Coimbra, Portugal: It Ends Where it Began

It’s been 24 hours, I’m pale white and it hasn’t stopped. Sofia has no choice but to take me to the hospital.

– The following events occurred the 2nd week of June 2013

The theme of this 4th and final post on Portugal is:

Forgiveness: A Love to Free Us

How Does She Look Like?

I’ve been asked why haven’t I shown Sofia’s picture in these blog posts. Due to the sensitive nature of what I’m sharing, especially what will be told in this post, she has asked me to not include any pictures that show her face. (I also apologize for the lack of pictures in this post. I was sick most of the time and didn’t take many.)

Goodbye… But Wait, There’s More

Sofia drives me from Lisboa to Coimbra, where I would catch the train to Salamanca. I go to the train station and It’s too late; I have to wait until the next day. She goes back to the car and asks me to find a hotel while she sleeps in the car. She is exhausted. I ask God why is he keeping me with her longer and longer. What is he calling me to do?

A Broken Love

That evening we went to see a live Fado performance. She is angry because of the hour or two I spent writing in the hotel instead of paying attention to her. I remind her that I am not her possession for her to be reclaiming my attention. Her love for me has been twisted into having a need of me and my attention. She realizes that her behavior is not love and starts to weep as she faces that reality. She is so emotionally overwhelmed it becomes nearly impossible to talk with her as we walk the streets of the old town of Coimbra. Maybe she was feeling helpless or embarrassed. We finally sit down in a square, just the two of us. “Sofia, I’m here for you now, I just can’t be your everything. You are expecting me to be what only God can be and my heart is not big enough for that.” I said. “I just don’t get this whole deal about welcoming God into my life. It’s all so abstract. I don’t even know how to start?” She replied. “Ok. Let me ask you a question. When did you begin having these attachments to other men in your life?” She thinks for a few minutes. She starts sharing more about her father’s death when she was a child, and how she started rejecting her mother’s affection afterwards. She also shared about a traumatic event where she was abused by her boyfriend when she was an adolescent. The wounds run deep in her and I am overwhelmed by what I can do, it’s too much for me. I ask the holy spirit for guidance in this very delicate situation. Sofia felt God’s healing love for the first time in her life during the conversion experience she had in the Camino. But now, I started to sense that was just a crack on the surface. God wants to go deeper and he calls me to assist in this process.

Facing the Hurts From the Past

In life we are hurt by people: our co-workers, our friends, our family, our mother and father. It hurts the most when it was undeserved, when there was no justice. That is when it becomes the most difficult to forgive and we sometimes fool ourselves in believing that by not forgiving the other we are doing what is just, what will hurt the other and bring order. Yet, when a person does this it becomes like poison slowly dripping inside one’s veins. By not forgiving we are judging, and by judging we are taking away from God what doesn’t belong to us. I suggest to Sofia that the reason she may be struggling so much with attachment, love and faith is because of this. Yes, making a profession of faith and a commitment to Jesus was an important step for her, but the journey must not end there. In fact, if it’s left there we risk that the person has a superficial faith, one that can be hypocritical in the eyes of others, a “Jesus saved me and He can save you” faith that lacks substance. I explain to her the exercise on forgiveness.

As I explain this exercise we are on the edge of a quaint square. As it gently rains the cobblestone floor seems to shine as do her teary eyes. Live jazz is heard from above us, it is a music with soul, with agony, with ups and downs. It is the soundtrack to this moment we are sharing. It is not easy and it requires strength from God to truly forgive and let go. Many people, instead of forgiving, they try to overcome. To put themselves above the person or the event that happened, to claim power that they are beyond it all. In our individualistic, success driven culture I’ve known many proudly say something like: “I’m strong and what you did has no power over me”. This is nothing more than confronting violence with more aggression. Jesus calls us to respond differently. When Peter asked how many times he should forgive someone who hurts him, Jesus shared the following parable.

Parable of the Unmerciful Servant

For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him 100,000 dollars was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him 10 dollars; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.

