians, three Spaniards and an Australian. And Jato tells of something that happened to me in 1986 and that I never had the courage to include in the book “Diary of a Magus”, certain that the readers would not believe it.

“A local priest passed by to say that a pilgrim had come through Villafranca that morning and had not reached Cebreiro (the next leg of the walk), so for sure he was lost in the forest”, said Jato. “I went out to look for him and only found him at two o’clock in the afternoon, sleeping in a cave. It was Paulo. When I woke him up, he complained: ‘Can’t I even sleep for just an hour on this road?’ I explained that he had not slept for just an hour; he had been there for more than a whole day.”

I remember as if it were yesterday: I was feeling tired and depressed, so I decided to stop for a while, came across the cave and lay down on the floor. When I opened my eyes and saw the fellow, I was sure that only a few minutes had passed, because I had not even moved an inch. Until today I do not know exactly how that had happened, nor do I look for any explanations – I have learned to live with mystery.

We all drank the “burning”, accompanying Jato’s “wooh!” while he spoke the ancestral verses. At the end the Canadian girl came over to me.

“I am not the type of person who is looking for saints’ tombs, sacred rivers, and places of miracles or apparitions. For me, making a pilgrimage is celebrating. My father and my sister died young, both of heart attacks, and maybe I have a propensity for that. So, since I may leave this life early, I have to know as much as possible of the world and relish all the happiness I deserve”.

“When my mother died, I promised myself to be happy when the sun is reborn each and every morning. To look towards the future, but never sacrifice the present because of that. To always accept love whenever it crossed my path. To live each minute and never postpone anything that can make me happy.”

I remember 1986, when I too left everything aside to make this journey that was to change my life. At that time many people criticized me, feeling that it was crazy – my wife was the only one to lend me the support I needed. The Canadian girl tells me that the same happened to her, and hands me a text she carries with her:

“This is part of a speech that Theodore Roosevelt, President of the United States, gave at the Sorbonne in Paris on the 23rd April 1910.”

She read what was on the paper:

“Critics are worth absolutely nothing: all they do is point an accusing finger at the moment the strong suffer a defeat, or when they commit a mistake. True credit goes to those who are in the arena, their faces covered in dust and sweat and blood, fighting on bravely.

“True credit goes to the one who makes mistakes, who fails but little by little gets things right, because there is no effort without mistake. He knows great enthusiasm and deep devotion, and spends his energy on something worthwhile. That is the true man, who in the best of hypotheses will know victory and conquest, and in the worst of hypotheses will fall, yet even in his fall he is great, because he has lived with courage and stands above those small-minded souls who will never know victory or defeat.”

The Symbol of the Shell

On the day the boat with the remains of James came to Galicia, a severe storm threatened to smash it against the rocky coast.

A man passing by saw the scene and entered the sea on his horse to try to help the Mariners, but he too fell victim to the fury of the elements and began to drown. Believing that all was lost, he asked the heavens to have mercy on his soul.

At that moment, the storm calms and both the boat and man on his horse are gently thrown onto a beach. There, the disciples Athanasius and Theodore notice that the horse is covered with scallop shells.

In tribute to the heroic gesture, these shells become the symbol of the way, and can be found in buildings along the route, the bridges, monuments, and especially in the backpacks of the pilgrims.

Trying to Cheat Destiny

On his way to Galicia during the religious wars that ended with the Spanish expelling the Arabs from the Iberian peninsula, the Emperor Charlemagne's troops face a traitor. Before the battle, he prayed to Santiago, who revealed to him the names of 140 soldiers who would die in the fight. Charlemagne left these men in the camp, and went to fight.

Later that afternoon, victorious and without a single casualty in his army, he returned to discover that the camp had been set on fire and 140 men were dead.

Portal of Glory

Arriving in Santiago, the pilgrim must meet a series of rituals, one of which mandates he place a hand on the beautiful porch at the front door of a church. Legend has it that King Ferdinand II commissioned the work of art in 1187 to an artisan called Matthew.

For years, Matthew worked on the marble, carving many figures, including his own figure kneeling in the back of the center column. When Matthew finished his work, the townspeople decided to pierce his eyes so that he could never repeat such a marvel anywhere else in the world.