Until next we meet

Yesterday I said farewell to Santiago and to most of my fellow pilgrims. Allison, Colbi, and I—who all happened to have the same flight to Madrid—caught a taxi to the airport together.

Going through security, we noted with surprise that the people in front of us were not removing their shoes. Colbi turned to a security guard and asked if we were meant to (the case was a bit different for her, as she had metal buckles on her sandals). He did not seem to understand her question and walked off momentarily; however, he soon returned holding two blue objects in his hands that, initially, appeared to be gloves. We stared, each mildly afraid that he was about to perform a cavity search simply because she had asked a question. We all stopped; we all waited—a cohesive unit. Instead of something so dramatic as an invasive search, he handed the objects to Colbi and walked away. Relieved, I turned back to my own task of loading the plastic bins. When I turned back to the others, Colbi had removed her shoes and placed in their stead the blue—as it turned out—foot covers. As exhausted as she was, she pranced around in them, showing them off like a shoe model.

It took me a few tries to get through security. Having forgotten that a tube of A&D was buried in my backpack, I was repeatedly sent through to remove “crema” — over and over the woman just looked at me and said “crema; crema; CREMA.” Finally, I recovered the tube (wrapped and wedged in clothes) and allowed the guard to throw it away. When I looked up, Colbi and Allison were both patiently waiting on me to join them. It seemed somehow entirely natural that they would be.

We spoke, when we had something to say, but aside from a joke here and there, or an occasional question, we sat in relative silence. But it wasn’t the awkward silence of nothing to say; it was the silence of companionship, which usually comes from years of intimacy. We were simply comfortable not making an effort. It is startling and wonderful how quickly our unit formed; how naturally we all began to look for and out for one another. Sitting in the terminal waiting to depart, it felt, and in ways still feels, as though we were still walking the pilgrimage—as though we had simply gotten ahead of the group and were waiting for everyone to catch up...and I hope they do.