Forgiveness is unlocking the door to set someone free

and…

Realizing you were the prisoner

Forgiving is the call to be the image and likeness of God. God forgives us freely even though we don’t deserve it, and we are called to do the same. One cannot truly forgive until we realize that God loves you the same as he loves a person who dedicates their whole life to God, and that He also loves you the same as the person who is a rapist. Not any more or any less. When we forgive we don’t make an objectively wrong thing ok, or justify the other person’s actions, but we do free ourselves to receive God’s own forgiveness, and the healing that we need. We let go of the need for justice. We let go of anger and choose to love even when it is not deserved. Much like I wrote about love in the previous post, forgiveness begins with a choice, an act of the will that you make even if you don’t feel it. When we make that choice then we can then put it in the hands of God and let Him do the work.

C.S. Lewis captured it best when he wrote: “To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you”

Not Ready to Forgive

It is past midnight as I finish explaining the exercise of forgiveness when a group of young tourists pass us by, drunk and screaming. It interrupts the moment. The time is not right for her to go through this exercise. With my arm around her we go upstairs to the Jazz concert. It is a soothing mixture of voice, piano, bass, trumpet, and percussion. After 1 hour into the concert I abruptly ask that we leave. I don’t feel well. Back in the hotel my body was so tired yet I grew sicker and sicker, and couldn’t fall asleep. About an hour later I get up, tap her on the shoulder to wake her up and go to the toilet to throw up. I didn’t feel any better afterwards and could barely sleep. The next morning I throw up again. I was so weak I couldn’t muster up the energy to get up from bed.

Back to the Beginning

Sofia tells me I can’t go to Salamanca like this, that it’s best for me to go back home with her in Oporto, the place where this love story began. We arrive at her apartment in the middle of the afternoon and as I get out of the car I throw up a big one on the street. Welcome home!

The Time is Right

After being taken to the hospital, the next day I would be in bed most of the day recovering. It is almost time for Sunday Mass and she comes into the room sobbing. “I know what I have to forgive now.” she tells me. It is an event that was almost repressed, the deepest pain in her life. Not only what she must forgive, but what she must ask forgiveness for. It involves the death of a person, many years ago in her life, a death that was not natural or accidental. The time is right, she must now go through the exercise of forgiveness. She sees how weak I am trying to get up to go to mass and strongly suggests that I stay. She goes to mass alone and leaves me home.

During mass she went through this exercise and was filled with peace and openness. For the first time in a long time she felt a desire to pay attention to the mass, and to be there for what she has to receive. A few days later she would let me know that since that day her sleep has been different. She feels light, comforted, loved, as if a weight was lifted from her so that she can now truly relax and rest.

Whose Bible is it?

It is my last day in Portugal. All the days since Lisboa have been grey, cold and rainy. She wants to go to the park before taking me to the train station. I ask her for the bible. She says she doesn’t have one. I go and ask her mother and she gives me one. On the way to the park I feel drawn to share a chapter that is about love: 1st Corinthians 13. She reads it out loud. Then she goes to the first page of the bible and notices someone wrote something when it was given as a gift. It was her bible, and not her mother’s. It was given to her by her boyfriend 20 years ago. She never read it of course, she didn’t even know this was her bible. On the page after the cover there was a photocopy of a bible chapter taped there by the person who gave it to her. It contained exactly the same verses she had just read out loud with me from 1st Corinthians, not one word less or more. I had no idea about that and was a little spooked by the coincidence of it all. It took 20 years for her to read a truth about love, a truth that was there for her all along.

Separate Ways

After coming back from the park it is time to say goodbye. We both know that the reasons we were brought together, and almost extraordinarily kept together have been accomplished. This chapter in my journey must come to a close. She asks for one last dance. She plays the slow salsa song by Marc Anthony called “Volando entre tus brazos” (“Flying between your arms”). It was a song not to show off dance moves but to savor the beauty of this person, of this experience, of this relationship. It is a moment of simply “Saudade”. In less than 10 days we delved into the depths of our souls, experiencing both intense love and desolation. We had moments of excitement, passion, adrenaline, confusion, darkness, and resentment. In Oporto we shared a pleasant romance, in Fatima I embraced pain and suffering for her sake, in Lisboa our love matured enlightened by truth, in Coimbra we went to the darkest room in her heart and freed it through forgiveness. We are now back in Oporto, where it all started, and its time to go our separate ways. On the train station she takes my to-do list and below “Contact health insurance” writes an addition to it: “Love Sofia Forever”. I smile, but refuse to look her in the eyes. The day after leaving Portugal, Sofia writes me a parting message:

I hope you are well My Sweet Child, My Guardian Brother, and My Dancing Man…

The End

The Next Chapter

I took the train to go back to the Camino, to the place where my Camino was radically transformed. It takes me two days to get there. This time I would be there not as a pilgrim, but as a hospitalero in an albergue. To be the one who welcomes and serves the pilgrims (and also cooks and cleans the toilets) 🙂 I will be spending 20 days there with Jose Luis, a man who would become a life mentor. Over 500 pilgrims would be staying in the house during my time there. We would experience days of sweet peace, and of sudden violence. In that albergue, many pilgrim’s eyes would be opened and a new Camino would be born for them.

