Knitting Along the Way, Part III
The Spiritual Stuff
Nearly all the pilgrims we met on the Camino Primitivo promptly separated themselves from any spiritual motive attached to their walk, myself included. But I wonder, if like me, they secretly hoped for a bit of magic, transformation, transcendence.
I can’t help myself. For the most part, I’ve returned to the faith of my childhood, which is best represented by the It’s a Small World*, a ride at Disney World circa 1978. My twenties however, were spent under the council of a self proclaimed prophet, and my world got very small indeed.
Perhaps this is why Alejandro and his refugio defines the Camino for me. He expanded his contribution to his community by shrinking the physical world he inhabited. His doors were open to all people. He lived in an expansive world by creating the perfect small world.
Our new shop on Quincy St. is more of a cathedral than a chapel, but my hope for it is the same as the little shop on Washington St., a refugio for fiber artists. The shop is an honor to tend. Routine is finally taking shape, which makes it harder to leave. Preparing for the Camino, however, has already created positive patterns.
A month ago I committed to coming to the shop two hours before opening everyday. I organize, write, clean, open, and meet with Numahka. I serve customers, answer phone calls & emails, close, organize, and write some more. I knit, bathe, sleep, repeat. Repetition offers a sense of security without the price attached to any spirituality I’ve encountered. It was repetition I craved more than anything when we returned home from the Primitivo, although routine can have an extremist element as well.
The documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi exemplifies my point perfectly. Jiro is in his eighties, and has been doing the same thing everyday for decades. As a result food critics around the world find his sushi transcendent. It’s a fabulous movie. But Jiro’s wife and children certainly paid a price for his complete devotion to fish. As much as I loved the film, I had to ask, “where exactly can sushi transcend anyone?” I’ll boldly bet not as far as fiber craft. There isn’t a culture on the planet that doesn’t have a fiber tradition. It is truly the thread that ties us together and distinguishes all of our different cultures.
Jiro’s drive was free of all compromise and was sushi focused. The man I once believed to be a prophet, clouded his vision with the belief that he alone could interpret the word of God for himself and others. Alejandro’s vision held everyone. Like Jiro, I can become maniacally focused and forget people. I bridle my drive and vision with Alejandro’s voice and our embroidered motto.
Our mouse is alone on his hill to remind me here, starts within.
I woke up at 5:30 this morning, I had to finish cleaning my apartment. My living space is never as clean as when I’m about to leave for awhile. Then, I checked for the umteenth time that I had everything I could possibly need on a pilgrimage, and went to the shop to clean up Crafternoon. That’s what I do on Monday mornings, clean up after Sunday Crafternoon. I’ll miss it. I’ll miss all our Crafternooners, and Natalia, Aaron, Robert and Numahka. I’ll miss George the King Fisher who perches on the old ferry dock. But I will be a better Bazaar Girl when I return, and the store will grow in interesting ways, differently than how it does when I’m here. The journey back to the Camino begins now. My yarn is wound, we’ll see what happens.
I’m ready for a bit of magic.
Kerri
*It’s a Small World is the perfect religion. Growing up in Florida I rode It’s a Small World more times than I can count, if you haven’t had the pleasure, I highly recommend clicking on the link below. http://youtu.be/7jiaU0xbOKs
Knitting Along the Way, Part II
Recalling the faces of the old women we saw along the way, helps me keep Camino mind in a different way than Alejandro. I started wearing aprons when we came home. A garment my generation was told was oppressive, and “little old ladyish.” Old Spanish women wear theirs like superheroes.
Theirs is a strength and happiness I don’t see here.
I have a story as to why.
All the caminos are dotted with chapels. On the Primitivo many were “restored” in the 1600’s. There’s nothing in America that was restored in the 1600’s.
In the villages we often saw old women singing to their chickens as they sprinkled bread crumbs from their aprons. This needs no romanticizing. I imagine a band of these women sharing the duties of maintaining the tiny ancient chapels in the center of their villages. We could only peer through barred windows at highly polished pews, crisp linens trimmed with bobbin lace, fresh flowers, and gleaming candlesticks. I envied the women that tended these altars. Altars at which Mary always took center stage, never her crucified son.
In the cities old women walked with command, dressed with style, and sipped sweet vermouth garnished with oranges. There wasn’t a feeble bone in their bodies. In town and country they walked with shoulders back, capable of carrying the honor bestowed their gender.
I’m not Catholic. I’m a born again agnostic. I went too far with faith during my twenties. Too far?
