The Pilgrimage

He gave me a cold look.

"I am only teaching you the RAM practices. But you will find your sword only if you discover that the Road and the truth and the life are in your heart."

Petrus pointed to the sky, where the stars were now clearly visible.

"There is no religion that is capable of bringing all of the stars together, because if this were to happen, the universe would become a gigantic, empty space and would lose its reason for existence. Every star--and every person--has their own space and their own special characteristics. There are green stars, yellow stars, blue stars, and white stars, and there are comets, meteors and meteorites, nebulas and rings. What appear from down here to be a huge number of bodies that are similar to each other are really a million different things, spread over a space that is beyond human comprehension."

A rocket from the fireworks burst, and its light obscured the sky for a moment. A shower of brilliant green streamers fell to the ground.

"Earlier, we only heard their noise because of the daylight. Now we can see their light," Petrus said. "That's the only change people can aspire to."

The bride came out of the church, and people shouted and threw their handfuls of rice. She was a thin girl of about sixteen, and she held the arm of a boy in a tuxedo. The congregation appeared and began to move toward the square.

"Look, there's the colonel.... Oh, look at the bride's dress. How beautiful," said some boys near us. The guests took their places at the tables, the waiters served the wine, and the band began to play. The popcorn vendor was surrounded by a mob of screaming boys who made their purchases and then scattered the empty bags on the ground. I imagined that for the townspeople of Logrono, at least that night, the rest of the world--with its threat of nuclear war, unemployment, and murders--did not exist. It was a festival night, the tables had been placed in the square for the people, and everyone felt important.

A television crew came toward us, and Petrus averted his face. But the men passed us by, heading for one of the guests who sat near us. I recognized immediately who he was: Antonio, the man who had led the Spanish fans in their cheers at the World Cup in Mexico in 1986. When the interview was over, I went up to him and told him that I was a Brazilian; feigning anger, he complained about a goal of which Spain had been robbed in the opening round of the Cup.1

But then he gave me a hug, and said that Brazil would soon once again have the best players in the world.

"How do you manage to see the game when your back is always to the field and you are inciting the fans," I asked. It was something I had noticed over and over again during the television transmissions of the World Cup games.

"That's what gives me satisfaction. Helping the fans believe in victory."

And then, as if he too were a guide on the Road to Santiago, he said, "Fans who lack the faith can make a team lose a game it is already winning."

Manolo was then grabbed by others who wanted to interview him, but I stood there thinking about what he had said. Even without ever having walked the Road to Santiago, he knew what it was to fight the good fight.

I found Petrus hiding behind some trees, obviously uncomfortable with the presence of the television cameras. It was only after their lights had been turned off that he emerged from the trees and relaxed a bit. We asked for two more cups of wine, I fixed myself a plate of canapes, and Petrus found a table where we could sit with some of the guests.

The newlyweds cut into a huge wedding cake. People cheered.

"They must really love each other," I said.

"Of course they do," said a dark-suited man sitting with us. "Have you ever heard of anyone marrying for any other reason?"

I kept my answer to myself, remembering what Petrus had said about the popcorn vendor. But my guide didn't let it pass.

"Which kind of love are you talking about: eros, philos, or agape?"

The man looked at him blankly. Petrus got up, filled his cup, and asked me to walk with him.

"There are three Greek words that mean love," he began. "Today, you are seeing a manifestation of eros, the feeling of love that exists between two people."

The bride and groom were smiling for the photographers and accepting congratulations.

"It appears that these two really do love each other," he said, looking at the couple. "And they believe that their love will grow. But shortly, they will be alone with each other, struggling to earn a living, build a house, and share their adventure. This is what ennobles love and dignifies it. He will do his time in the army. She is probably a good cook and will be an excellent housewife, because she has been trained since she was a child for that role. She will be good company for him, they'll have children, and they will feel that they are building something together. They'll be fighting the good fight. So even if they have problems, they will never be really unhappy.

"However, this story that I am telling you could go a very different way. He might begin to feel that he's not free enough to express all of the eros, all of the love that he has for other women. She might begin to feel that she gave up a brilliant career in order to be with her husband. So instead of creating something together, each could begin to feel robbed of a means of expressing love. Eros, the spirit that unites them, would begin to reveal only its negative side. And what God had provided to humans as their noblest sentiment would become a source of hatred and destructiveness."

I looked around me. Eros was present in many of the relationships there. The Water Exercise had awakened the language of my heart, and I was seeing people in a different way. Maybe it was the days of solitude on the road, or maybe it was the RAM practices, but I could feel the presence of good eros and evil eros, just as Petrus had described.

"It's strange," Petrus said, sensing the same thing. "Whether it's good or evil, the face of eros is never the same for any two people. Just like the stars I was talking about half an hour ago. And no one can escape eros. Everyone needs its presence, despite the fact that many times, eros makes us feel apart from the world, trapped in our solitude."

The band began to play a waltz. The guests went to a small cement section in front of the bandstand and started to dance. The alcohol was making itself felt, and people were perspiring more and smiling more. I noticed a girl dressed in blue who looked as if she had waited for this wedding just to have the chance to dance the waltz--she wanted to dance with someone who would embrace her in the way she had dreamed of since adolescence. She was watching a well-dres

sed boy, who wore a white suit and stood among his friends. They were all talking and had not noticed that the waltz had begun. Nor did they see that a few yards away, a girl in a blue dress looked longingly at one of them.

I thought about small towns and marriage to the boy one has dreamed of since childhood.