Lisboa, Portugal: Raindrops, Emotions, Saudade

Saudade was once described as “the love that remains”. It is a Portuguese word that has no direct translation in English. It describes a deep emotional state of nostalgic or melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing will never return. It brings sad and happy feelings together, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling. In fact, one can have saudade of someone whom one is presently with, but have some feeling of loss towards the past or the future.

– The following events occurred the 2nd week of June 2013

The theme of this third post, of a 4-part series on Portugal, is:

Saudade: A Love to Part… and Stay With

Meeting Sofia Once More

I arrive in Lisboa in the afternoon where Sofia was waiting to pick me up. We talk for an hour in a café and then she takes me to the youth hostel where Alejandra is staying. As we get ready to say goodbye we look at each other for a few minutes without the need for words. She contemplates whether to stay one more day or go. I think to myself that it might be better if she goes home, things are already complicated and it’s probably best to move on so the attachment stops growing stronger. Yet, I choose not to speak, and wait for God to act. She decides she will also stay in Lisboa. Maybe it’s for a reason.

The Youth Hostel

Oh my God! What am I doing here! This is the first time I’ve been in a youth hostel since I started my journey back in April. It’s not the first time in my life though. In 2005 I was a 21-year-old foreign exchange student in Sweden and had the opportunity to backpack through Europe. Back then I stayed primarily in youth hostels, and I would always look forward to them. I would meet many young international travelers, and go out to party all night. Now I’m 29 years old and feel completely out of place (especially being used to the pilgrim crowd from the Camino). Seeing the hungover people from the previous day sleeping in the sofa, hearing the annoying superficial conversations, getting invited to pub crawls, it was too much. I apologize if I’m being too critical, but it was my honest reaction at the time. Ok, back to the story!

Rain Drops in Lisboa

The next day I visit the city with Sofia and Alejandra. The day seems to play out with no sense or emotion. I intentionally try to keep my distance from Sofia. When she needed to go and pay the parking for the car I chose to stay with Alejandra. I did that in part because I don’t want her to rely on my presence. That day it rained hard, like heavy stones, the hardest since I’ve started my journey. It is one of those days where I felt like all I was doing was watching time pass by and breathing the air. No meaning, purpose, or joy.

Just the Two of Us

In the afternoon Alejandra goes back to the hostel to rest her leg which has tendonitis from the Camino. I go with Sofia to catch a view high up in the city. When we get there it was cold, both the weather and my emotions. She steals me a kiss when I wasn’t paying attention and I pulled back. Since we are at the very top of a hill the wind blew strongly and pushed me back to her. I stopped resisting and embraced her with a tender passion. After the moment passed she tells me: “You were afraid that we would grow attached if we went further, but I’m afraid that we already are… both of us”. The word she used in portuguese was “Ligados” which has a stronger and more intimate meaning than “attached”. It is more like a connection or fusion between our very beings, between the essence of who we are. I couldn’t deny what was happening. We decide to start going down but I see a church nearby and go there out of impulse. I go to the front and she stayed in the back. This time I’m there to talk directly with God because I’m confused. I earnestly prayed for a good 20 minutes and I heard nothing or felt any calmer. The confusion and the sense that the day was messed up remained. I contemplate staying here and loving this woman who has chosen to love me. I pray for clarity and to choose the divine will in this situation, even if it hurts, even if it’s not what I would like. I still receive no clear direction on what to do. I give up on praying and decide I’m going to get up and deal with the situation. Before getting up I turn my head to the left and see an image of Jesus crucified. I can’t help but keep looking as I realize that is who I’m called to be, that is how I’m called to love. God has responded. As I leave I know what to say.

