Yesterday after writing my last blog post, I turned the internet over to Jess and went outside to the main plot of grass to play ukulele and rest my feet. Jess and I arrived in Santo Domingo del Calzado on his feast day and thus the first day of a five day party. The albergue where we stayed is run by the Cofradia de Santo Domingo. I sat at the table in front of the kitchens of the albergue, and started to strum my ukulele. From the kitchen a man called out to me: Oye, señorita. I looked up, made the "who, me?" gesture. ¨"Si, tu. Ven acqui."
I entered the kitchen and 7 of 8 men were hacking away and butchering 4 pigs (carneros). As I walked in I was asked if I like cheese. The answer is obviously, yes. I was given a triangle of a fresh, silky cheese that is a combination of sheep and cow milk. It is called queso de burgos. I was also offered homemade chorizo and rioja, both red and claret, from a carafe. The men were so happy to see me. They asked me to play a song, so I sang the only Spanish song I know well enough to sing in public: Guantanamera. I sang 3 verses and we all sang the chorus about 5 times. They were very happy with the entertainment.
The back story of the men: Santo Domingo was a monk who established a monastery to minister to pilgrims. He did such an excellent job taking care of peregrinos, that pilgrims would walk further south just to stop at his monastery and albergue. Because so many people came south, the Camino Frances itself shifted south and the path that all pilgrims walk now, was established because of his influence. The tradition is that on his feast day, the kitchen of the albergue makes a pork and garbanzo stew (potaje) to feed pilgrims and the entire town. This is apparently an tradition more than 1000 years old. The men had butchered 4 massive pigs and were soaking fifteen 10 gallon tubs of garbanzo beans.
I had to go get my camera to document this occasion, so I ran upstairs to fetch my camera and Jess. Thus the two peregrinos had an intimate celebration of
Santo Domingo´s feast day!
Jess in a wheat field |
Approaching another deserted Spanish pueblo |
The feet of a bench in the main plaza of Grañado |
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