Azabache Connection

There is this “gemstone” in Galicia that isn’t really a gemstone at all. It’s compressed coal that has stood pressure over time. Since REALLY compressed coal becomes diamonds it is considered both rare and special. It is also believed, here in these parts, to have positive properties for protection and good luck. The catch? You cannnot buy it for yourself; it has to be a gift.

I’ve looked in 105 shop windows, roughly, for a souvineer or special something to commemorate my pilgrimage. I’ve tried on rings of this stone, Azabache, but haven’t bought any because, well, I’m a single mom who doesn’t always pony up money for herself AND the stone is supposed to be a gift.

Okay. Put a mental pin in that. We will come back.

Walking into Santiago Tuesday I saw a boutique that literally made my heart sing. When I tell you it was vibrant, beautiful, sexy, fun, and zany all in one, well, that is an understatement. Mission-driven, I continued to the cathedral only pausing long enough to take a photo, mentally thinking perhaps I’d trek the three miles out from city center to see it again. I kicked myself for days that I didn’t stop. Like I said, I was mission-driven, trying to get to the Pilgrim’s mass at noon and I only had about 4 minutes wiggle room in my walk if I were to make it.

ANYWAY, Today I took a bus to the airport for my “please let me back in America” COVID test. Missing the trail and tired of the city (wait—is this ME talking?!?), I contemplated walking the nine miles back instead of riding the bus again.

I compromised. I got on the overly-crowded bus, starting the ride back to the city where my hotel waited for me to spend my last day, and settled in for the ride. However, after a few stops the trail called and I got off the bus.

Exiting the transport, I paused because the neighborhood looked familiar. On a hunch, I started walking away from the city and YES! The boutique I’d seen Tuesday was just about a kilometer away. My heart rejoiced at getting to at least puruse things of beauty and hoped maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be outrageously expensive and MAYBE I could have clean new non-hiking clothes for my 18-hour trip home.

Peeps, it was everything. It was Spain. It was Italy. It was funky and fun and weird and beautiful. But, beyond that, the shop owner… the shop owner, my friends. She was amazing.

Remember that scene from Pretty Woman where she tries to shop and the store workers treat her like she’s a dirty homeless hooker? Well, just a bit short of that, that’s been a similar experience in SOME places the last few days. (To be fair, not all.) Wearing tired but now-clean hiking clothes, not seeing a single hair product in more than a week, and REALLY needing some attention to my eyebrows, I haven’t exactly projected a “boutique shopper” vibe. I can’t blame them, really. Not actually at all. Times are tough and unkempt frumpy sometimes screams “shoplifter.”

But this lady, she was delightful. She treated me with welcome and openness and kindness. She told me to try on anything I wanted. She told me to take my time and ask if I needed help. She did not hover, look at me with contempt, or follow me step-by-step through her store waiting for me to slip all her inventory into my hiking skirt.

Based on her demeanor, I was mission-set on not only enjoying her small maybe 200 sq ft business, but supporting it.

I found not only a shirt that I LOVE but a dress as well. European, funky, pretty, and different than anything I’ve seen at home, with a bonus as a reasonable price. She helped me look for earrings and didn’t get grumpy when I ended up not buying any. She was lovely.

So, I did the same thing I’d do in the States. I told her.

“Hay muchas gente in las tiendas que no gustan peregrinas,” I told her in my broken Spanish. “Los no qieran nosotros y son no simpatico. Usted esta muy simpatico. Muchas gracias por su tienda y su ayuda. Quando yo Camino martes veo su tienda and quiero a vuelver. Muchas gracias por su ayuda y Vientiane.”

(There are many people in the stores that do not like or want pilgrims. They are not nice. I saw your store the other day when I was finishing my Camino walk and I wanted to return. I liked it much. Thank you for being so kind and welcoming.)

We had a moment. In my limited Spanish and in her limited English, we shared a…something. She thanked me for visiting her business (times are tough) and then…she went to a drawer and brought me this. Blowing me a kiss, as she put it in my bag she said to me, “For good luck.”

A gift. Un regalo. A bracelet of Azagache was added to my order, one human to another, as a gesture of human kindness, connection and goodwill. Something I could not have possibly bought for myself.

So here I sit, most likely with my last café con leche on my journey, basking in the warmth of kindred spirits and shared humanity. Taking time to see, appreciate and understand another, appreciating beauty and kindness…Friends, it is a good, good thing.