Letting Go…

We stop by a small café that has a cozy feeling with posters of old movies, and some board games to play with. We order a hot drink to counter the cold, gloomy weather. After talking for a few minutes I begin to tell her: “I agree with you. I’ve fallen in love with you. I have a desire to caress you and be at your side. But the time is not right, and I’m not ready. I sense a calling in this journey around the world and now it tells me that I must continue. There is something for me to see, to learn, to live. And I must continue without the attachment to this love we now share. Even if we are to be together again, we must let go of each other now. Not letting go while we are physically separated would only cause pain.” She also shares that there is a Camino she must also walk, something to learn and to experience. We agree to love each other the remaining amount of time we have together, and to love each other in light of truth, for who we are and not for our bodies. For me to be physically united in this situation would be in vain, since it would be for a love I am not making a commitment to. If I truly believe that one day I am to give myself fully to another woman, then to give of myself physically now would be to betray that gift and that hope. It is a small sacrifice we offer up for each other, for the sake of Love itself. We both recognize it won’t be easy.

Let’s Talk About Sex

Our current culture almost completely disregards the ability to control one’s desires and passions for love of another. Many people freely and easily give in to those desires, which leads to sex. But it requires much more love for a man to choose to reserve the gift of sex until a lifetime commitment has been made, than to freely give in to what feels good and right at the moment. Love and sacrifice are inseparable. Love without sacrifice has no foundation and won’t have the strength to last beyond the first few mistakes or bad experiences.

Sex can be a way to use another person’s body for pleasure or it can be a true gift of self to another. Most people would agree with me that once they find their future husband or wife that they would not want to have sex with other people while being married. Do you agree? That is because instinctively most people recognize that sex is the complete gift of one’s body to another, and in that sense it becomes sacred and cannot be rightly shared with someone else while already committed to one person. If a person agrees with what has been written above, then having sex with one’s boyfriend in the present is telling their future husband that the gift of their body wasn’t worth saving for him. And thinking that the current boyfriend will become the husband is not a good reason, because no matter how you rationalize it, no matter how perfect the person might be for you at the time, that person is not your husband. More beautiful and honorable would be for that current boyfriend or girlfriend to explain that because of love for you they choose to save this gift because it is the highest good that can be chosen. Then one can focus on truly loving the other starting with the fundamentals of love, which is found in properly answering the question of what does it mean to love another.

One of the most common mistaken ideas I’ve found about love, including among some of the hundreds of people I’ve met in my travels, is that it is synonymous with liking someone very much. I won’t go long about this, but as a starting point I will share what C.S. Lewis responded in an interview:

But Love, in the Christian sense, does not mean an emotion. It is a state not of the feelings but of the will; that state of the will which we have naturally about ourselves, and must learn to have about other people.

Love for ourselves does not mean that we like ourselves. It means that we wish our own good. In the same way Christian Love (or Charity) for our neighbors is quite a different thing from liking or affection. We ‘like’ or are ‘fond of’ some people, and not of others.

Consequently, though Christian love sounds a very cold thing to people whose heads are full of sentimentality, and though it is quite distinct from affection, yet it leads to affection. Including for people we could not even have imagined liking at the beginning (like those who mistreat us).

Fado and Saudade

As me and Sofia leave the café and keep going down she stops and takes me to a view of the sea and Lisboa one last time. It is beautiful and we ask someone to take a picture of us.

As we start leaving she asks that we stay for two more minutes. Then, two musicians arrive and start playing Fado, a portuguese genre of music that is strongly associated with “Saudade”. They play a melody that evokes a soft and mellow end. The rain stopped and with the music playing in the background a rainbow appears out in the sea. I put my arm around her shoulder as she starts to softly weep. I hold on to my tears and tell her that this is all a gift from God. The rainbow starts fading from the bottom as it slowly starts going up into the sky. It fades into a cloud. As we look towards the sea our souls are filled with Saudade, a deep longing for a love that is somewhere other than the present, for a love that is missing but somehow there. Saudade… the love that remains…

The Last Evening Together

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening we felt different, the conflict has dissipated. We both experience peace and completeness. It is the last night and we go out for one last dance. We go to a latin club where some playful tension develops as I also dance with other women (BTW, it is perfectly normal for salsa dancers to dance with multiple partners even if they are with someone else). We take a taxi to the hostel. By the entrance we contemplate the sweetness of this whole experience in Portugal. We ask forgiveness for the times we acted without charity for one another. Then, taking this as our last day together we held each other, and this time it was different, very different. The sensation was that of truly being “ligados” as one would say in portuguese. A week later she would describe the embrace as unforgettable and unlike anything she ever felt before. It was like dipping into a deep sea that pleased all the senses.

