Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Coming 'home' to the Camino

Sometimes, when a person is on the cusp of a life-changing event or decision, it really can be an incredible experience just to take stock and get away.



Breaking free from your normal life and routine, if only for a few days, can give you a whole new perspective on things. It’s been amazing to come across so many old friends in recent weeks who suggested I should go to walk the Camino de Santiago in Spain when they heard I was on the verge of taking voluntary redundancy.

Redundancy, for some, is such an awful, threatening word. It’s one that has become too familiar in the newspaper industry in recent years. For others, it’s a chance of a new beginning, an exciting time when new opportunities present themselves and, ultimately, it’s all about perspective. 
Santiago Cathedral

What seems like a crisis at the time can often teach you the lessons that need to be learned in life – or the crisis can open up new doors.

After months of soul-searching, the time has come for me to make a big change in my own life. And I feel that those months of soul-searching, during what should have been a wonderful sunny summer in Galway, have taught me a lot about my own life and how to deal with it.

I’m one of those people who can tend to worry too much, or not really put my trust in the universe.


Anyway, today I feel like a bit of a cheat, because the opportunity presented itself to visit two wonderful Spanish regions, Cantabria and Galicia, and sample some stretches of the Camino over the past week.

I got to sample some of the wonders of the walking routes, without immersing myself in the main walk (the French Way) which takes some pilgrims five weeks to cover from the French border to the Cathedral in Santiago.

Instead of taking to the pathways, weighed down by a rucksack each morning, a small group of us were whisked from stretch to stretch, our bags neatly stored away in minivans before being driven on to the next hotel.

But it was great to meet like-minded souls and to realise that my future is no longer set in stone. Like many others who have taken to the Camino, there was time for soul-searching, for taking stock, for realising that sometimes good company, spectacular scenery, and a chance to enjoy a long walk are all you need in life.

People tend to open up more, too, when they meet people they might never see again in their lives. Stories were swapped and fears were put in their proper perspective in the company of people who, like me, have travelled all over the world.

When you have your health, there is so much to treasure in life. When you walk in silence for hours on end, or share your worries with a stranger, you sometimes realise that so many of the things you worry about are not really that important, either.

It's incredible the people you meet along the way. People take to the Camino for a variety of reasons, from spiritual to religious, to maybe a simple desire to meet new people or to have a quiet time. Or even just to have a healthy, low budget holiday, based around long walks every day. 




Friends and family members had already described the sense of camaraderie, and the life-long friendships they have made, on the road to Santiago. From the elderly retired Swedish man, walking in memory of his late wife, to the young person who had just lost his job. 

Everyone has a different reason for walking and yet everyone has so much in common along the pilgrim’s way. And I know people who go back there from Galway or London every year.

We met a steady stream of walkers on the way to Santiago, all of them united by a common bond. “Buen camino” the pilgrims would call out to each other, perhaps before sharing a beer or a slice of bread at a pit-stop in a small village on the road to Santiago.

In rural Cantabria, I came across some of the most gorgeous places I’ve ever seen. Off the beaten track, in the little town of Potes, surrounded by mountains and hills, it was easy to imagine just putting the bag down for a week or ten days, relaxing and walking, and soaking in the views.

A group of us took the cable car up to Fuente De, 23kms away, and the man next to me said he had conquered his own fear of heights. A few years ago, he never would have dreamed of being able to take that cable car to a height of 1,078 metres. Seven or eight years ago, he would have sat and waited for us at the bottom.

Each of us has fears to conquer and this man’s pride at simply making a cable car journey inspired me to take stock of my own recent fears.

On the coast, we found beautiful walks devoid of any walkers on sunny September mornings. There are fantastic places to visit in this part of Spain if you don’t want to mingle with thousands of walkers, but many people also enjoy the sense of community on the main pilgrims’ way.

Over 5,000 Irish people officially ‘finished’ the Camino in Santiago last year and it’s easy to see why. This part of Spain is only a short flight away and the camaraderie among the pilgrims seems a million light years away from our normal worries in this era of globalisation, Facebook, Twitter, and mobile phones.

I only got a taste of the Camino last week, and our local guides informed us that there are many other caminos in Galicia for those who want to get away from it all. You could walk all the way from La Coruna, on the northern coast, for days on end and hardly meet a soul.

In the square outside the Cathedral, it was uplifting to see emotional pilgrims reach the end of their long journeys. Perhaps over the previous days or weeks, they had found the answers to their troubles.

Yep, I felt like a bit of a cheat, taking in sections of the Camino de Santiago, before staying in luxury hotels. But I also got a chance to explore some of the most beautiful landscapes in Western Europe, amid a growing realisation that I will return to the Camino some day.