Well, I suppose it’s when your brain allows you to accept an us and them worldview. Our species has wasted enough time playing that game. But I do romanticize tradition. And I do long for a faith that holds everyone.
I think I have everything gathered for my walk, by the end of the week for sure.
I almost forgot, The Aranami shawl for the knit along is available as a $7.00 Ravelry download.
And don’t forget Our Spincycle trunk show!! This Saturday, April 19th, from noon to six.
I’ll post again before we leave.
Kerri
Custom apron sewn by Linda Varela. More styles available at Summer House Design.
Knitting Along the Way
One of our favorite Crafter-nooners, Lissa, inspired us to choose the Aranami shawl as our first knit along.
Two and a half years ago my husband Steve and I walked The Camino Primativo. A 900 year old, 180 mile pilgrimage in North Western Spain. I brought knitting and a determination to escape food service.
On April 29th, we leave Seattle for Madrid, board a train to Seville, and begin the 300 mile walk to Salamanca. The first half of the Camino de la Plata. I’ll bring knitting again, and a bit of guilt and anxiety, which, I believe, is standard issue on pilgrimages.
A very large part of me doesn’t want to leave the shop. We’re planning a knit along to keep me from a total-separation-anxiety-meltdown. And besides, I learned everything I needed to know on my first pilgrimage. Everything. Steve felt he needed at least one more.
Alejandro center.
Alejandro taught me how to keep a Camino state of mind. He built and runs a refugio for pilgrims, on the Camino Primitivo. When we stayed with him, he did everyone’s laundry, fed us dinner, woke us with John Lennon’s imagine, fed us breakfast and sent us on our way. He does this over 300 days a year for up to 15 pilgrims a night, and accepts only donations. Before we left he let me interview him.
Alejandro had walked a combination of all the Camino de Santiago’s over 20 times.
Before building his hostel, he was a cab driver in Madrid. When I asked him why he quit his job, stopped walking, and built his refugio he said he wanted to find a way to keep the feeling he had on the camino, and help other pilgrims on their journey. In his previous life as a cab driver, he said, “Everyone was always hurried, sometimes angry and rarely happy. On the Camino you don’t constantly check your watch, everything is peaceful.”
He’s right. The unending decision making of daily life disappears. You wake up knowing everything you need to know. Get up, walk, have cafe con leche and toast with jam, walk more, have beer and ham sandwiches, put your pack back on and walk some more. Find a hostel, shower, wash clothes, hang clothes in sun, eat a three course pilgrims meal, sleep, repeat. Each day is the same and different. The tempo of your thoughts change. Routine leads to efficient flow. The shared destination creates a supportive community.
It was soon after our first Camino that the Bazaar Girls took over The Twisted Ewe. I saw our little yarn shop on Washington street as a refugio, a supportive community for fiber artists. But keeping a Camino pace isn’t as easy as it I thought. I call upon the face of Alejandro when I lose my way. Speak to me Alejandro, “Routine, efficiency, generosity, trust.” I feel him say. He’d probably politely add that I might benefit from walking again.
But before I get too philosophical, I should tell you more about the knit along. While Steve has spent the last month weighing gear, calibrating his fitbit , and studying maps, I have been deciding on a knitting project, and wondering if I can I pull off really short bangs. If I can’t I’ll have a month to grow ‘em out.
Scallop shell marker on the Primitivo.
The Aranami Shawl has many camino-ey attributes. Firstly the scallop shell shaped segments. All of the routes to Santiago are marked by scallop shells. Secondly it’s repetitious. By the end I’ll be picking up stitches with my eyes closed. Which admittedly is not my favorite thing to do, but I was inspired to knit the shawl when one of our Sunday crafter-nooners came in wearing an Aranami in beautiful jewel tones.
I will be using Colinton unbrushed mohair, arranged in colors to represent a European Bee Eater. We will be walking through a bird sanctuary and I am hoping to see these little beauties. The scallops of the shawl can be clouds, leaves, waves, feathers or whatever inspires you. It’s a great project to use up bits of fingering weight yarn, and we’ll give you 10% off any yarn purchased at the shop for your shawl. Card carrying bazaar girls will receive an additional 5% off of their regular 15% discount.
Aaron Strich has knit a shop sample, and will be available in the store to answer questions and help with problems Thursday evenings at Nip’n’Knit, and at Sunday Crafternoons. I will be keeping in touch via Facebook, and the blog, Knitting Along the Way, at bazaargirls.com .
What you carry on a three hundred mile walk says a lot about who you are. By next week my pack should be ready.
I’ll keep you posted.
Kerri
Colinton Australia’s unbrushed mohair .