The Last Ride

The next day we were on our way to Coimbra where I was to say goodbye and take the train to Salamanca, Spain. A series of obstacles and unfortunate events would present themselves that would force open a door to the final chapter with Sofia in Portugal. It would be the hardest one so far, where I would be taken to the hospital and where she would deal with the most painful event of her past.

A wedding in the monastery

The largest bakery I’ve been, with enough rooms to make you feel you entered a maze

More Camino arrows. They are everywhere now.

With Alejandra in Lisboa

With Alejandra

Fatima, Portugal: Love is a Bed of Roses (Thorns Included)

I looked to my left and see her sobbing incessantly. “What’s wrong Fatima?” I ask. “It has been 20 years since my last confession.” she replied. “What compelled you to do it now?” I asked. “You took me there. Thank you.” I looked at her surprised. All I did was tell her that I wanted to go to confession before the mass. I didn’t talk to her about it any more than that or tried to persuade her to do it. My silent witness of just waiting for my turn was enough for her.

– The following events occurred the 1st week of June 2013

The theme of this second post, of a 4-part series on Portugal, is:

Sacrifice: A Love to Bleed For

The Miracle of Fatima

On the 13th of May of 1917, three children ages 10, 9, and 7 were tending their sheep when they saw lighting. Afraid, they ran down the hill were another flash of lighting came down in front of them. There they saw a bright light and a woman with a white rosary appeared. For the following 5 months she would appear to them on the 13th of the month. Each time, more and more people would go with them. The exception was in August because the children were detained by the local authorities for spreading such hallucinations to the townspeople. During those apparitions one of the messages revealed was the call to pray and intercede for those who offend God; that many people are not being saved because they have no one to intercede for them. Another revelation was a prophecy that Russia, if not converted, would start to spread its errors around the world. This was several decades before the Cold War. It was also revealed that two of the children would go to heaven very soon and that only Lucia would remain to carry on her message and spread devotion to Mary’s immaculate heart. The other two died at ages 10 and 11.

On the 13th of October, with close to 70,000 witnesses the woman reveals herself as “The lady of the rosary” and asked that a chapel be built in her honor. Then, all who were there witnessed the great miracle of the sun. The sun turned like a silver disk which could be looked at without difficulty for the eyes. Then it started to spin around itself as it appeared to get larger and closer to the earth.

In Fatima with Fatima

I arrive with Fatima in the evening. It was empty as almost everything was closed, but after an hour or two we found the pilgrim albergue. Because I had been a pilgrim in the Camino I could stay there one night for free.

Pilgrims on their Knees

The next day we go to the shrine and the first thing I see are people doing a different kind of pilgrimage. They are on their knees traversing a very long path to the place where the apparitions of Mary occurred. It can take around an hour for them to finish their pilgrimage. Their faces are in extreme pain. This is an aspect of the faith that I am uncomfortable with, it gives the impression that it is a church for the masochist. If one accepts God’s forgiveness and is welcomed into new life then why is there need to do this kind of penance, to go through this seemingly unnecessary suffering?

The Way of Peace

We spent the day visiting the shrine, the chapels, the museum. In the afternoon we went to what is called “The Way of Peace”. It is 2km outside of the shrine. It is a path going to where the little pastors lived and where they had the apparitions of the angel (before those of Mary). The way and its surroundings are untouched by modern life so you connect more with nature.

It is where I started reflecting on what I had left behind, both with The Camino and with Sofia. There I felt I was receiving the spiritual message of Fatima. Less than 10 minutes into the Way of Peace someone taps me on the back. It is Sofia! I thought it was a ghost. What are the odds of this happening? She was heading to a city on the south to solve a serious personal problem she had. Before leaving her home, her mother asked if she could please stop by Fatima to light a candle for her. Leaving Fatima on her car she spotted my beard as I was entering The Way of Peace.

