Letter from Spain:
Caga and the Camino de Santiago
Caga and the Camino de Santiago
by Guest Author: Jane V. Blanchard
November 2013
November 2013
The Camino de Santiago, also known as “The Way of St. James,” is a pilgrimage across northern Spain and one of the world's most famous walking trails. Because legend has it that the remains of St. James, one of the twelve apostles, lie entombed in the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela, the “Way” has drawn European Christians since as early as A.D. 800. Hikers on the Camino, even today, are called “pilgrims.” And nowadays people come from all over the world, trekking not only for religious reasons, but for health, culture, and exercise. The Council of Europe, in 1987, blessed the Camino’s network of ancient pilgrimage routes with the distinction of being first on the European Cultural Itinerary. Every year its popularity increases. In 2011, 244,000 people registered for the Compostela, a Certificate of Completion for the final 100 miles. I was one of them. My Camino, my first-ever long-distance hike, started in the month of September on a section in France, with my heading west over the Pyrenees, and finished five hundred miles and forty-three days later in Santiago de Compostela, near Spain’s Atlantic coast.
Wayfaring on the Camino is different from hiking wilderness. I carried only a light pack (about 20 lbs.) and, in walking from village to village, stopped for drink, food, and bathroom breaks in cafés and eateries, and at night bedded down in albergues (hostels).
Wayfaring on the Camino is different from hiking wilderness. I carried only a light pack (about 20 lbs.) and, in walking from village to village, stopped for drink, food, and bathroom breaks in cafés and eateries, and at night bedded down in albergues (hostels).
Photo by Jane V. Blanchard
Between towns, the route meanders hill-and-dale through picturesque farmland. The rolling terrain in the east produces vineyards and olive orchards, while the west is dotted with diary farms. The middle—a flat, arid, and largely treeless plateau known as the Meseta—boasts irrigated fields of cereal crops and sunflowers. Rimmed by mountains, the Meseta reminded me of a large bowl. Except for the few major cities, the area is sparsely populated. Yet, on the Way, you are never alone.
For many walkers, the distance between towns—and, therefore, toilets—does not coincide with bodily urges. So, how does one handle nature’s calls in a barren land, with people constantly in sight? If lucky, you duck behind a stone wall or high weeds. When a screen is convenient, however, others have already squatted there, as evidenced by the piles, toilet paper residue, and buzzing of flies. You must pick your place with the instincts of a hound looking for the perfect spot, while taking care not to step in someone else’s deposit. When no cover is available, the procedure adopted among trekkers is to leave your backpack on the side of the trail, take your TP, saunter off a way, and do what comes naturally. Don't be shy. “Everyone knows that everyone goes” and fellow pilgrims will not seek you out. If they are anything like me, they’ll pick up the pace to give you privacy. Lastly, plan to poop as fast as possible—the manic flies love to attack warm poo even as it leaves your body. And fluttering wings tickle!
For many walkers, the distance between towns—and, therefore, toilets—does not coincide with bodily urges. So, how does one handle nature’s calls in a barren land, with people constantly in sight? If lucky, you duck behind a stone wall or high weeds. When a screen is convenient, however, others have already squatted there, as evidenced by the piles, toilet paper residue, and buzzing of flies. You must pick your place with the instincts of a hound looking for the perfect spot, while taking care not to step in someone else’s deposit. When no cover is available, the procedure adopted among trekkers is to leave your backpack on the side of the trail, take your TP, saunter off a way, and do what comes naturally. Don't be shy. “Everyone knows that everyone goes” and fellow pilgrims will not seek you out. If they are anything like me, they’ll pick up the pace to give you privacy. Lastly, plan to poop as fast as possible—the manic flies love to attack warm poo even as it leaves your body. And fluttering wings tickle!
When the ground is too hard for digging, as it is for most of the hard-packed Meseta, people will cover their success stories with a pile of rocks—you see a lot of cairns along the Camino. Don’t leave your soiled toilet paper out in the landscape. Take it with you, along with the wet wipes that do not disintegrate, and trash them appropriately in the next waste bin. It’s a good idea to carry your own supply of toilet paper, even for use in the towns. The many mom and pop shops and some of the donativos (low-cost hostels) can only afford to put out one roll per day, and by midafternoon, you can be shit-out-of-luck when it comes to finding any.
Farmers hoping to protect their fields will post a Prohibido Defecar (Don't Shit) sign. I can just hear those farmers screaming inside, “Holy Crap! These pilgrims have done it again.” Respect their wishes, when at all possible.
Farmers hoping to protect their fields will post a Prohibido Defecar (Don't Shit) sign. I can just hear those farmers screaming inside, “Holy Crap! These pilgrims have done it again.” Respect their wishes, when at all possible.