It’s that kind of place, that kind of experience, which helps to put so many of our normal daily worries into their proper perspective.

Dealing with the loss of a job, a partner, the death of a loved one, or a big change is all part of this crazy adventure we call life. And people seemed far more alive, open and honest as they shared their stories with the pilgrims on the medieval route.
The more disconnected we get via 21st century technology, the more people want to reconnect with those around them. Which is probably why the Camino has become as popular in recent years as it was back in the 13th century.

Buen Camino!

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Don't fly the flag



On Friday night last, a young man on his way into a football match in Dublin was arrested, thrown to the ground, and handcuffed.

His offence? Trying to bring a Palestinian flag into a football ground.

Yep, carrying a flag. He had not even entered the ground, to see St Patrick’s Athletic take on Bohemians, when the Garda approached and man-handled him outside the entrance gates.

Video footage taken by his friends at the scene showed that the man had not been drunk, abusive, or resisting arrest. It now seems that flying the flag of an oppressed land, living under colonisation, has become some sort of crime in Ireland in 2014.

Last month, Dundalk FC – a tiny club with limited resources by European standards – were fined €18,000 by UEFA (the sport’s governing body in Europe) because one of their fans dared to fly a Palestinian flag at a football ground.

That punishment seemed all the more shocking when it was confirmed that Atletico Madrid, far richer than Dundalk, were fined €15,000 for racist chanting by their fans back in May.

To UEFA, it seems, flying the flag of a colonised people, living under Apartheid, is now a worse offence than racist chanting.

UEFA had no qualms about supporting racism themselves when they staged the European U-21 championships in Israel last year. They never bothered to ask the Israelis why members of the Palestinian national team are routinely harassed and prevented from travelling to games.

Rightly or wrongly, people in Ireland feel an affinity with Palestinians. Colonised ourselves for hundreds of years, we know what it means to be run out of our homes or denied a State of our own.

During the recent 50 day onslaught against the people of Gaza, more than 2,100 Palestinians were murdered, most of them civilians. Among them were 26 Palestinian sportsmen and sportswomen, according to Amri Hannoun, the Palestinian Football Association's press officer.

During those 50 days, Palestinian flags were prominent at demonstrations throughout Ireland.

The game in Dublin on Friday night was an ordinary, Irish FAI Cup tie between two Dublin clubs. There were, presumably, no UEFA officials in attendance so it was an Irish person, somewhere, who ordered or encouraged the Garda to intervene and arrest the fan.

If it’s illegal to fly a particular flag at a League of Ireland ground now, perhaps us football fans deserve to be told. And told why.

The incident at Richmond Park got me to thinking of what a sick society this former colony has become if, given our own troubled history, someone cannot express solidarity with people living under siege at a football game.

It’s not as though the flag would have incited fans of the opposing side.

And who or what’s next? Will Mayo fans be fined for flying Basque flags? After all, Basque flags are “political” because their independence is not recognised by Spain? Will Cork fans get arrested for flying the Southern Cross flag from the American civil war? Surely they are “political” even if fans of the Rebels choose them as much for their red and white colours as what they represent.

Or is it only people who dare to fly the flag of Palestine who get arrested while walking, peacefully, into Irish sports stadiums? We deserve to be told.

We need to know, because from the video footage I have seen the arrest of this young man was a serious breach of his civil liberties.

As his friends pointed out, he had not been abusive or done anything wrong. His friends told the Ireland Palestine Solidarity Campaign that he’s one of the nicest, quietest guys anyone could imagine and he had not provoked the Gardai in any way.

His bizarre arrest got me to thinking, too, that in less than two years this former colony will put on a major year of celebrations to honour the men who gave up their lives in the fight for Irish freedom back in 1916.

A century on, this “free, independent” Republic – which once supposedly inspired other nations seeking self-determination – has become a gross caricature of itself.

The men wearing the Garda uniforms in Inchicore on Friday night insulted the memory of the generations of Irish people who gave up their lives in the fight for freedom down through the centuries.

Meanwhile, how many of them have ever arrested a corrupt banker or a dodgy developer? It’s far easier to arrest a young football fan than chase after the “real” criminals who brought this country to its knees.

The entire episode is worrying, given the clear implications it has for civil liberties in Ireland if a peaceful, sober football fan is not allowed wave the flag of a people who have been brutalised, occupied and colonised.

It’s yet another small incident from the "Banana Republic” which shows how far modern Ireland has drifted away from the ideals of those who fought to break free from an empire.