During our walk on “The Way of Peace”, Sofia also started having her own spiritual experience first being moved by a reading written on a stone. Later, next to a small chapel on the Way, she starts sharing with me the problem she has and the pain it is causing in her life. She starts crying as she shares this when all of a sudden a local security guard approached us and starts playing cupid. He was talking about fate, love, and having babies. My face starts getting red as he goes on. He ends the conversation by stating that we should visit him again when the baby comes. Oh God!

Taking Things to God

We went back to the sanctuary and I take Sofia to the small open air chapel. I said there is very little I can do about her situation and suggested that she brings it to God. I told her that she was in a special place where the best thing to do would be to pray a rosary with the people in the chapel. I shared how I started praying it halfway through the Camino and the experiences I had with it. Yet, even though she had a conversion experience with me in The Camino, she still hasn’t embraced Christianity as a Way and has many doubts. I told her that she doesn’t need to agree or believe everything in order to pray, all she needs to do is go with a humble heart and authentically say, “I’m not sure about this faith and about these prayers, but I need help, and with what little faith I have I ask for your intercession.” I tell her that I will be waiting for her after she is finished. It’s best for her to not be with me while she prays.

I leave and get a candle which I light for her and her intentions. I find a place to sit in the sun so I can start writing about what I’ve experienced in Fatima thinking that the climax had already happened. Before I open the laptop I notice a woman doing the pilgrimage on her knees on her way to the chapel. I think to myself rather casually: “I wonder if she will arrive at the chapel by the time the rosary is done? It will be interesting to see as I write. Maybe I will learn something”. Then, out of nowhere, it hits me! All of a sudden my heart sinks as it tells me to get on my knees and do it. It tells me that I am to offer up sacrifice for Sofia, so that God listens to her through my intercession and so that she listens to God’s voice and what He wants for her. My heart rate accelerates as I look to the entrance of the basilica where it reads in large bold letters “Do Not Fear”. But I am afraid, I don’t want to do this. I don’t even like the principle of this type of self-mortification. The call grows stronger and the adrenaline is almost nauseating. Not knowing what to do I pack up my laptop and run to the starting point. I read the prayer for pilgrims that are about to begin. I barely understanding any of the words due to all the fear, confusion and adrenaline. I look to the floor, take a deep breath and get on my knees. At that moment I’m reminded of the love I felt from a stranger that once suffered for me. It was what brought me to know God’s love and led to an encounter with his Son Jesus.

As I begin to move forward I find it’s hard to lift my knees off the ground and in order to keep going I almost have to slide my knees and shins on the ground one after the other. The pain on my knees from the pressure is hard, but what was worse is the ever-increasing burning sensation as the skin is slowly being scraped off. I’m desperate and start to pray the rosary for her intentions and begging God to listen and respond. I fall forward on my hands multiple times as the pain becomes unbearable. It is at a snail’s pace, and the end doesn’t seem to get any closer.

For the Sake of Another

I start feeling like an idiot and begin to look down as I can’t bear the thought of others looking at me. After about 15 minutes I look up to the basilica and feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Earlier, the priest said during the mass: “Peace is the sensation that we are with God.” I feel a closeness to God, for in a way, I can sense what it means to continue suffering when you don’t need to, when you don’t have to, when you are doing it for the sake of another. At the moment it all felt like a deep truth revealed that can’t be expressed in words. I felt moved to the core of what it means to be alive in this world and in relationship with others. It becomes a sweet pain. I was moved to continue by will, by choice and not by a feeling. I begin sweating profusely and the pain brings me to tears.

The rosary in the chapel is finished and Sofia is walking up towards me. I’m not even halfway done. I feel shame and look down as she approaches. At first she is frozen as she doesn’t understand what is going on. She starts to get more concerned as she sees me weep and fall on my hands. “Stop, I will continue it for you!” Sofia says as it becomes unbearable for her to continue seeing me like that. I momentarily stop, sadly look up to her and say: “I cannot allow you to do it for me… Because I am already doing it for you”. I watch her stumble forward as she loses her composure and starts crying loudly. It takes her a few minutes to get back and then she starts walking (on her feet) beside me with great agony in her face. It is very sad to have someone walking beside you because you realize how slow you are going. I reach the chapel and fall once more forward. “Enough! Please stop!” she begs as she sits in front of me. I take a few minutes since I can barely think straight and finally I sit down. I am drenched in sweat, with tears down my face, and blood on my knees and shins.

What am I doing? Have I gone nuts?