Spaniards, I discovered, have a wry sense of humor when it comes to this bodily function. A Christmas tradition in the Catalan provinces includes a good luck figurine called el caganer, or the pooping man. Because this squatting gentleman is fertilizing the earth, he is said to bring good harvest for the following year and, with it, health and peace of mind. Traditionally, el caganer is a Catalan peasant wearing a red stocking cap and he is often hidden among the Christmas Nativity scene for children to find. (In recent times, the statuettes are of celebrities, athletes, superheroes, historical figures, and royalty—even Barack Obama. You can purchase these pooping icons online.)
The Catalan before-dinner-toast is one that will stick with me forever. Menja bé, caga fort, i no tinguis por a la mort! Eat well, shit a good deal, and don't be afraid of death! And even though a Spanish proverb proclaims "Dung is no saint, but where it falls it works miracles," I imagine that most Spaniards would find the real miracle a clean Camino. The amount of human feces deposited annually verges on the astronomical. Consider this. If 300,000 people crap outdoors just once along the Camino, and if the average plop is a quarter pounder, the result is 37.5 tons of turds each year.
The Spaniards are not alone in the world in not having found a good way to deal with this problem. Some visitors have offered solutions, but until someone takes the lead in solving the caga litter problem, the trail will remain soiled, and pilgrims will continue to do as they have since the Middle-Ages—poop all along the Camino.
The Spaniards are not alone in the world in not having found a good way to deal with this problem. Some visitors have offered solutions, but until someone takes the lead in solving the caga litter problem, the trail will remain soiled, and pilgrims will continue to do as they have since the Middle-Ages—poop all along the Camino.
________________________________________________________
Jane V. Blanchard
Author of Women of the Way: Embracing the Camino, also a public speaker, an accomplished long-distance hiker, and the publisher of an enlightening blog, providing strategies and support for the indie author. She lives in Sarasota, Florida. Jane’s husband, Dennis R. Blanchard (author of Three Hundred Zeros: Lessons of the Heart on the Appalachian Trail) is often her hiking partner.
Visit Jane’s Websites:
Women of the Way
Jane V. Blanchard (“My Musings” for indie authors)
Women of the Way
Jane V. Blanchard (“My Musings” for indie authors)
Note from Kathleen: I so enjoyed reading Jane’s travel blog this year—Woman On Her Way, with its many accompanying photos—as she and Dennis hiked and biked through parts of Europe over the course of six months. If we’re lucky, there will be another book forthcoming!
Letter from Spain:
Caga and the Camino de Santiago
Caga and the Camino de Santiago
by Guest Author: Jane V. Blanchard
November 2013
November 2013
The Camino de Santiago, also known as “The Way of St. James,” is a pilgrimage across northern Spain and one of the world's most famous walking trails. Because legend has it that the remains of St. James, one of the twelve apostles, lie entombed in the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela, the “Way” has drawn European Christians since as early as A.D. 800. Hikers on the Camino, even today, are called “pilgrims.” And nowadays people come from all over the world, trekking not only for religious reasons, but for health, culture, and exercise. The Council of Europe, in 1987, blessed the Camino’s network of ancient pilgrimage routes with the distinction of being first on the European Cultural Itinerary. Every year its popularity increases. In 2011, 244,000 people registered for the Compostela, a Certificate of Completion for the final 100 miles. I was one of them. My Camino, my first-ever long-distance hike, started in the month of September on a section in France, with my heading west over the Pyrenees, and finished five hundred miles and forty-three days later in Santiago de Compostela, near Spain’s Atlantic coast.
Wayfaring on the Camino is different from hiking wilderness. I carried only a light pack (about 20 lbs.) and, in walking from village to village, stopped for drink, food, and bathroom breaks in cafés and eateries, and at night bedded down in albergues (hostels).
Wayfaring on the Camino is different from hiking wilderness. I carried only a light pack (about 20 lbs.) and, in walking from village to village, stopped for drink, food, and bathroom breaks in cafés and eateries, and at night bedded down in albergues (hostels).
Photo by Jane V. Blanchard
Between towns, the route meanders hill-and-dale through picturesque farmland. The rolling terrain in the east produces vineyards and olive orchards, while the west is dotted with diary farms. The middle—a flat, arid, and largely treeless plateau known as the Meseta—boasts irrigated fields of cereal crops and sunflowers. Rimmed by mountains, the Meseta reminded me of a large bowl. Except for the few major cities, the area is sparsely populated. Yet, on the Way, you are never alone.
