Introducing the Beloved Friends I Was Dreading to Be With

In an earlier posting, I expressed my love and appreciation for the friends I was leaving behind in San Francisco, but now I'd like to introduce two sets of friends I love and appreciate at a distance, through letters and, in the case of Jutta, throught a shared diary.  (We're now on Volume 3.)

Annie and Rosa are part of a small group of long-distance friends I call the Anminroti

Annie is from France.
Minako is from Japan.
Nicole is from San Francisco
Rosa is from Spain
and the ti stands for Tina.

I already knew Nicole from City College of San Francisco, where we taught from 1982 to 2014, when we both retired.  (We got our full-time jobs and our tenure the same year too!)

I met Annie in 2001 through Jean, a French man I met and dated when I lived in Algeria 1974-76.  He introduced us through letters he wrote both to Annie, who was living in San Francisco at the time, and to me.  Then through Annie, I met Minako and Rosa, who were classmates at City College, where they were all taking Nicole's Current Events class.

After all of them had moved back to their native countries, we corresponded through e-mail as a group.  Then in 2003 Annie hosted us all when she and her husband Jean-Paul were celebrating their fiftieth birthdays.  Before the rest of the Anminroti arrived in Brittany, I spent a week with Annie and her family in Andresy, outside of Paris, where Jutta (whom I'll introduce soon) joined us.

Rosa hosted Annie, Minako, and me in 2014 in Sant Cugat del Valles.

Both Annie and Rosa were extraordinary hosts, creating memories that would last a lifetime even if our lifetimes were not closer to the end than to the beginning!

Jutta, who joined Annie and me, was my penpal back in 1963, and I still have all her letters--so beautifully hand-written and often illustrated.

We met for the first time in 1997, when she, her husband, and their three almost-adult children came to San Francisco on what they thought would be their final trip as a family.

My meque (mejor que un esposo--better than a husband) Javier and I stayed in Bremen, Germany with Jutta and her husband for a week in 2011,and in 2014  Jutta and I also took a trip to Switzerland together to meet our favorite Swiss writer, whom she's met at book readings in Germany.

She and I have shared a diary--with  hand-written entries--since 2001.  We have "emissaries" bring it back and forth, and we are now on volume 3.  Nicole, at a music festival in Mali in 2010, got the diary from Jutta, who was in Mali working with teachers.  I used their photo on one of the cakes at my 70th birthday celebration!  Jutta, my penpal form 1963, and Nicole, a member of the Anminroti, had met!

So why was I dreading to be with these beloved friends?

Introducing the Beloved Friends I Was Dreading to Be With

In an earlier posting, I expressed my love and appreciation for the friends I was leaving behind in San Francisco, but now I'd like to introduce two sets of friends I love and appreciate at a distance, through letters and, in the case of Jutta, throughta shared diary.  (We're now on Volume 3.)

Annie and Rosa are part of a small group of long-distance friends I call the Anminroti

Annie is from France.
Minako is from Japan.
Nicole is from San Francisco
Rosa is from Spain
and the ti stands for Tina.

I already knew Nicole from City College of San Francisco, where we taught from 1982 to 2014, when we both retired.  (We got our full-time jobs and our tenure the same year too!)

I met Annie in 2001 through Jean, a French man I met and dated when I lived in Algeria 1974-76.  He introduced us through letters he wrote both to Annie, who was living in San Francisco at the time, and to me.  Then through Annie, I met Minako and Rosa, who were classmates at City College, where they were all taking Nicole's Current Events class.

After all of them had moved back to their native countries, we corresponded through e-mail as a group.  Then in 2003 Annie hosted us all when she and her husband Jean-Paul were celebrating their fiftieth birthdays.  Before the rest of the Anminroti arrived in Brittany, I spent a week with Annie and her family in Andresy, outside of Paris, where Jutta (whom I'll introduce soon) joined us.

Rosa hosted Annie, Minako, and me in 2015 in Sant Cugat del Valles just outside of Barcelona.

Both Annie and Rosa were extraordinary hosts, creating memories that would last a lifetime even if our lifetimes were not closer to the end than to the beginning!

Jutta, who joined Annie and me, was my penpal back in 1963, and I still have all her letters--so beautifully hand-written and often illustrated.

We met for the first time in 1997, when she, her husband, and their three almost-adult children came to San Francisco on what they thought would be their final trip as a family.

My meque (mejor que un esposo--better than a husband) Javier and I stayed in Bremen, Germany with Jutta and her husband for a week in 2011,and in 2014  Jutta and I also took a trip to Switzerland together to meet our favorite Swiss writer, whom she's met at book readings in Germany.

She and I have shared a diary--with  hand-written entries--since 2001.  We have "emissaries" bring it back and forth, and we are now on volume 3.  Nicole, at a music festival in Mali in 2010, got the diary from Jutta, who was in Mali working with teachers.  I used their photo on one of the cakes at my 70th birthday celebration!  Jutta, my penpal form 1963, and Nicole, a member of the Anminroti, had met!