The men of 1916 would be disgusted. The Gardai on duty in Inchicore should give a proper explanation – or hang their heads in shame.

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=717131195002341&fref=nf

Friday, September 5, 2014

The Bishop and his bigotry



The main story in my newspaper today concerned comments from the Bishop of Galway, who slated the St Vincent de Paul (SVP) society for giving funds to a new resource centre for the gay community in the city.

He claims that the gay community promotes a culture that is “morally wrong”.

Bishop Martin Drennan’s comments would be laughable if they were not so hurtful, if they did not cause such damage, and if his own church did not have such an appalling history of being morally wrong.

The €45,000 donation came from the Maureen O’Connell Fund, after a late publican bequeathed her city centre bar to the society which later sold it on for €7.8m. O’Connell’s, in Eyre Square, is one Galway’s most popular pubs and her donation was a remarkable gesture of goodwill.

Bishop Drennan wrote to SVP at both local and national levels this week after discovering through the local media that the donation was being made to the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community support group Amach.

The Bishop now wants to know the reasons behind the funding and hinted that it could jeopardise the relationship between the society and the Catholic Church, which regularly holds collections for Saint Vincent de Paul.

Yesterday, Bishop Drennan told Galway Bay FM he took the decision to write the letters because he believed the society’s reputation had been damaged.

“My problem is with the moral judgment involved in making the decision,” he said.

“Gay culture is a different culture. We respect their view. But in our eyes it’s morally wrong behaviour and we cannot put funds at the service of behaviour we don’t believe is morally correct … We cannot be seen to support a culture that promotes that kind of activity.”

That kind of activity? Will somebody tell him that homosexuality was legalised by a Minister for Justice from Galway, Maire Geoghegan Quinn, all of 20 years ago. Like a bolt from the dark ages, Bishop Drennan’s comments show that bigotry is alive and well in the Catholic Church in 2014.

They provide a reminder of another, terrible, dark era when one of his predecessors urged the people of Galway to lash their daughters if they were out late on a Saturday night.

After all the wrong-doing by the Catholic Church which has been exposed in recent years, some of us might claim that Bishop Drennan should examine “morally wrong” behaviour closer to home, specifically within his own organisation.

If anything, his beloved Church went out of its way to block and thwart investigations by the State into clerical sex abuse.

Priests who destroyed the lives of countless victims were allowed to get away with their crimes thanks to the complicity of people in positions of authority like Bishop Drennan.

If the number of Irish children abused by clerical members of the Roman Catholic Church is unthinkable, then so too is the way ordinary priests and bishops turned a blind eye at best, or covered up wrong-doing at worst, for so long.

There are also questions to be answered regarding where the money goes within the Catholic Church - and why adequate compensation has been denied to victims of clerical sex abuse. Why are some religious orders refusing to pay up for appalling crimes committed by their members to this day?

These comments are all the more reprehensible given the increased level of suicide we have seen in the West of Ireland in recent years.

I knew someone who took his own life because he could not come to terms with his own sexuality. Much of his pain was due to the “morality” of the Catholic Church in the Ireland he grew up in, a Church which dominated Irish society for far too long. A Church which told homosexuals that they were deviants, while ignoring criminal predators within its own ranks.

Have people forgotten that it was illegal to engage in homosexual activity until 1994? Thanks mainly to the ethos of the Catholic Church during an era when so many priests were getting away with heinous crimes against Irish children.

I also know someone who cried tears of despair on his wedding weekend a few years ago. His tears related to the abuse inflicted on him by a priest in a Galway secondary school two decades ago.

What should have been the happiest weekend of this man’s life was almost ruined as the memories of childhood helplessness and pain came flooding back to haunt him. I was shocked to see how much pain this pillar of the community had caused.

No wonder that man, now an adult victim of clerical abuse, does not live in Catholic Ireland any more. People like Bishop Drennan made light of his suffering and made it clear he didn’t belong.

The priest who abused that young man, and probably countless others, is still alive today. He lives a comfortable life in a “retreat house” on the other side of Ireland and Bishop Drennan and his counterparts have never asked this man to account for his crimes.

Bigoted comments like those by Bishop Drennan this week are no longer acceptable. Not while the West of Ireland has such a high suicide rate, including I’m sure among young men who have struggled to come to terms with their own sexuality in the type of society dominated by Bishop Drennan and his ilk.

Oh, and it’s precisely because of these kind of comments about “morally wrong” behaviour among consenting adults that the LGBT community need resource centres –places to socialise without fear or discrimination – of their own.

The SVP are a brilliant organisation, helping the poor and marginalised of Irish society. I hope they treat Bishop Drennan’s comments with the contempt they deserve.