For many walkers, the distance between towns—and, therefore, toilets—does not coincide with bodily urges. So, how does one handle nature’s calls in a barren land, with people constantly in sight? If lucky, you duck behind a stone wall or high weeds. When a screen is convenient, however, others have already squatted there, as evidenced by the piles, toilet paper residue, and buzzing of flies. You must pick your place with the instincts of a hound looking for the perfect spot, while taking care not to step in someone else’s deposit. When no cover is available, the procedure adopted among trekkers is to leave your backpack on the side of the trail, take your TP, saunter off a way, and do what comes naturally. Don't be shy. “Everyone knows that everyone goes” and fellow pilgrims will not seek you out. If they are anything like me, they’ll pick up the pace to give you privacy. Lastly, plan to poop as fast as possible—the manic flies love to attack warm poo even as it leaves your body. And fluttering wings tickle!
For many walkers, the distance between towns—and, therefore, toilets—does not coincide with bodily urges. So, how does one handle nature’s calls in a barren land, with people constantly in sight? If lucky, you duck behind a stone wall or high weeds. When a screen is convenient, however, others have already squatted there, as evidenced by the piles, toilet paper residue, and buzzing of flies. You must pick your place with the instincts of a hound looking for the perfect spot, while taking care not to step in someone else’s deposit. When no cover is available, the procedure adopted among trekkers is to leave your backpack on the side of the trail, take your TP, saunter off a way, and do what comes naturally. Don't be shy. “Everyone knows that everyone goes” and fellow pilgrims will not seek you out. If they are anything like me, they’ll pick up the pace to give you privacy. Lastly, plan to poop as fast as possible—the manic flies love to attack warm poo even as it leaves your body. And fluttering wings tickle!
When the ground is too hard for digging, as it is for most of the hard-packed Meseta, people will cover their success stories with a pile of rocks—you see a lot of cairns along the Camino. Don’t leave your soiled toilet paper out in the landscape. Take it with you, along with the wet wipes that do not disintegrate, and trash them appropriately in the next waste bin. It’s a good idea to carry your own supply of toilet paper, even for use in the towns. The many mom and pop shops and some of the donativos (low-cost hostels) can only afford to put out one roll per day, and by midafternoon, you can be shit-out-of-luck when it comes to finding any.
Farmers hoping to protect their fields will post a Prohibido Defecar (Don't Shit) sign. I can just hear those farmers screaming inside, “Holy Crap! These pilgrims have done it again.” Respect their wishes, when at all possible.
Farmers hoping to protect their fields will post a Prohibido Defecar (Don't Shit) sign. I can just hear those farmers screaming inside, “Holy Crap! These pilgrims have done it again.” Respect their wishes, when at all possible.
Spaniards, I discovered, have a wry sense of humor when it comes to this bodily function. A Christmas tradition in the Catalan provinces includes a good luck figurine called el caganer, or the pooping man. Because this squatting gentleman is fertilizing the earth, he is said to bring good harvest for the following year and, with it, health and peace of mind. Traditionally, el caganer is a Catalan peasant wearing a red stocking cap and he is often hidden among the Christmas Nativity scene for children to find. (In recent times, the statuettes are of celebrities, athletes, superheroes, historical figures, and royalty—even Barack Obama. You can purchase these pooping icons online.)
The Catalan before-dinner-toast is one that will stick with me forever. Menja bé, caga fort, i no tinguis por a la mort! Eat well, shit a good deal, and don't be afraid of death! And even though a Spanish proverb proclaims "Dung is no saint, but where it falls it works miracles," I imagine that most Spaniards would find the real miracle a clean Camino. The amount of human feces deposited annually verges on the astronomical. Consider this. If 300,000 people crap outdoors just once along the Camino, and if the average plop is a quarter pounder, the result is 37.5 tons of turds each year.
The Spaniards are not alone in the world in not having found a good way to deal with this problem. Some visitors have offered solutions, but until someone takes the lead in solving the caga litter problem, the trail will remain soiled, and pilgrims will continue to do as they have since the Middle-Ages—poop all along the Camino.
The Spaniards are not alone in the world in not having found a good way to deal with this problem. Some visitors have offered solutions, but until someone takes the lead in solving the caga litter problem, the trail will remain soiled, and pilgrims will continue to do as they have since the Middle-Ages—poop all along the Camino.
________________________________________________________
Jane V. Blanchard
Author of Women of the Way: Embracing the Camino, also a public speaker, an accomplished long-distance hiker, and the publisher of an enlightening blog, providing strategies and support for the indie author. She lives in Sarasota, Florida. Jane’s husband, Dennis R. Blanchard (author of Three Hundred Zeros: Lessons of the Heart on the Appalachian Trail) is often her hiking partner.
Visit Jane’s Websites:
Women of the Way
Jane V. Blanchard (“My Musings” for indie
authors)
Women of the Way
Jane V. Blanchard (“My Musings” for indie
authors)
Note from Kathleen: I so enjoyed reading Jane’s travel blog this year—Woman On Her Way, with its many accompanying photos—as she and Dennis hiked and biked through parts of Europe over the course of six months. If we’re lucky, there will be another book forthcoming!
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