So why was I dreading to be with these beloved friends?

Friends on the Post-Camino Trail--Madrid & Paris

As much as I love Annie, Rosa, and Jutta, I had a feeling of dread before the trip.  They're multi-lingual, and even though I speak French and Spanish as well as English  (I mean in addition to!),  I speak French and Spanish in a way that could annoy the French and Spanish, AND before meeting them I was writing messages in English like this in  an e-letter with the subject "Coming Out of the Cupboard:  I'm Vegan."

As for what I'd like to do, seeing you two is my number one "objective" since I went back to my former (1972) homes in Madrid last September.  But I do want to try all the vegan restaurants in Madrid that I can find, and I will understand if you two don't always go along. 

Yesterday I had a vegan potluck.  I didn't provide name cards saying, "Hello.  My name is Vegan Freak," but I know that's the perception of many non-vegans, so I'm going to be as polite but as assertive as I can be.  I'll be happy to go to non-vegan restaurants, too, but I don't want you two to suffer because of my being a "veganist."

One of my vegan friends thanked us all for the potluck saying that she was so happy to be at a gathering where she didn't have to ask "Is there meat in it?" about each dish.  Now it's "Is there meat or dairy?"  and  I know this can mean  culture-shock for some people.  The vegan authors of Vegan Freak:  Being Vegan in a Non-Vegan World Jenna and Bob Torres suggest that non-vegans think of vegans as some kind of exotic tribe found deep in the Amazonian jungle who haven't yet discovered fire or the number zero.  

I now have a Vegan Passport, but it's a little bit unrealistic.  For example, it explains the concept of vegan (in lots of different languages including Hausa, Igbo, Xhosa and Zulu)  and suggests that we ask the servers to read the page!  Servers are very busy people!  Also, it has a page showing what we vegans can eat so we can just point, but I'm afraid that if I pointed to a head of lettuce, they'd bring me the whole head on a plate!

To my surprise,  the response of Rosa, who had posed the question, "What would you like to do in Madrid?" was, "I'm bringing a list of all the vegetarian restaurants,"  She did!  Instead of rolling their eyes in exasperation, these wonderful friends joined me on my continuing pilgrimage to find good vegan meals! Here Rosa, Annie, and I are at Vivaburgers the night of our arrival in Madrid.

How to Dress for the Camino as Shown by The Pilgrim Virgin Mary

The Pilgrim Virgin Mary!

Michener's 1968 book Iberia (with it's final chapter on Santiago de Compostela) is one of the three books I've read with the greatest interest during three stages of the Camino--anticipation, the moment, and reflection.  (The other two are Grandma's on the Camino by Mary O'Hara Wyman and The Art of Pilgrimage by Phil Cousineau.)

Thanks to Michener, this image has become a part of my experience even though  we never saw it or the town it's in on our walk from Cebreiro to Santiago.

It represents a myth and a way of dressing for the Camino!

Apparently, seeing that the virgin Mary wasn't enough of an icon on the Camino, the little town of Pontevedra took action.  Michener writes that, "a new cult grew up around a legend claiming that the Virgin Mary had been the first pilgrim to the tomb of Santiago, who had given his life for her son. "

In 1978 a gingerbread sanctuary was built in the form of a combined cross and scallop shell, housing this statue.  (I can't find this; the picture of the statue only says that it's inside a baroque church in Pontevedra.)  This is what Michener writes:

"It was the Pilgrim Virgin, representing her as a primly dressed eighteenth-century taveling lady in stiff German brocade, a comfortable shawl  with tassels, long black Restoration curls, bejeweled staff and gourd, and a positively enchanting Jesus dressed like a child's doll.  Atop the Virgin's head stood a jaunty cockaded hat festooned with cockleshells."
'

The Botafumeiro and Sailors' Knots

I feel duty-bound to report on the Botafumeiro--almost the culmination of our walk of 110 miles from Cebreiro on the  Camino to Santiago de Compostela.  (I say almost because we had a wonderful meal afterwards at a Parador just around the corner, and then we met Camino friends!)

Here's the shot I took (not during mass).  The Botafumeiro looks a little bit like my samovar, but it's filled with incense and swings, which my samovar does not!   The swinging may fumigate us pilgrims.

There have been accidents.  In 1499 Catherine of Aragon was at a service when it swang/swung (?) out of the window.  But there were no mishaps for us, and I read just today that the ropes are secured with sailor knots--better than my shoe laces!

I don't want to sound too glib.  I'm really glad I took this walk.  I love Spain, and I love to walk.

But I didn't really want to hug St. James even though I once went to an Episcopal Church that bore his name and I wish him well--but maybe not for the deeds this "Matamoros" was "seen" doing during the crusades, when he was slaying Moors.

 I think I'm more inclined towards a pilgrimage a group of pilgrims have made retracing the route of the First Crusade,  asking for forgiveness from the Jews and Muslims and Eastern Christians.

http://www.religioustolerance.org/chr_cru1.htm

I will soon move on to my plate-to-plate pilgrimage.