Storks and scallop shells

 

Week one has passed in a flash, a whirlwind of classes, conversations, new faces and new experiences. As the school has a strong Catholic ethos, Friday began, like every other day, with a short time of prayer or reflective discussion. My first class was with a Primary 6 group and the theme was respect, tolerance and peace. In the light of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the students were asked to contribute their thoughts; I never imagined hearing such articulate, informed and intelligent views from a bunch of 10 year olds. This segued into a grammar lesson where I taught (or re- taught) the simple future tense and invited the pupils to express their hopes and plans for the future. The last lesson of the week couldn’t have been more different, teaching in an art class of 8 year olds. No need for the talents of Picasso or Dali here; it involved a craft workshop (presented in English) to design a card for Carnaval, so there I was, sat on a miniature chair, knees to elbows, equipped with scissors and coloured felt tips, doing my best to demonstrate exemplary craft credentials to an excited primary 5 class.

This 4 day Carnaval weekend began with a wander around the city, discovering some of its beautiful medieval attractions. What a surprise to find (near the Plaza San Isidoro), atop a Corinthian column, a pair of nesting white storks, noisily clacking beaks and greeting each other in their enormous, messy nest of twigs and branches, renewing their acquaintance, having returned from overwintering in Africa. This bird was to becomes something of a talisman for the weekend (more later).

The city of León lies on an ancient pilgrimage route, the Camino de Santiago (the Way of St. James), which snakes its way across the north of Spain from the Pyrenees to Santiago de Compostela , to the shrine where James’ remains are reputedly buried. His symbol, a scallop shell, waymarks the whole route and the pavements of León, like those of every other town and village along the Camino, are peppered with shells. In Leon, they take the form of brass mouldings embedded into the pavements, burnished smooth by the footsteps of the masses walking over them. Are they supposed to keep pilgrims focused, a difficult task in a city with an abundance of wine bars, offering quality vino blanco, rosado y tinto at very affordable prices… with tapas!

Tracy and I decided to set out on a mini pilgrimage, so took the bus to Astorga and walked about 30 miles over 2 days, into the mountains of León, through semi- deserted, hauntingly beautiful mountain hamlets and villages to the highest point on the Camino at 1505m (the Cruz de Ferro) and down the rock strewn path on the other side to the village of Acebo, boasting “the best hostel” on the whole Camino. I was struck by how quiet it was, the only sound that of the mountain birds singing in the glorious early Spring sunshine.  On the top of nearly every triple arched church belfry were white storks, refurbishing their nests for the new season, an exotic image for a boy from Co. Antrim.