What I did makes absolutely no sense if there is no God because there is no one to listen and it is all in vain. It also makes little sense unless it is seen in light of Jesus. In Jesus, God became man and the climax of his mission on earth was his passion and suffering on the way to Calvary to eventually die on a cross for our sake. Our suffering for others is not suffering, it is a revelation of God’s glory as Jesus himself revealed. If that revelation is true, then the connection between love and suffering is clear. More specifically, the truth that when you love you give of yourself; when you give of yourself you sacrifice something; and that sacrifice will come with pain. Then our capacity to continue to love will be directly related to how we endure this pain. Enduring the pain is not something I can do out of my fragile human will. For that I call out to God. If you only Love when it doesn’t hurt, then you are just following feelings and going through the motions.

Can We Truly Witness to Love Without Suffering?

This is one of the reasons Christians can sometimes be very poor witnesses, myself included. We are called to suffer with and for the church; for the sake of love and unity. Instead many look for a church or a community as if they were looking for the best cruise to go on vacation. It can become an individualistic search to satisfying one’s needs that leads to more and more separation. They might as well join a club of like-minded people who share interests.

Desolation Follows Consolation

We then went back to the convent I was staying to eat. What ensued was an unfortunate conversation with miscommunication by both of us. It caused her to leave in the evening without even saying goodbye, even though we knew it would be our last chance. It was abrupt and bitter. I had trouble sleeping and the next day was emotionally and spiritually dark. I felt such great desolation, anger, and resentment that I just stayed in bed. I wanted to rot inside there. I felt like everything that happened the previous day was in vain and senseless. I reacted violently through the messages I sent Sofia that day. Then around lunch time a fragile old nun came into the room and started tending to my wounds. She was funny, and perhaps not very sane. She kept putting more and more band aids to make sure they would hold. I ended up with close to a dozen on my left leg and only 4 on my right, even though my open wounds on the right leg were larger. Then, I fell asleep…

Restoration

I woke up and went to the sanctuary were I followed a guided meditation which ended where the apparitions happened, with the thunder that drew the children to come down from the hill to where Mary was waiting. There I saw others doing the pilgrimage on their knees, something I now see with very different eyes than I did when I arrived in Fatima. One particular woman was doing it with bare skin against the floor. My heart broke and I was filled with consolation. The darkness dissipated and I saw clearly again. I went back and contacted Sofia to ask forgiveness for my reaction. She wrote back: “My mistake yesterday was to insist on your response towards me. I wanted you to embrace me and tell me that you loved me and wanted me by your side. I was afraid I wouldn’t be corresponded. I’m so sorry. I just want you to be happy. All of what happened in Fatima makes me feel a great love for God and for you. I want to go back now to run to your arms, dance one more time and see you smile. But sadly… I cannot go. I love you Juan, without a shadow of a doubt, I love you.”

Saudade… The Love That Remains

Later that evening I receive a message from Alejandra. She was a pilgrim from Colombia who walked with me on the Camino. She was coming to Fatima the next morning. I would meet with Alejandra the next day with the plan of going together to Lisbon afterwards. That morning as I am waiting for Alejandra, Sofia calls me. She received the strength to do what was needed regarding her personal problem and is in great pain since it was a difficult task. She is in Lisbon and wanted to see me before driving up to Oporto. We both know we need to repair what happened and say a proper goodbye. When Alejandra arrived in Fatima I take her to the sanctuary. Then I tell her that I couldn’t stay with her for her visit, that I need to go to Lisbon now and that I would see her tomorrow instead.

Fatima and Sofia

The crown of Fatima holding the bullet that wounded Pope John Paul II

Really Big Ants

Oporto, Portugal: Salsa, Rest and Romance

The Camino is over! After walking 40 days to Santiago de Compostela my body feels like it has been awkwardly pulled and strained in all directions, I am worn out and tired. I’ve been offered a place, not far from Santiago, to rest and to start understanding the life lessons from the Camino. Sofia, whom I met in the last days of the pilgrimage, with whom I shared some intense and transformational experiences, has welcomed me to her home in Oporto, Portugal. In the Camino I had 3 intense love experiences: the mother, the lover, the sister. In the days in Portugal I will experience a fusion of all 3, a love story with an intensity I had not known. It will put to question the meaning of love itself.

– The following events occurred on the first week of June 2013

I will write four blog posts to cover this experience in Portugal, each with its own theme. The theme of this first post is:

New: A Love to Fall In

Vigo: A Spanish City by the Coast

On the way to visit Sofia I stop by Vigo, Spain. There I had the pleasure to see the coast after such a long time walking inland. I meet with Maria, to whom I sent some of the extra weight I didn’t need for the Camino. She is a friend from my time in Urbino, Italy. Back in 2007 I went to Urbino for a month to learn the italian language. What I found most interesting about learning a foreign language was that my learning increased exponentially when I started dating an italian woman in Italy. In that situation you are forced to speak more than just “Hello my name is Juan. I’m from Puerto Rico. The weather is good today.” Instead we would talk about specific interests, politics, etc… Now I’m heading for Portugal where a similar situation would arise.

With Maria in Vigo

It was a sweet blessing to meet with Maria. We shared the afternoon and evening around the city. She is an inspiration for me as a Christian. She lives in a place where she knows no community of people her age to spiritually grow together and to support each other. Instead all she gets is people, who are way past the retirement age, that attend church on Sundays and she can’t relate to. I don’t know how I could’ve kept my faith if I were in such a situation.

Oporto

Oporto is the second largest city in Portugal after Lisbon, and home to one of Portugal’s most internationally famous exports, Port Wine. It is a fortified wine with an alcohol percentage of about 20%.

Salsa

I arrive late in the evening, tired and wanting to sleep. Sofia picks me up in her car, but she is not tired and wants to take me out for dinner and dancing. I grudgingly accept. We ate fish while listening to some live Portuguese music. Then we went out to a nightclub for latin dancing and Kizomba. It has been a long time since I’ve done this. I went with the only clothes I had: pilgrim clothes. And also sporting this huge beard, and messy hair. I felt so out-of-place. Nonetheless, I danced the night away and was glad to be dancing with people who do this regularly. Tanya Fiske, my friend and salsa instructor from the Washington DC area, recommended this place and it was well worth it. After a few hours I asked that we leave since my feet couldn’t take it, they still hadn’t recovered from the Camino, and I felt like I was going to get blisters. I didn’t get a single one in the Camino and I didn’t want to get one dancing.

Rest

The days spent in Oporto rejuvenated me. In the last 40 days I’ve been packing up everything I own every morning and sleeping in a different place every night. Having one place to stay for several days was a gift and a blessing. I did feel strange walking around without my heavy backpack on my back, it felt like a part of my body was missing. Sofia and her mother prepared meals for me, they washed my clothes, my shoes, they were so caring of me in those days. I was overjoyed to be constantly exposed to Portuguese that I delighted in reading the advertisement signs on the streets and watching TV. With Sofia I went to the town fair, ate typical food, rode the ferris wheel, attended a concert, went to the mall, played games. We simply shared life.

Romance

With the experiences we shared in the Camino, we shared a love that was pure, gentle and with no romantic interests. The days in Oporto started to move this love in a different direction. She would sometimes refer to me as her little boy, something she said to hide how she was really starting to feel towards me. We had already begun to flirt, and the way we looked at each others eyes during the ferris wheel ride was captivating and mesmerizing. The last evening in Oporto, after eating some traditional giant sardines, we had a talk as we strolled down the beach on the way home. She wanted to know if I felt the attraction and desire she did. I told her that adding passion to our relationship now that I am leaving tomorrow would risk tarnishing the simple beauty of the love we shared. It would only add more suffering after our separation. She agreed that what we shared was worth preserving. She was disappointed nonetheless as it was not what she wanted to hear. But I was leaving, and it wouldn’t be right, I had my journey ahead of me and I was in no position to commit to anything or form bonds in vain.

When we arrived home we went to sleep. About half an hour later I get up and go to her. I wake her up with a sweet and soft kiss. I’ve given in to passion.

The Path to Penance and Reconciliation

I depart and bid Sofia farewell believing I won’t be seeing her again. I meet with my friend Fatima from the Canary Islands with whom I planned to visit the shrine to Our Lady of Fatima. It is one of the most well known Marian shrines in the world.

Fatima in front of the signs showing both ways

In Fatima, less than 100 years ago, thousands of people (skeptics and reporters included) witnessed the miracle of the sun. There I will be meeting three women from my past. One of us will be shedding blood for another.

With Fatima finding Camino arrows in Oporto